writersblockavenue

When he walked into his boss’ office that morning, he had every intention of just handing in his resignation letter, but Imada convinced him to sit down and talk. And, an hour later, they were still talking, and Imada was now offering him an even bigger salary in an even bigger role. He had just been promoted a few years ago, and he wasn’t expecting such a big promotion any time soon. Sure, his numbers were good – great, even – but his company was infamous for taking long times to promote people to higher positions.

It would be dumb of him to say no. The position would be perfect for him. The salary would be amazing. So why was he considering saying no?

Right. Yuki.

“I... need some time to think about it,” he said. “But I appreciate the offer immensely . ”

As Choso sat at the Komorebi Café that night after work, he pondered his life. He had a good job with a stable income. A nice apartment. A big savings account. But what was he saving for?

He could’ve married Hitomi. Used his savings on a wedding and to buy a house. But he didn’t, because he didn’t want to marry Hitomi. He couldn’t picture himself marrying Saki, his girlfriend from college, either.

The only woman he could picture himself marrying was on the other side of the country. So, really, what was keeping him in Tokyo? Sure, he had a nice job, but he could find another in Sapporo—he was offered one in Sapporo. The counteroffer from his boss was good, and he would be stupid to pass on it, but maybe he would be stupid by staying in Tokyo when all he could see for his future was him dying alone on Skype with Yuki, who would’ve probably moved on to someone else.

Speaking of Skype, it was a Friday night, and neither had plans, so they agreed to video call that night. They talked—as in, Yuki rambled, and Choso listened—about all the latest drama; with her job, with her coworkers, with her family.

“Like, I’ll get married when I want to get married, you know? Yes, I’m thirty, but that doesn’t mean anything!” Yuki said, exasperated at her parents meddling in her life.

“Yeah, my parents are the same,” Choso nodded. “It’s grating, to say the least.”

“Right!” Yuki threw her arms in the air and puffed.

When she looked back at the camera, she went quiet for a few beats, the silence stretching between them as Choso frowned slightly at the sudden change of pace, and she bit her bottom lip.

 “I… I got a job offer for a Senior Project Manager for Retail Innovation for a big retail chain company. Big step up in responsibility and influence. Plus a good salary increase,” she said, though there was very little excitement in her voice.

“Oh my God, Yuki, congratulations—“

“It’s in Tokyo.”

Choso’s eyebrows arched immediately, his heartbeat raising slightly. He would’ve been more excited, but not with the way she announced it. Not when she wasn’t excited about it at all.

“It… It seems like an amazing opportunity, Yuki. But you seem… hesitant?”

She sighed, pulling her legs up on the chair and against her chest. “I am. It’s a lot of change if I accept it. Not just the job and the company. I’ve built a life here in Sapporo. I don’t know… Sapporo is a part of who I am. Tokyo is a part of who I was.”

“I get it. Moving would not be easy when your life is tethered to Sapporo. Coming back to Tokyo would bring up a lot of memories and cause a lot of change. You’ve spent your entire adult life in Sapporo, it’s normal for you to be hesitant about leaving all of that behind,” Choso said. “But you’ve always been great at adapting. This would be no different. Of course, I think I’m a little biased in the matter.”

“I know,” Yuki gave him a small smile before sighing again. “I’m worried that I’ve built this image of Tokyo in my head that is just not the reality. And I’m worried about starting over. It’s been so long since I’ve been there, what if it’s not the same?”

“It definitely won’t be the same. You grew up, and so did the Tokyo you knew. The Tokyo of your adult life won’t be the same as your childhood’s. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. It could be the start of something new, something fresh,” Choso explained. “Plus, not all has changed. I’m still here.”

Yuki smiled again, and she looked down, her smile fading as she fiddled with the hem of her shirt until she finally looked back up at her screen. “Will… Will things be weird between us? If I move to Tokyo?”

That made Choso pause. The bond we have right now is something I wouldn’t trade for any ‘what-if’, she said last year. The bond they had—a friendship. Choso was well aware at that point that his feelings for Yuki went beyond that, and it felt like he was having deja vu as he pushed them away in order not to ruin their friendship once again.

“Our friendship has survived a lot, Yuki. Distance, silence, everything in between. I don’t think you moving back would change that. It might actually give us a chance to catch up properly, in person,” he said, though his feelings spoke differently. “There’s a coffee place I think you would like. I’d love to show it to you.”

Yuki nodded slightly, a small smile on her lips. “I’ll think about the offer. They gave me a week to reply. That’s enough time to think and overthink about all the pros and cons.”

Choso chuckles, running a hand through his still slightly damp hair from his earlier shower.

“It’s funny. I got a job offer in Sapporo, too, this week,” he told her.

“Really? But you didn’t really consider moving to Sapporo, did you? I mean, Tokyo is a lot better for your field, and there’s nothing really in Sapporo for you,” Yuki said.

