Strawberry Princess

The view from up on your hotel balcony was pretty nice, though. Up on the fifth floor, your suite overlooked the busy city of Tokyo. You couldn’t see Public Safety HQ, but you knew it was there. You could feel it. Lingering just behind a few skyscrapers.

Behind you, your suitcase was open in the room, sprawled out over a pristine queen mattress draped in pristine white sheets. The sterile kind. Like a hospital bed.

In front of you stood everything you’d worked so hard to forget. The familiar hustle and bustle of Tokyo’s busy streets. The way life never truly seemed to slow down around here. 

The painful memories – the taste of nicotine on another pair of lips that weren’t your own. Amber, something minty, something undeniably familiar.

The memory of how, nearly three years ago, you’d stood on a balcony just like this with someone you wished you could have forgotten. Back before the thought of “what now?” hadn’t yet crossed your mind.

But how could you? How could you forget the taste of him? 

You gasped softly as his fingers wrapped around your neck, not tight, just there, guiding you forward until your lips were close, your mouth parted in anticipation. He held you steady, thumb pressing gently under your jaw. He was still watching you when he brought the cigarette to his lips one last time, pulling in slow, deliberate.

And then he tilted his head – and exhaled the smoke right into your mouth.

You inhaled on instinct, eyes fluttering shut, breath catching around the heat of it. Your hips jerked just slightly, the smallest involuntary roll, and your walls clenched hard around him.

Aki moaned.

Not loud – more a deep sound from his chest, half a growl, like it was dragged out of him against his will. His grip tightened on your throat, just a little, and he leaned in closer.

“Fuck,” he muttered, lips brushing the corner of your mouth. “I can feel that. You like that, don’t you?”

Your fingers trembled ever-so-slightly as you held the smoldering cigarette up to your lips and pulled in a much needed hit. You exhaled slowly, watching the puff of smoke escape your mouth and dissipate into the air.

Tokyo. The city where any old nobody could be somebody.

I’m over it.

Your whirlwind romance with Captain Hayakawa had been… a source of controversy for the past two and a half years. Half of the time, you hated his fucking guts.

The other half…

Your breath hitched, trembling as you pressed your forehead to his neck. The words tumbled out before your mind could stop them, raw and urgent, carried on the heat of the moment.

“I love you,” you gasped, voice breaking.

His breath hitched too, a sharp intake just as his body tensed beneath you. His fingers clenched at your back, and you felt the pulse of him deep inside of you as he finally came, sending shockwaves up your spine. He finished with the prettiest, most velvety moan you’d ever heard, eyes and head rolling back while he reached his peak, spilling heat into your guts.

There were two things about Aki Hayakawa that you could not deny. For one, he was the most stuck-up, self-sabotaging asshole you’d ever met. On the other hand, he was also – unfortunately – the best fuck you’d ever had in your life.

“Oh God– Don’t stop–”

“I won’t, pretty baby,” he murmured, and his hand snaked between your bodies again – thumb finding your clit, rubbing slow, tight circles as he picked up his rhythm. Just slightly. Just enough. “I promise.”

He was such a dick. Fuck, you couldn’t stand him.

Aki shifted his weight, the familiar scrape of his boots on the pavement. “You think you’d know what to do with the time if you had it?”

You thought about that. The idea of slowing down – of taking the moments apart and breathing into them instead of rushing through. “I dunno,” you said. “Maybe I’d just spend it standing right here.”

He looked surprised, then his smile deepened, warming the space between you.

“Right here?” he asked, voice teasing.

You nodded, leaning back against him again, the warmth seeping into your bones. “Yeah. With you.”

His arm tightened again, fingers brushing your side, and you felt that pull inside – something fierce and quiet all at once. You pressed closer, letting the tension in your chest ease into something softer, something steady.

“Careful,” He teased. “You just might make me grow soft on you.”

Two and a half years. It took you two and a half years to rebuild your life after leaving Public Safety behind. After leaving him behind. Picking up the pieces certainly hadn’t been an easy task, either. Hell, you still weren’t sure you were all the way there.

And you’d loved him. God, you had loved him. It all happened so quickly – so unlike anything you had ever experienced that you couldn’t help but want more.

You were going to graduate soon. You were seeing a man who treated you pleasantly enough, and fucked you… good, you supposed. You had no student loans. You were so close to achieving everything you wished for.

But, still, nothing filled the void. Not straight A’s. Not drinking. Not your new nursing school friends. No one.

For the past two and a half years of your life, you had been a zombie – an empty husk, a shell of the woman you used to be before joining Public Safety.

No, before you stuck your nose where it didn’t belong.

There was a nasty, swirling void deep inside of you that never truly seemed to go away. A black hole – an incomprehensibly heavy mass that seemed to suck all of the contentment out of your life. You could lie, convince yourself you were complete, but you weren’t sure you could believe it.

And tomorrow morning, at 9 o’clock, you would have to walk into that wake and face the man who had turned your world on its head. The one person you swore that you would never speak to again. Promised yourself through teary eyes and gritted teeth.

Somewhere deep down, you knew Himeno would have wanted you to make peace with him. You figured you could tolerate his presence, if only for two days. He was mature – you would give him that. In the workplace, there was very little that broke Aki Hayakwa’s exterior.

In other words, you were pretty certain that he had no intention of stirring the pot.

Himeno would want this, you reminded yourself. I can be civil.

Even if it pained you to even think about it.

By the time 9 o’clock rolled around the following morning, you felt anything but prepared. You faced a confusing whirlwind of emotions. Anxiety at the concept of stepping into the world you’d so abruptly left years ago. Grief at the thought of seeing someone you had considered at one point to be your best friend on a picture frame instead of next to you, her loud laugh filling the room while she asked you where you’d been.

In the back of the cab, you put the final touches on your mascara, gazing down at your reflection in your makeup compact. You sighed, adjusting the waistband of your black skirt, making sure the matching blouse was tucked in properly. 

You didn’t feel strong enough to go inside yet. But the car slowed, tires coming to halt against gravel, and the memorial home stood just outside of your window.

Part of you regretted showing up. Part of you – the more sensible half, perhaps – knew that if you turned back now, you would regret it for the rest of your life.

You took a deep breath. A slow, trembling, deep breath. Cold air entered your lungs, exited through your nose. The breath pattern of a smoker. Even now, your fingers itched for a cigarette, but you left your lighter at the hotel in a last-ditch attempt to quit. You regretted it now.

Of course, you were too much of an addict to leave the pack home. You know, just in case.

You have two days. Suck it up for her. You thought.

“This it, miss?” The cab driver asked, craning his neck around to look at you.

“Yeah, sorry,” You nodded quickly, reaching into your pocketbook for a few bills. Your fare blinked back at you from the center console. You counted out the change you had and placed it in his hand. “Thank you.”

You shifted over towards the door, popping the handle open and swinging your feet out.

“Take it easy,” He called out.

You bowed your head ever-so-slightly, closing the door behind you.

And then, as the cab pulled away, it finally hit you. Himeno was dead. You deprived your own self of the right to say goodbye. And now, years down the road, you had to look your old life in the face and confront the feelings you’d been running away from.

Your feet felt like bricks, heavy, iron weights strapped to your ankles. Still, the building wasn’t getting any closer, so you made your way up the gravel driveway anyway – heart beating fast enough to make your palms sweat.

