"more than onigiri" sameoka shoji
this is part 2 of "come back for a fourth" as promised teehehe I finally will stop writing in my slow-burn style and I want to add part twos to most of the one shots so i can do the romance justice i PROMISE. But i hope you enjoy this hehehe
The convenience store was unusually quiet that evening. She was stacking cans behind the counter during a lull, chatting softly with her coworker to pass the time.
“You going to the festival tomorrow?” her coworker asked with a smile.
She nodded, a small, wistful smile playing on her lips. “Yeah… I’m planning to. I’ve never really been to one, not properly. But I don’t really have anyone to go with.”
Shoji stood just a few feet away, pretending to chat with Fujin and Raijin near the drink fridge. His posture was casual, but his eyes never fully left her. He knew better than to get too close when his friends were around—there were things he didn’t want dragging him down, and he wasn’t about to let anyone think they were more than just acquaintances.
Still, the moment the words left her lips, his fingers froze mid-motion as a shadow flickered across his usually composed face.
She didn’t realize he was still there. She always kept her guard up around him too—protecting herself from getting caught in whatever world his friends belonged to. They shared smiles and light teasing when alone, but with Fujin and Raijin nearby, distance was the safest option.
Shoji said nothing then. He knew she wasn’t ready to share more, and he wasn’t about to pry in front of his friends. But hearing her like that, so quietly vulnerable, made something in him shift.
When the night of the festival came, he was already there.
The summer festival was alive with colours and noise, a world away from the quiet convenience store where she usually worked. Lanterns hung like stars above the crowded streets, casting warm glows on faces flushed from excitement and sticky from festival treats.
She hadn’t been to a festival in years, and tonight was supposed to be special. She’d saved for weeks, promising herself a night out but the absence of a familiar face made the crowd suddenly feel overwhelming.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for the paper scoop at a goldfish game stall. The thin paper tore easily, slipping beneath her grasp before she could catch even one. A soft sigh escaped her lips.
“You’re bad at hiding when you’re sulking.”
The voice was low but unmistakable. She turned sharply, heart skipping.
Shoji stood there, hands tucked casually in the pockets of his jeans. His usual blue jacket was folded over one arm, the sharp bruise on his cheek now faint in the festival’s glowing light. In his other hand, he held two bottles of ramune, the glass catching the lantern light like liquid stars.
“For company,” he said, offering her a bottle.
Her mouth went dry. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
He shrugged, expression unreadable, but there was something softer in his eyes tonight. “Didn’t plan to come. Just… heard you didn’t have anyone to go with.”
"You're eavesdropping on me now?" She chuckled.
The simplicity of the statement caught her off guard. The crowded noise around them faded for a moment, replaced by a quiet she hadn’t known she was craving.
She accepted the bottle, the cool glass warm in her hands, and together they moved deeper into the festival.
Shoji didn’t say much, but his presence was grounding. As they weaved between booths selling candied apples and grilled corn, she noticed the way he subtly steered her away from groups of rowdy boys shouting insults in the distance—likely from one of the rival schools.
The lanterns swayed gently overhead, casting warm pools of light on the bustling festival streets. She kept close to Shoji’s side, grateful for the steady calm he brought to the noisy chaos around them.
As they weaved through clusters of laughing teenagers and families, a sudden shout startled her—someone bumped into her roughly, nearly making her stumble.
Without thinking, Shoji’s hand closed around hers, firm but gentle. The contact grounded her, steadying her heart as much as her footing.
For a moment, neither of them said a word. Their fingers intertwined naturally, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
She glanced up at him, surprised to find his usual sharp gaze softened by something like quiet protectiveness.
The crowd pressed around them, but in that simple touch, she felt like she wasn’t alone anymore.
They stopped by a ring toss game, the prizes bright and gaudy under a flickering light. With a teasing glance, she challenged, “Bet you can’t win.”
He shot her a rare smirk and picked up the rings. Each toss was precise, landing with a satisfying clink on the bottles. When the last ring dropped perfectly over the top, he turned to her, holding out a small plush keychain—a chubby tanuki with a mischievous grin.
“For the onigiri,” he said softly.
She laughed, the sound light and easy, fingers brushing against his as she took the prize.
As the sky darkened further, the first fireworks exploded in bursts of red and gold. They found a spot on a nearby rooftop—quiet, removed from the bustling crowd below. The glow of the fireworks illuminated Shoji’s profile, softening his usually sharp features.
“I never knew you liked festivals,” she said, watching the colourful explosions paint the sky.
He shrugged, eyes fixed on the lights. “I don’t.”
She frowned. “Then why are you here?”
Shoji’s gaze shifted to her, steady and direct. “Because you were alone. Because sometimes even the strongest need company.”
The confession was almost too quiet to hear, but it lingered between them like a fragile promise.
When the show ended, they descended back to the street. The warm summer night smelled of grilled food and laughter, but the walk home felt calm, private.
At her street corner, Shoji stopped, his fingers still laced with hers.
“Same time tomorrow?” he asked.
She smiled, a little breathless. “For onigiri?”
His smirk was slow, deliberate, but there was something vulnerable in his eyes she hadn’t seen before.
“No,” he said, stepping a little closer, “To see you. And maybe… something more.”
Her cheeks flushed, and she swallowed hard.
Shoji’s hand lingered near her face, thumb lightly tracing her cheek.
She froze, breath catching at the unexpected touch. Then, before she could think twice, he leaned in. His hand wrapped around her waist, the other gently pulling her face closer. She closed her eyes, and felt his lips finally— ever so gently— touch hers.
The kiss was soft, careful, like testing the waters, but full of all the things unspoken between them: gratitude, curiosity, something tender hiding beneath the tough exterior.
Her eyes fluttered closed, and when they parted, Shoji rested his forehead against hers, voice barely a whisper.
“I’ve been coming back… not just for the onigiri”
She smiled, breathless and warm, the city lights around them suddenly brighter, the night full of possibility.