One foot in front of the other, just like you’d rehearsed.

You kept your eyes trained on the ground right up until the moment you met the steps. Then, craning your gaze up, you looked into the open doors.

A mid-sized, open room stood before you. It was modest, sort of like a chapel that was lined with cushioned wooden chairs instead of pews. Then, in the middle of the room – where the priest would be – you could see it. 

A golden arch. An altar dressed in flowers – pretty shades of purple, white, blue. Candles. Some gifts. In the center of it all sat a picture of your old friend. She looked the same way you remembered – short, choppy hair, eyepatch covering one side, grin wide on her face.

And, just like that, you felt your resolve wither. The sheer, crushing weight of grief swallowed you whole. She was dead. Really dead, and the thought of never being able to see her again – never being able to apologize to her – was enough to make you sway on your feet.

You felt nauseous. Your eyes burned, watered, threatened to spill tears over fresh makeup before you even found the strength to cross the threshold.

Oh, God, you thought, bringing your fingers up to your lips to gnaw on your nails – a subconscious habit you’d picked up when you started smoking, an oral fixation – She’s gone.

The last real friend you had was gone, and now you had to step into a room full of your old peers and pretend you weren’t about to fall apart – scraps held together by thread.

But then, just as the room began to spin, a hand on your shoulder caught your attention. You jerked your head up, swallowing the sob that was just about to wrench itself out of your chest. Five perfectly manicured fingers rested atop the sleeve of your blouse. Five perfectly manicured fingers that matched a set of terrifyingly blank eyes.

“You came. I’m happy to see you,” Makima greeted you – admittedly pleasant, but devoid of all emotion. She did seem genuinely pleased to find you there. But… you couldn’t really tell with her. She ushered you further into the room. “How have you been? Is nursing school treating you well?”

How does she know I’m in nursing school?

You swallowed, “I’ve been well. Nursing school has been… busy. Challenging. But I’m surviving.”

Her gaze lingered on you a second too long. Assessing. Approving.

“I’m glad,” she said. “You’ve always been diligent.”

The compliment landed gently, but it felt heavier than it should have. You nodded, unsure whether to smile.

Makima shifted slightly, gesturing somewhere behind her. “You should come sit next to us.”

Us.

Your eyes flicked past her shoulder.

A few familiar faces leaned against the wall nearby – Public Safety suits, hands tucked into pockets, murmuring quietly among themselves. You recognized them in fragments: a profile, a laugh, a few voices you remembered. Time had reshaped them in tiny ways, but not enough to make them strangers.

“Where were you guys sitting?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual.

She pointed towards the right side of the room.

And that was when you made the mistake. You looked across the room.

You shouldn’t have.

Because there, all the way across the room – separated by a sea of people you used to know – you saw him. Half turned while he listened to Kishibe speak. The overhead light caught his dark hair, which he’d opted to leave down. It was longer now – reaching just past his collar, shoulders broader than you remembered. 

He looked older. He was older – the shadows beneath his eyes were carved a little deeper than you remembered. Time hadn’t stolen anything from him. Sharpened him, if anything. Refined the pretty lines of his face into something a little manlier. Exhaustion and melancholy were etched into his features, but you would have been able to recognize him half-blind. 

The air was knocked out of your lungs in one clean exhale. Aki Hayakawa was sitting right in front of you.

A little older, a little more defined, but still undeniably, painfully beautiful.

He looked the same to you. Exactly the same.

Your heart lurched before you could fucking stop it.

As if he could sense you, he glanced up. And for one terrifying, tense second, the noise of the room dulled into nothing. For the first time in years, his cobalt gaze met yours.

There was a flicker of unmistakable recognition, like his heart had dropped through the floor the very same way yourshad. A bit of shock – enough to soften his stony expression, eyes widening like he hadn’t expected you to show up. 

And, just like that, you were a few years younger – starry-eyed and irrevocably in love with him.

You could feel Makima watching you. “Well?” She prompted gently. “Would you care to join us?”

It took a great deal of effort to tear your eyes away from him, pulse thrumming like a wild, caged animal in your throat. You wondered if he heard your heart giving you away from the other side of the room.

“I’m sorry… I…” You swallowed. “I need a cigarette.”

Makima tilted her head to the right, as if some part of her had anticipated that answer. “Of course,” She uttered, smiling in a way that was both friendly and deeply unsettling.

You didn’t look at Aki again.

You turned towards the exit almost as quickly as you had come, prying your eyes away from a room full of memories you hadn’t properly buried.

You needed a minute. Just a minute.

Unfortunately, you were intercepted, running straight into the second worst person you could have bumped into.

“Holy shit,” Denji yelped, catching you by the arms before you could collide with him at full force. “You good?’

The impact jolted through you. For a split second you could only blink at him, heart still sprinting ahead of your thoughts.

Denji stared back.

There was a pause.

A very obvious pause.

His brows knit together. His mouth stayed slightly open. You could practically see the gears grinding behind his eyes.

“…Wait.”

His grip loosened a bit as he leaned back to get a better look at you.

“…Oh, shit.” The recognition slammed down on him all at once, “No fuckin’ way! How the hell have you been?”

You let out a shaky breath that almost turned into a laugh despite yourself. “Hi, Denji.”

“Dude,” he said, still holding your arms like you might vanish if he let go. “You’re alive?”

“Last I checked,” You breathed out, unable to pretend that you weren’t humored by him. “Did someone tell you I wasn’t?”

He squinted at you like he didn’t fully trust that answer. “You disappeared.”

There wasn’t any accusation in it.

Before you could respond, Power stepped into view, eyes sharp and unimpressed until they landed on you.

She froze. Her expression shifted instantly.

“You.” She declared. “Where have you been? You abandoned us.”

God, they’re just as dramatic as I remembered them being. You peered over your shoulder. Makima was a few feet away, chatting it up with someone you only vaguely remembered. Across the room, Kishibe was fishing a flask out of his coat. Aki was nowhere to be found.

You huffed out a soft, disbelieving laugh. “I didn’t abandon anyone.”

Denji finally dropped his hands, “You kinda did.”

The room suddenly felt smaller. Brighter.

You rubbed at the back of your neck. “I just… needed to go back to nursing school,” you said, keeping it simple. “That’s all.”

Denji blinked.

“Nursing school,” he repeated slowly, like he was testing the shape of it. “Right.”

“Yup,” You smiled. This was going great.

He made a face. “So you quit devil hunting to study?”

“It’s not just studying.”

“Sounds like studying.”

Power scoffed. “Does this schooling involve battle?”

“No,” You sighed.

“Then it is foolish.” She resolved, crossing her arms over her chest.

You almost smiled. Almost.

Denji tilted his head, studying you again, this time more carefully. As if he were trying to line up the person in front of him with the one he remembered.

Then something clicked.

His eyes sharpened.

“Oh, right,” he said.

Your stomach tightened instinctively.

“What?” you asked, trying to keep your voice level.

He glanced toward the main room behind you, then back at your face.

“Does Hardass know you’re here?”

Your breath caught.

“God, I hate you,” You sniffed, wiping your tears. “I wish I never fucking met you.”

You coughed lightly, hoping it passed as nothing. “Hardass..?” you echoed, buying yourself a bit of time.

Denji stared at you flatly, completely oblivious to your plight. “Don’t play dumb.”

Heat crept up your neck.

You didn’t know what Aki had said about you. If he’d said anything at all. You didn’t know if your name still meant something in that apartment, or if it was just a closed chapter everyone else had moved on from.

You didn’t even know why you had decided to come.

You shrugged, forcing casual into your shoulders. “I’m not sure he knows I’m here,” you lied. “I’m still making my rounds.”

Denji’s eyebrows lifted.

“Making your rounds,” he repeated slowly.

Power leaned closer, eyes narrowing. “You are fleeing.”

“I’m not fleeing.” You waved them off. You definitely were, though.

“You are absolutely fleeing,” Denji said.

You exhaled through your nose, pulse starting to climb again. “I just needed some air.”

Denji looked unconvinced.

You cleared your throat anyway, straightening abruptly. “Excuse me,” you said, already stepping back. “I’m gonna step outside for a sec.”

Then, you were weaving between the two of them, muttering a quiet “excuse me” under your breath as you passed. You walked through the entrance and stepped out onto the patio, eyes on your feet.

You inhaled deeply, once, twice, letting the chill scrape down into your lungs.

Your fingers moved without you telling them to. You opened your purse and fumbled through it, your wallet, keys, lipstick, a folded receipt. You found your cigarettes and slid one between your lips, the paper brushing against your mouth. You needed it.

Your hands were shaking. They trembled enough that you had to pause, pressing them together, trying to force stillness into them through sheer will.

You searched your purse again.

Nothing.

You dug deeper, pushing everything aside more roughly now, heart thudding harder with every second you came up empty.

You didn’t bring a lighter.

Fuck. I forgot I left it. Damn you and your sudden whims.

“God, shit–” The word slipped out under your breath, tight and frustrated. You dragged a hand over your face, cigarette still unlit between your lips, the absurdity of it almost enough to make you laugh if you weren’t so wound tight.

You were still rummaging, more frantic now, like one might magically appear if you searched hard enough, when a voice drifted across the patio.

“Need a light?”

It wasn’t loud. It didn’t have to be. The deep baritone cut through the cold air, and you froze. In the blink of an eye, every single muscle in your body went rigid. A chill crawled its way up your spine.

You knew that voice. You would have known it in a crowded room. In the dark. Half-asleep. And, at a point in time, you had.

You lifted your head.

On the right side of the balcony, just past the walkway, Aki stood leaning against the railing like he had been there all along. Like this wasn't a coincidence at all. The patio lights traced the sharp edges of him, caught in his hair, slid over the slope of his cheekbones, cast the rest of him into shadow. One hand rested in his coat pocket. The other held a lighter, balanced loosely between his fingers, thumb poised against the wheel.

And his eyes, just as blue as you remembered, gazed upon you with the weight of everything the two of you had left unsaid. Your heart betrayed you once more, kicking up a few notches at the mere sight of him like it wanted to burst out of your chest.

Devastatingly handsome. Even now. The years apart had served him well.

Fuck. You thought. As if this day couldn’t get any worse.

Himeno. Do it for Himeno.

Is it still appropriate to call him by his first name? The two of you were far past honorifics. He lost that privilege the moment the two of you decided to get involved with one another. Still, it was hard to forget the taste of his name on your lips. Two syllables. Aki.

“Aki–” You gasped out, clawing at his shoulder blades while your back arched. “Oh– fuck! Fuck, just like that!”

“I got you,” He gasped back into your mouth. “I got you – you gonna cum for me?”

You cleared your throat, voice trembling a whole lot harder than you were proud of. 

“I didn’t see you standing there, Captain,” You called him because it felt easier. “I’ll take a light, though.”

Then you crossed the gap between your body and his – crossing over from one side of the porch to the other. You had forgotten how tall he was. The moment you stepped in front of him – a whole lot closer than you reasonably should have been getting – you were reminded of the size difference. 

You had to look up to meet his eyes. He looked down to meet yours. An apparition dressed in all black, a grim reaper. Then, with an electrical current that frightened you, he held his lighter up to your lips and flicked the wheel until the flame took to the end of your cigarette.

The end crackled, burned like the embers of a fire. You took a deep breath because somehow, the smell of smoldering tar and nicotine was easier to digest than the familiar smell of him – mint, clean clothes, cologne, and the faintest hint of smoke.

“That’s a nasty habit to pick up,” He noted quietly, withdrawing his hand and stuffing the lighter back into his pocket like years hadn’t passed the two of you by. 

You breathed the smoke out, turning your head towards the woodsy scenery. “I picked up a lot of bad habits from you.”

That got a smile out of him.

Not the easy, boyish one he used to wear when he was teasing you. This one was smaller. Worn down at the edges. Like it had been used too many times.

He leaned back against the porch railing, arms folding loosely over his chest. The movement made his shoulders look broader, heavier somehow. Like the years had settled on him quite nicely.

“So,” he said after a beat, “How’ve you been?”

Horrible, thanks for asking.

You let out a quiet huff of smoke before answering. The ember glowed between your fingers.

“I’ve been… okay.” You swallowed. “Busy. Moved twice. New job. It’s stable. Predictable.” You glanced at him. “I’m good.”

You weren’t sure why you needed him to believe that.

His eyes softened at the edges. That almost hurt more than anything else.

“I’m glad,” he said. And he meant it. You could tell. There was no bitterness in it. No resentment. 

The wind shifted, carrying the scent of pine through the air between you. It stirred a loose strand of your hair across your cheek. He noticed. Of course he did. His gaze tracked the movement like it used to, attentive without meaning to be.

His presence was suffocating.

You took another drag to steady yourself.

“And you?” you asked. “How’ve you been, Captain?”

There it was again – that faint twitch of a smile at the title. 

He hesitated.

“I’ve been working,” he said first. “Keeping busy.”

You hadn’t meant to stand so close to him.

“She hated stuff like this,” he muttered, eyes still forward. “Said if she went out, she didn’t want people making speeches or crying over her.”

Your chest tightened.

“How did it…?” You stopped yourself. You weren’t sure you had the right to ask. 

But he answered anyway.

“Mission went sideways.” His voice was even. Too even. “She traded her life for mine.”

The words settled between you like damp soil.

He didn’t want to talk about it. About what happened between the two of you. That was fine. You didn’t want to either. It was easier this way, standing a careful distance apart in black clothes, speaking like colleagues, like acquaintances. Pretending there hadn’t been a time when your entire life bent toward him. When he knew your body like it was his own. When loving him felt like the only thing you were certain of.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you said quietly.

The phrase felt inadequate, but it was all you were allowed to give.

His eyes flicked to you briefly. “Thanks.”

Another pause.

“You get used to losing partners in this job,” he said, gaze drifting back to the grass. “You tell yourself you’re prepared for it.”

Your stomach tightened.

“You’re not,” he added. 

There was something almost mechanical about the way he said it. Like he’d already filed it away in the back of his brain like the robot he was. Grief in his line of work was an error that could cost you a life.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, softer this time. 

His jaw tensed. He nodded once.

Your phone vibrated in your coat pocket.

You hesitated before pulling it out, stepping slightly aside out of reflex. The name on the screen made your chest twist.

Kiyoshi <3

You answered.

“Hey,” you said quietly, turning your back slightly to shield the conversation from the wind – or from Aki, you weren’t sure.

“Are you okay?” Your roommate-who-wasn’t-quite-your-boyfriend’s voice was warm, immediate. Concerned. “I know you said it was a funeral. I just wanted to check in.”

Your throat tightened.

“I’m fine,” you murmured.

“You don’t have to stay long,” he said gently. “If it’s too much, just leave.”

You glanced over your shoulder without meaning to.

Aki stood where you’d left him. Hands in his coat pockets. Expression unreadable. Not watching you directly, but not looking away either.

“I’m okay,” you said. “Really.”

“Call me when you’re done?”

A pause. Next to you, you heard the telltale flick of a lighter, smelled the burning paper as Aki lit up a cigarette of his own.

“Yeah,” you answered. “I will.”

“Okay. I’ll be around.”

You swallowed. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

You hung up.

For a second, you just stared at the darkened screen. Your reflection looked back at you. When you looked up, Aki was watching you, cigarette pinched between his fingers.

“That your boyfriend?” he asked.

The question was neutral. Too neutral.

“Something like that,” you replied.

Something unreadable flickered across his face.

“Something like that…?” He quirked a brow. “That’s unlike you.”

You blinked. “What is?”

“Half-committing.”

The words landed sharper than they needed to.

You let out a small, incredulous breath. “You don’t get to analyze my dating habits.”

“I guess I don’t.” He sighed. Not sadly, but like he knew exactly what you were referring to.

The air between you thickened again. You pulled the burning cigarette back up to your lips and inhaled – deep and slow. The smoke burned your throat on the way down, settled in your lungs like water. It gave you something else to focus on, holding the smoke in for a bit. The burn felt nice.

Aki shifted his weight onto his other foot beside you. Took a hit of his own cig.

“I tried to call you when she died,” he said almost absently, like it wasn’t meant to slip out, “Thought you should’ve known. Went to voicemail, though.”

He was blocked, of course, but he didn’t have to know that.

You tapped the end of your cigarette, flicking ash toward the gravel path. “I must have missed your call.”

It was bullshit. A half-baked lie. He knew that. You knew that, too.

He nodded once, absorbing it. No accusation. No visible hurt. If it registered at all, he buried it the same way he buried everything else.

Fucking asshole.

“Right,” he said.

Another pause. Longer this time.

Aki took a long, measured puff before breathing it out. “Do you remember that izakaya? The one by HQ?”

You looked over at him, cigarette paused halfway to your lips. Being around him was enough to have your heart racing – you told yourself it was from anger, but you weren’t all too sure you believed it.

How could you forget that izakaya? The one where you’d drunkenly kissed him in front of all of your coworkers? The one where he had followed you into the bathroom and warned you not to get involved with a man like him – pleaded with you to make the responsible decision to leave?

“Yeah,” You answered. “Why?”

“It was her favorite place to get a drink,” He hummed quietly, staring off somewhere in the distance. The treeline, perhaps, or maybe he was just trying to avoid your gaze. “I wanted to stop by for a drink in her honor after the service. You’re welcome to come with, if you want.”

And then, like it was an afterthought, “Might be nice to catch up.”

Catch up. Like you’d run into each other at a grocery store. Like the last time you saw him, you hadn’t left with your heart in your throat and his silence ringing in your ears.

I’m not doing this again. I have a new life now.

“I’m not sure we should,” you replied carefully.

He finally looked at you, and you desperately wished he hadn’t.

You let out a breath through your nose, trying to keep your voice steady. “Look, I didn’t come back here to stir up old feelings.”

Aki held the end of his cigarette up to his mouth, wrapping his lips around it and pulling another measured hit from the cancer stick. When he breathed out, he sighed.

“Neither did I. I know the two of you were close, that’s all,” He corrected you and, god, you forgot how blunt he could be. “She would rip my head off if she knew I saw you at her wake and didn’t try to buy you a drink in her honor.”

Oh. Of course. Of course that’s what this was.

Not unfinished business. Not some reckless attempt to reopen something you’d buried. Courtesy.

You stared at the cigarette between your fingers, realizing it had burned down further than you’d noticed. The ember trembled in the wind.

Heat crawled up your neck, not from anger this time, but from embarrassment. From the quiet, humiliating realization that maybe you were the only one still treating this like it was fucking fragile.

Three years ago, you would’ve taken that invitation and turned it into something more than it was. Now he was just… being decent. Including you only because she would have wanted him to.

And suddenly, you remembered that you had been the one to walk away.

Of course he moved on.

You did too. 

Didn’t you?

Before you could even find an answer to that question, he spoke again.

“I understand why you left Public Safety. I never resented you for it. In fact, in your shoes, I would have done the same. That’s not what this is about,” He spoke firmly – nothing like the man you’d once loved, but everything like the cold-cut captain who used to drive you insane. “I just want to make things right for her. Come if you want.”

Come if you want. Like nothing had ever happened between you.

You supposed you had asked for the humbling.

You really shouldn’t.

Going meant reopening something. Not going meant wondering.

“Is anyone else going?” you asked, keeping your eyes forward so you wouldn’t have to measure his expression.

“No,” he said easily. “I planned on going alone. Didn’t know you’d be here.”

Of course he hadn’t known you’d be there. You had blocked him. You had made sure there was no way for him to reach you. You had built that wall brick by fucking brick.

You inhaled again, slower this time. The smoke scraped your throat on the way down.

“She would want me to say yes,” you said pensively, almost under your breath.

You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Aki looked over at you.

“What time were you thinking of going?” you asked, finally turning your head.

“Sometime after seven,” he replied. “Wasn’t sure I’d feel up to going after… all of that in there.” His gaze drifted briefly toward the treeline. “So I didn’t really have a time in mind.”

Seven gave you time to make up your mind.

“I could probably swing that,” you said carefully. 

Could.

“I’m staying at the Parkside Hotel. It isn’t far from HQ. I could walk there.” You didn’t know why you added that.

Maybe to make it clear you didn’t need him. Maybe to remind yourself.

He nodded. “Does 7:30 work?”

It was such an ordinary question. Shame it felt anything but coming from him.

“It could,” you answered.

You had moved on.

Aki studied you for a moment longer than necessary. He didn’t comment on the pause. “I should go back inside,” he said after a beat. His voice back into something much more formal, and he flicked his cigarette over the railing. “I haven’t worked up the guts to go up there yet.”

You hadn’t either, but that was all besides the point.

“My number hasn’t changed,” he added. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but… I’ll be there.”

I’ll be there.

“I’ll think about it,” you said quickly, then softened it. “But… okay.”

He gave a small nod. For a second, it felt like he might say something else. He didn’t.

He turned instead, walking back toward the cluster of mourners near the entrance. Black suit. Straight spine. Hands in his pockets. And, somehow, your heart lurched as if it wanted to follow him.

You exhaled slowly, only then realizing you had been holding your breath. You crushed the cigarette beneath your heel, grinding it into the porch harder than necessary.

Fuck.

You had spent the latter half of your evening pacing anxiously around the hotel room. You really, really did not want to go. It had been hard enough to face him at the wake. Sitting for a drink with him would prove to be a test of how much you truly had healed.

But, fuck, the thought of turning him down made your gut twist. Half of it was your hesitance to dishonor what would so obviously have been Himeno’s will. The other half… well, in all honesty, it wanted to go for drinks with him.

You told yourself it was just because you wanted to catch up. That the way your heart raced as you touched up your makeup had nothing to do with him and everything to do with the fact that you needed another cigarette. 

Somehow, you worked up the courage to take the elevator down to the lobby. Then, you were stepping out into the chill evening air, city wind blowing against your skirt, your blouse, the hair you’d carefully redone because a part of you wanted him to look. See what he’d given up.

And, before you knew it, your freshly shaven legs had carried you all the way up the block. Then the next. Then right up to the door of that little old izakaya you’d known so well just a few years ago. It smelled the same from the outside – like spilled beer, cigarette ash, and city air. The light glowed warmly through the windows.

Your heart felt like it was about to beat right out of your chest. You felt anxious for some reason you couldn’t quite place – your stomach turned at the mere thought of opening that door and seeing Aki sitting there waiting for you. 

You had half a mind to turn away. To run back to the hotel as fast as you could.

Instead, you reached for the handle of the door, opening it and stepping into the warm interior of Himeno’s favorite izakaya. It felt familiar – like the faintest whisper of a night long since past, when you were a few years younger, Himeno leaning off of your arm. Aki, sitting across the table. 

You shook the vision away. There were quite a few patrons seated in the dining area (if you could even call it that). The clock behind the counter read 7:25 exactly. 

Your eyes moved carefully across the room.

A couple sharing skewers in the corner. Three office workers hunched over beers, ties already loosened. An older man nursing sake at the bar. Two empty tables near the back.

But not him.

Your heart stuttered. You scanned again, slower this time, as if he might materialize if you just looked hard enough. You checked the bar stools one by one. The far wall. The shadowed corner near the restroom.

Nothing.

You were early. That was all. Still, a quiet, creeping doubt began to rise in your chest. Maybe he’d changed his mind.

Maybe after leaving the funeral home, he’d decided this was a mistake. Maybe he’d realized sitting across from you would dredge up things that were better left buried.

You wouldn’t blame him. You had been the one to block him, after all..

You had been the one to leave without giving him much room to argue.

Heat spread slowly up your neck, settling uncomfortably in your cheeks. You suddenly felt hyper-aware of yourself – of the way you’d redone your hair, of the careful touch of lipstick you’d applied before leaving the hotel, of the way your skirt fell just so against your legs.

You’d told yourself it wasn’t for him. But standing there now, alone near the entrance of an izakaya you hadn’t entered in years, you felt foolish.

Of course he backed out. Why wouldn’t he?

Your stomach twisted. Turned. Your lunch threatened to come back up. I could still leave.

If you slipped out now, before he saw you, you could preserve whatever pride you had left. You could tell yourself you’d tried. That it simply hadn’t worked out. That way, it would have been Aki’s fault. That way–

“I’m surprised you came.”

You froze. 

You felt him before you allowed yourself to turn. Felt the weight of him standing there. You turned.

He wasn’t in uniform. No Public Safety coat. No tie pulled tight at the collar. Instead, he wore black – because of coursehe did. A fitted turtleneck that clung just enough to outline the breadth of his shoulders, wide-legged black slacks, a long black cashmere coat that made him look taller, somehow. His hair wasn’t tied back. It fell loosely around his face, softer than you remembered, grazing his cheekbones.

He was a man. If he hadn’t been one before, then he definitely was one now.

And then you caught the scent of his cologne for the first time in years, and it was enough to make your eyes flutter shut for the briefest of moments. It was warm, woodsy, something clean, and suddenly you were two and a half years younger, half-asleep against his bare chest.

“Stay with me tonight? Don’t leave.” The memory burned at the back of your mind.

Your mouth parted, but nothing came out. You were at a loss for words.

His gaze moved over you then, taking in the long skirt that fluttered faintly from the draft of the door, the blouse you had smoothed three times in the hotel mirror, the way your hands hovered uncertainly at your sides.

You wondered if he noticed that you’d redone your hair.

Behind you, the hostess cleared her throat gently, glancing between the two of you with polite confusion.

“For two?” she asked.

Aki cleared his throat, “Yes, sorry.”

The hostess gestured for you to follow her, and you did, though your legs felt strangely unsteady beneath you. Aki was a steady presence behind you. You knew better than to turn around. Given your track record, you would fold.

Or not. You know, because you were over him, or whatever.

Right.

You were led toward the back, where the seating dipped to the floor. A low wooden booth tucked against the wall. Familiar. Painfully so

The hostess set two menus down neatly on the table.

“Thank you,” you said with a polite, practiced smile, dipping your head slightly as you took your seat. The cushion gave beneath you. The table felt smaller than you remembered.

She disappeared, leaving the two of you alone.

Just you and him.

And suddenly, without the buffer of movement or strangers or instructions, you had no idea what the fuck to do with your hands. For a moment, neither of you looked at each other.

You reached for the drink menu simply to have something to focus on. The paper felt smooth beneath your fingers. You cleared your throat softly.

Don’t stare at him.

Across from you, Aki slipped out of his coat, folding it over the seat next to him. He rolled the sleeves of his turtleneck up to his elbows, and you would have been lying if you said your eyes didn’t betray you – darting over the top of the menu to catch the way the muscles rippled beneath his ivory skin.

Someone’s been working out.

You weren’t even really reading the menu. Sake, soju, a few other things that sounded kind of appetizing.

“She loved the Asahi Black,” you said quietly, almost to yourself.

The words slipped out before you could overthink them. The silence that followed was enough to make you wish you hadn’t spoken them.

“She did. I was thinking of pouring one down for her, but…” Aki answered anyway, like the memory was bittersweet enough to make him mull his words over. “I need something stronger.”

You couldn’t possibly have agreed more.

“We don’t have to stop at one,” You noted. “Lord knows Himeno didn’t.”

Aki looked up from his own menu, then. The light from the paper lantern that hung between the two of you caught the faintest sliver of surprise in his eye – a sliver of gold in a sea of deep blue. Like he was surprised that you were being so candid with him.

His lips parted around a response that never came. Instead, the two of you were interrupted by a waitress – a new one, wearing a white shirt buttoned to the top and a pair of black slacks. 

“Good evening! Can I get you two started with something to drink?” She chirped, tilting her head. Her eyes flickered between the two of you, settling on Aki. She was a pretty young thing – no older than eighteen, for sure. You had no doubt in your mind that she thought he was cute.

You didn’t blame her. He looked ridiculously handsome tonight.

Aki cast you a sideways glance before ordering for both of you. “We’ll take two glasses of Asahi Black, please, and–” He looked over at you again. “Do you want anything else?”

You couldn’t help the way your eyes widened, still a little shocked that he was addressing you so casually after… well, after everything. Your eyes scanned the menu, catching on the appetizers. You could definitely go for a few pork buns. You hadn’t felt well enough to eat before this. However, the place only served them family style. You weren’t sure you were hungry enough to eat eight of them.

You tapped the page anyway, humming mindlessly, “The pork buns sound good, but they only come in eight pieces. I don’t think I can eat all of that without wasting some.”

He replied, “Order what you want. I’ll finish what you can’t.”

“No, that’s okay, you don’t have to eat them if you don’t want to,” You waved him off awkwardly. 

Aki looked at you. Really looked at you – in that nerve-wracking way he used to once upon a time – before turning back to the waitress. “An order of the pork buns, please. We’ll share.”

Share. You thought. Who would have thought I’d be sharing pork buns with the man I blocked?

When the waitress left, the quiet returned, crowded with things neither of you seemed willing to name. The quiet stretched just a little too long. You couldn’t stand it.

So, naturally, you decided to overshare.

“You look the same,” you said – a half-baked attempt at normalcy. 

He looked up. There was the faintest shift in his expression – not quite surprise, not quite amusement.

“The same?” he echoed.

“Mhm.” You shrugged, pretending to study the condensation sliding down your drink. “A little older, but… Still brooding. Still overdressed.”

His mouth twitched, just slightly. “I’m not overdressed.”

And, just like that, the ice between the two of you had thawed. Not enough to make you comfortable, but enough that conversing with him felt much simpler.

See? This was easy. As long as neither of you brought up the elephant in the room, you could keep up a conversation with him.

“You’re wearing a turtleneck,” you pointed out.

“It’s cold.”

“It’s not that cold.”

A small exhale left him, something dangerously close to a laugh. “I can’t say the same about you. You look different.” 

The comment slipped out so naturally that you almost didn’t catch it. Your heart skipped a devilish little beat, and you wanted to rip it right out of your chest.

You knew you’d put on some weight over the past few years. You weren’t nearly as active as you once had been. Freshman fifteen may have been a bit of an understatement, actually. 

“Always the flatterer,” You scoffed. Wildly informal, and you knew you should not have said it.

“No– I  mean…” Aki rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly and… was he embarrassed? “Not bad different, just… different.”

“Mhm,” You teased, quirking a brow like you still weren’t fully convinced. 

You tried not to think too hard about your body. Here he was, in better shape than he had been the last time you saw him, while you were quite a few pounds chubbier. The curve of your waist a little softer, your stomach a little pudgier.

“It’s… good,” he added quietly, almost too softly for you to hear, and it wasn’t just what he’d said that made your face flush. It was the way he said it – the faint dip of his gaze toward your body, the half-tilt of his head as if he were holding back a different compliment entirely. The way his tongue darted out almost subconsciously to wet his lips and, fuck, maybe you were only imagining the energy shift. 

“You look good.”

Something dangerous curled up in your gut. Something you hadn’t felt in a long time. You tried your best to ignore it.

Though your embarrassment was evident through the heat in your cheeks, you turned your head to the side and counted how many people were around you. Three people at the booth across from you. Eight at one of the long tables.

“I almost didn’t come,” You answered instead.

“I figured,” He replied just as honestly. “I’m glad you did, though. It’s good to see you again after all this time.”

“Himeno would hate me if I turned the offer down,” You braced your elbow on the table, perching your chin on your palm. “Then again, she would also hate the fact that it’s so quiet.”

“Oh, she’d hate it,” He laughed, then, and the sound shot right through you. “She’d probably try coming onto one of her poor kohais.”

You knew from personal experience.

A giggle slipped out before you could stop yourself, “Then she’d order another round. Call us a bunch of pussies if we tapped out.”

God, you could picture it. Himeno, sitting next to you, ordering rounds to the table like she had money growing out of her ass. It was bittersweet. 

You missed her. You had missed her for the past few years. If only you hadn’t been such a fuck-up about explaining yourself to her.

Maybe then, you would have been able to make amends.

“She would,” He added, “She’d be fucking insufferable about it.”

“Completely unbearable,” You laughed. “God, you remember that time she puked in Denji’s mouth?”

For a moment, Aki looked physically ill, like the mere memory of that night was enough to send a chill down his spine. “Don’t get me started.”

“The bitch kissed just about everybody in the Tokyo sector,” You tapped the table. “Myself included. It was only a matter of time before she got to Denji.”

“Would you believe me if I told you I managed to get out scathe free?” He retorted, and the faintest hint of a smile lingered on his lips. 

“No shit,” You knit your brows. “You never…?”

Aki stared back at you, arms folded over the table.

“Sorry, that’s none of my business,” You waved your hands around, as if that were enough to shoo the memories away. You overstepped, you were sure of it.

But, you know… given how close the two of them were, you figured there would have been a little…

You know.

“No, it’s fine,” He huffed out a laugh, “We never kissed. Believe me, though, she tried.”

Aki folded his menu shut, sliding it over the table mindlessly, like he wasn’t really sure about what he should do with his hands. “Back when we first partnered up, she got drunk and tried making me promise to marry her and go private… if we were both single in our thirties,” He paused his motions, eyes flitting up from the table to your face. “Said she didn’t wanna end up like Kishibe.”

Something sharp and unfamiliar pricked at your chest. Something you had no right feeling.

“Did you say yes?” You asked anyway, even though you knew you shouldn’t have given a shit.

He looked up, something flickering in his expression that you couldn’t read. For a moment, just a sliver of hesitation. And then he laughed, “Are you kidding me? I wouldn’t last a week. Fucking alcoholic would convert the entire kitchen to a minibar.”

The image made you burst out laughing, a light, unguarded sound you hadn’t made in a while. And then he did too. That fucking laugh – the one that made your chest ache with recognition – filled the space between you, and for a second, it almost felt normal again. 

Almost.

Then the laughter died. Not abruptly, but slowly, leaving behind a heavier quiet that felt like it had been waiting for the right moment. 

“I wish I never lost contact with her,” you found yourself admitting softly.

He didn’t respond right away. The corners of his mouth twitched in thought. Then he said, quietly, carefully, “Everything’s always clearer in retrospect. There’s a lot I wish I’d done differently, too.”

“With her?” you asked, just to be sure, and the words tasted bitter on your tongue.

Aki looked at you then, and there was something there. Something that made you feel like the two of you were creeping right back into dangerous territory all over again. 

“Yeah,” He said finally, though it wasn’t very convincing. “With her.”

Just then, the waitress returned with your drinks, the clink of glasses breaking the tension like a small exhale. You reached for your cup, letting the cold seep into your hands, pretending you there hadn’t been a time when those words would have sent you spiraling.

Pretending like you weren’t dying to know what he meant.

You took the mug into your hand, feeling the condensation seep into your skin. “Should we toast?”

Aki rotated his own glass, holding it up in anticipation. “You do the honors.”

“To Himeno, the loudest person in the room,” You cleared your throat. “You will be missed.”

“To Himeno,” He parrotted back.

Then, your glasses clinked together, beer sloshing until it tipped over the rim – and for the first time in years, things felt okay… kind of.

You hadn’t meant to get sidetracked. Truly, this was supposed to have been a quick drink – an excuse to catch up with an old coworker and nothing more. But one drink turned into two, then three, and next thing you knew, you were red in the face and wiping tears from your eyes while cackling loudly in an almost empty izakaya.

“To his face, oh my God– wait, stop,” You laughed, struggling to catch your breath. Aki was halfway through a story about Himeno accusing Kishibe of being a “butch-chaser”, and you were apparently halfway into laughing your fucking panties off. “To his face!”

Exhaling through a grin, Aki set his empty mug down. “Didn’t even fuckin’ blink. I’m telling you, she wasn’t human.”

“She’s got a point, though. What was it with… shit… uh… that one chick he was chasing, like… way back when?” You rambled aimlessly. “The lesbian?”

Aki’s grin broke into a shocked expression. “Don’t tell me she was right.”

“Who knows? She dipped her toes in lesbianism herself,” You shrugged, fighting off another bout of drunk giggles, “She told me I… kiss like a man, and that she liked it. What the fuck does that even mean?”

He burst out laughing that time – a sound so unrestrained that it actually caught you off guard. 

But, fuck, it was a beautiful sound. He was smiling, too. Not that bullshit smile he reserved for coworkers at uncomfortable work parties, but a real one that reached his eyes and stayed there a little longer than it was supposed to.

“She tell you that sober or drunk?” He asked.

“You guess,” You shook your head.

The bar had gone quiet around the two of you. Someone behind the bar counter was stacking up glasses, inevitably waiting for you to shut the fuck up and pay. The light above Aki had been flickering for ten minutes now, shining a spotlight on his drunken complexion – the red that tinted his cheeks, the way his lashes fluttered over his cheeks each time he blinked. His eyes, half-lidded and muddled with alcohol, were looking at you. 

Really looking.

You giggled, “What?”

After a beat too long, the corner of Aki’s lip curled up into a guilty little smirk – like he knew you’d caught him staring and didn’t care enough to cover up for it. “Nothing.”

You narrowed your eyes. He picked up his empty mug. Then, noticing that it was already empty, he set it back down.

“It’s just…” He continued quietly. “It’s been a while since I heard you laugh like that.”

You tried your best (which, given your inebriated state, wasn’t much) to ignore what that might have meant. Instead, you feigned a scoff, “What does that mean?”

He noted, “You used to do this thing whenever you smiled… with your eyes.”

“...What?” You huffed out a laugh.

“Nevermind,” He waved you off. 

You leaned closer, pushing your mug aside so you could lean over the table and pout at him. “No, what thinggg?” When he didn’t answer, you pinched his arm. “Stop, don’t leave me hanging.”

“It’s nothing, forget it,” He smiled. “You… uh– you live on campus?”

“No! I’m–” You waved your hand in the air. “I moved.”

God, you needed to stop drinking. Maybe then, you’d be able to shut up.

There was a brief, silent moment. You filled it immediately with more unnecessary information.

“I’m staying with someone, actually. Just for now,” You added, even though nobody asked you. “Feels wrong, living in a building with a bunch of underage drinkers.”

Aki glanced up at you, tilting his head. His bangs shifted over his forehead and out of his eyes, and maybe it was the booze, but you swore he looked almost puppyish. “Staying with…?”

You poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue, biting back a smile. This was the part of the evening where you should have pumped the breaks. Changed the subject. Avoided giving him any more information than you’d already willingly provided. 

“His name’s Kiyoshi,” You replied, suddenly feeling awkward about bringing your roommate up. Before he came up, it was easy to pretend that nothing had happened between the two of you, but now, as he looked expectantly at you, you felt anything but confident. “The guy I spoke to on the phone earlier.”

Aki nodded, like he wasn’t entirely sure where to go from there. 

Like he wished he hadn’t asked. 

“It’s not– We’re not, like… dating,” You chuckled awkwardly. “It’s casual.”

“But…” He glanced between you and the empty izakaya. “You… live with him?”

When you put it that way…

“Casual,” You shrugged. “I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship yet, you know? I feel like I’m too young. Plus, with school, and everything… well, you know.”

Aki pursed his lips, nodding. “Okay.”

“I’m serious,” You added, getting the sense that he didn’t believe that.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“He’s fine. He’s a good person. He wants to– I think he wants it to be more serious than it is, though, and I just,” You stopped yourself from continuing.

Aki gestured for you to continue anyway.

You sighed, feeling the tension leave your lungs in one fell swoop. If anyone would understand your fucked up perspective on relationships, it would be the man who contributed most significantly to it. “I don’t know. I think I wanted something easy after the job, after losing all of it. He’s not the problem. I wanted something normal after…”

You trailed off, picked at the hem of your skirt.

“After what?” 

You looked at him – the way the light sat low on his face, the way he was acting like he didn’t know when he definitely did.

You gave him a short exhale in response. Almost a laugh. “You know what.”

He opened his mouth. Clearly decided that it was better to leave what happened between you buried for the sake of ending the night on a good note. Closed it.

“That reminds me. There’s something Himeno left for you,” He commented instead. “Found it when I was going through her things. It had your name on it. I’ll bring it to the funeral tomorrow.”

“What is it?”

The faintest trace of a smile teased his face. “Wouldn’t tell you even if I knew. Isn’t that the whole point?”

You furrowed your brows. “Well now I’m dying to know. Can’t I just come by and like, pick it up, or something?”

The words were out before you could think about them. Before you could remind yourself that you had been the one to walk out of his life. It was too easy to get comfortable around him. 

“Sorry,” You pulled back immediately. “God, what time is it? I know it’s late, never–”

“No,” He interjected, eyes wide as he regained his composure at the notion that you were willing to stop by his place. He turned his arm over, checking his wristwatch – which looked expensive. “We can… stop by my apartment if you want. It’s only midnight. I don’t mind.”

“No, it’s okay,” You shook your head, forcing a laugh to cover up your own embarrassment. You’d overstepped again. You’d forgotten what this was – an obligation. “You’re a bit far from where I’m staying.”

The two of you were over. 

“I can drive you back,” He replied. “I’d need to sober up a bit first, but… if you don’t mind hanging out for a bit. Keep catching up for a few, and I’ll drive you back after.”

The fact of the matter was that this wasn’t three years ago. This was now. This was the aftermath of what had transpired between you and him so many months ago. You weren’t friends, and you’d made it abundantly clear that you weren’t coworkers either.

In that regard, you shouldn’t have been anything at all. You wanted to keep it that way.

“Or I could call you a taxi,” He added afterwards.

He was only being practical. You knew the way he worked. Aki Hayakawa was not the kind of man who would come back into your life after two and a half years (briefly) and immediately bring you to his apartment for the sole purpose of sex. You had history, yes, but none of that changed the fact that he’d hurt you. You’d hurt him. The two of you were terrible together, and that was not a mistake you intended to repeat.

He offered to drive. He offered to call you a taxi, too. Both options were on the table, and neither seemed loaded with sexual tension or desire to hurt you. You were the one making it weird in your own head. Conceivably, you knew that.

Yet, there was a part of you that remained frozen in time – walking out of his office and begging for him to follow.

Exes remain cordial all the time. I can do this for Himeno.

You pursed your lips. “You got any good movies on VHS?”

“Definitely not,” He answered honestly. 

You were drunk. Not drunk enough to realize that you were about to make a grave mistake, but drunk enough that you didn’t care enough to stop it. Drunk enough that the thought of being alone with him – of catching up somewhere quieter, of exchanging gifts and then going on your merry old way – didn’t seem so bad.

You pressed your lips together, looking down at the light oak surface of the izakaya booth until you could come up with a response. A real, morally righteous response that you would have also made sober.

“I shouldn’t,” You sighed. “But… alright.”

The corner of Aki’s mouth moved. You looked away first.

“Look,” You began, “Aki, I…”

At that very same moment, the young waitress appeared at the end of the booth, pen already in hand. “Can I get you guys the bill?” She asked.

“Yes,” You answered, reaching for your purse immediately. You rummaged through it, adding, “Yes, I got it.”

Aki waved his hand as if to shoo you off. “No you don’t. I asked you here in the first place.”

“But–” You huffed, relenting before turning to the waitress and saying firmly, “We’ll split it, please.”

He nodded at that. The waitress did, too, reaching into her apron for the check and holding out a small gray tin with a bill.

After a minute of digging, you found your wallet. You plucked your card out from the slot near the front and reached over to hand it to her. You didn’t have a chance. Before you could set your card down, Aki reached in front of you, setting his own card down on the tray.

“Just put it on mine,” He answered pleasantly. “Thanks.”

You gaped at him as the waitress nodded her head and walked away with the bill, leaving you waiting with your debit card pinched uselessly between two limp fingers. Aki only smiled at you – that devilish, cocky smile that at one point had swept you off your feet.

The name, “Aki…” slipped off your lips before you could correct yourself.

Not Hayakawa. Not Captain.

Aki.

He definitely noticed, if the way his smile faltered was any indicator. It had been too easy – you hadn’t thought before you spoke.

You tried to play it off, reaching into your bag and swapping your card out for a few wrinkled bills. Dammit.

“I’m not taking your money, so put that away,” He sighed, like he’d already predicted that you would try to pay him off.

You didn’t like being indebted to him. 

The waitress sauntered back over to the table with a new check in hand. Aki’s card was clipped to the top, along with a pen. She set it down in front of him, casting him an easy smile. “Have a great night.”

Aki scrawled his signature across the bottom of the check without looking at it, tucked his card back into his wallet, and then set his gaze on you. Then, pulling his coat on over his arms, he told you, “Let’s head out. I’ll call us a cab.”

Us.

You groaned quietly, leaning back in your seat and pressing a hand flat against your full stomach. Too much beer. Too few carbs to soak it up. Sliding to the edge of the booth, you planted your feet on the ground and stood for the first time in hours. Your heels, however, had another plan in mind.

They met the floor unevenly, and your body made a conscious decision to lean sideways, and before you knew it, his hand was at the small of your back, steadying you like it was second fucking nature. Like keeping you safe was muscle memory to him.

Neither of you said anything about it. He cleared his throat, moving his hand away as if he’d been burned by you, and you made yourself busy with smoothing out your coat. Your skirt. Anything but looking at him.

“Thanks for the booze…” You muttered. “And the food.”

“My pleasure,” He replied – sickeningly formal, like always, but…

God, no. 

Stop reading into this.

You’d worked so hard to move past him, and now here you were, suspended once more in that gray area between cordiality and something that didn’t have a name.

Something that was better left buried. 

I just have to make it a little while longer, You resolved, setting out for the exit without looking back. A little while longer, then I can pretend this never happened.

You would regret it tomorrow, for sure, but…

Well, that was a tomorrow problem.

You elbowed the door of the izakaya open. The cold air hit you in the face first, making your eyes narrow into slits. Then, there was something wet – tiny droplets of water landing against your cheek. 

You winced. “Shit. I didn’t even think to bring an umbrella.”

Aki was already shrugging off his coat when you looked back at him. He draped the black fabric over his forearm, holding it out to you.

You looked down at it. Then back at him. “That’s… That’s cashmere.”

“It is.”

“I’m not… taking your cashmere coat in the rain,” You pushed the coat back towards him.

He held it back out to you. “I’ll take it to the dry cleaners. It’s not a problem.”

“I’m not–”

“Take the coat,” He commanded evenly.

You paused. “But… then you’ll get wet.”

“I’ll live,” He rolled his eyes. “Take it.”

You took a small step back. Then, another. “No.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I–”

“Take the damn coat. I don’t want you catching a cold,” He sighed, dropping the coat into your arms with a resounding plop before turning his attention to the street. He raised an arm above his head, flagging a cab down.

“Aki,” You groaned.

Fuck, there it is again.

He noticed. Both of you did.

A cab pulled up to the curb, headlights cutting through the rain as it parallel parked into a spot tucked neatly between two cars. The tires crunched against the pavement. Aki took the coat from you and draped it over your shoulders in one motion.

Immediately, the smell of his cologne enveloped you. A cloud of that deep, velvety scent surrounded you, comforting you a whole lot more than it probably should have. You told yourself it was just a natural reaction to the scent of a very nice cologne.

“On the count of three, we run,” He held up two fingers, pointing in the direction of the cab.

“Wait–” You sputtered, attempting to at least pull the coat around yourself properly. You pulled the neckline up over your head, figuring you’d at least try to preserve what was left of your hairdo. “I can’t see–”

“One…” He counted down. “Two…”

“I literally cannot see–”

“Three.”

A warm, familiar hand grabbed yours. You didn’t have time to think about the way your heart kicked into a much faster beat, or the way your stomach turned without your permission. Aki was tugging you in the direction of the cab, and you were running with him.

The rain fell in rivulets down the hem of your skirt. The sidewalk – slightly concave, for some odd reason – was littered with puddles. Your heels kicked up water as you jogged with him.

This was ridiculous.

You couldn’t see where you were going, yet you found yourself laughing at the absurdity of it all. You hadn’t run in the rain since you were a child, and now here you were with the man you’d sworn you never wanted to see again, running hand in hand to the street.

Aki stopped short, opening the cab door for you, and you skidded into him.

“Shit–” You giggled. You collapsed into the back seat laughing, coat only halfway on and your hair damp at the edges. You shuffled over to the seat behind the driver, leaving room for Aki to sit next to you. 

He pulled the door shut behind him, slightly breathless, and the cab went quiet – bar the rain tapping against the windows. His laughter faded first, then yours. Then, for some reason you couldn’t quite explain, you were staring at him again.

His hair was damp – having received a significant amount of rainfall only a few seconds prior. It stuck to his face around his forehead and his cheeks, framing his eyes. You watched the way his tongue darted out to wet the corner of his lips.

You hardly heard the words leave his lips when he rattled his address off to the taxi driver. You couldn’t seem to look away from him.

He looked at you. You looked away. 

“At least bring me the dry cleaner’s receipt,” You shook the rainwater from your hair. 

When he turned his head to look out the window instead of replying, you scoffed. Still, you slipped your arms into the sleeves anyway, even though you really had no business doing so.

But, fuck, was it soft. The scent made you feel strange. Very strange.

The cab turned into the street. Rain began to streak sideways down the windows, and then you were driving through the heart of the city.

A decent amount of time passed before either of you spoke. The driver had the radio on low, cranked to some city pop station you couldn’t name, and the sound broke the awkward silence into something much more comfortable.

“I forgot how much it rains here,” You commented quietly, resting your cheek against the window.

You could see Aki’s reflection in the window next to your cheek. You watched the road go by and Aki kept his eyes on the road.

Outside, the rain kept going.

a/n: i know im horrible. lowkey didn't like how this one came out, but! not about to rewrite it. i'm on summer break tho so.... i anticipate having some more time..... ;) stay tunedddddddd! if you liked this chapter, you'll loooooove the next one ;D xo

credits: einruji__ on twitter . I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

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