There is you, Choso thought.

“I guess I’m not doing a great job at selling my city. Let me try again,” she cleared her throat. “Come to Sapporo, Choso, we can go to the Maruyama Park and go skiing in Mount Moiwa or go star-gazing at the Mout Okura Observatory.”

Choso chuckled, feeling his body temperature heat up at the thought of doing all those things with Yuki. “You drive a hard bargain.”

“What did you tell them, anyway?” Yuki asked, eating a piece of matcha Pocky.

“Well, the offer was tempting, but my boss matched it and actually offered to give me a promotion to Software Architect. I told her I would think about it, but…”

But if you’re coming here, there’s no reason for me to go there, was what he wanted to say.

“But I’ll probably accept the promotion,” was what he said instead.

“Yeah, good for you, you should do that,” Yuki nodded. “Isn’t it funny how these milestones always happen for us at the same time? The promotions, the job offers?”

Choso gulped. He had observed that before. He couldn’t phantom the meaning of it, but it was undeniable. Their lives were tethered to each other in a synchronized way neither could understand.

“It’s very curious,” he said.

“Anyway, tell me about your new tattoo,” Yuki changed the subject, and Choso smiled.

She still couldn’t stay on subject for long. Not that much had changed.

“It’s two koi fish, kind of like yin and tang, on my shoulder,” he explained.

He had gotten other tattoos throughout the years, finding some solace in permanently inking his body. He enjoyed the aesthetics of it, and he also enjoyed the little meanings he would conjure up for each tattoo.

Except for the black stripe on his face. That had no meaning other than him trying to prove to himself that he was still a person outside his job and major.

There was a snake and a ship’s wheel in his left arm and cherry blossoms on his right one. The ship’s wheel was supposed to mean a sense of direction and control over his destiny. The cherry blossoms were a reminder of the transient beauty of life. He had just gotten the koi fish—a symbol of perseverance and the courage to overcome obstacles—and he wanted to complete his sleeves in the next few years with similar tattoos to the ones he had already, as well as other tattoos on his body he had planned.

The meanings were mostly silly and extremely personal, and he didn’t think he needed meaning to get a tattoo, but he liked associating them with something or a moment in his life.

“Show me,” Yuki smiled.

Choso gave her a half-smile, unzipping his sweatshirt and shrugging it off his left shoulder, turning so Yuki could see it on camera.

“It looks amazing! And it’s on your left shoulder, too! Now we both got shoulder tattoos,” she said, making him smile more broadly.

“Do you want to get more tattoos someday?” Choso put his sweatshirt back on and adjusted himself.

“Mm, I don’t know. I like having just this one, for now,” she tapped her finger against her left shoulder blade and the coordinates that rested inked there.

“You don’t regret getting it, then? We were pretty young. I wouldn’t blame you,” Choso asked, biting his bottom lip.

Yuki smiled, tilting her head slightly. “No, I don’t regret it. Actually, it’s my favorite thing in my body. Every time I look at it in the mirror, I remember all the good times we had together. I guess I just never had that bond with someone else, not worth it enough to get it tattooed on my body.”

Choso’s cheeks flushed with the knowledge that, despite Yuki having been in two relationships since they started talking again, and who knows how many others in the time they were not talking, none of those people shared the connection with her that she had with Choso.

It made his heart beat faster, it made his palms sweat, it made his stomach flutter like that one night when they were ten, and she told him they would get married in the future. Protagonists get butterflies in their stomachs when thinking about their loved ones, was what made him realize he was in love with Yuki for the first time—twenty years ago.

And just like then, she still saw him as a friend. Just like then, he was too afraid of losing her friendship to make any actual moves to be with her.

So they went to sleep, each lying in bed with their laptops, talking until their eyelids closed, and spent the entire night on the video call, just sleeping with each other.

*

2016 | Thirty-one years old

Choso waited for Yuki at the train station with bated breath. He even considered printing one of those signs drivers use for their clients to locate them as a joke, but his printer ran out of ink that morning, and the Ms. Yuki Tsukumo turned into a gray and white mess.

When the train arrived and people started filtering out of it, Choso’s heartbeat could be heard from the other side of the station.

And there she was. Still the tall blonde girl he knew, but the person emerging from the train and seeing him wasn’t a girl—she was a woman. She was wearing a cropped black top with light-wash baggy denim pants and a black unzipped oversized sweatshirt hanging from her forearms as she dragged three large suitcases.

“Hey, Choso!” Yuki smiled and waved at him from across the platform.

Choso’s heart stopped for a second at the sight of Yuki, over a decade since they last saw each other in person, but he quickly went to her and grabbed two of the suitcases off her hands.

He was more than surprised, though, when she jumped into a hug, lacing her arms around his neck. Surprised and overwhelmed at the feeling of her so close to him, yet not about to miss out on the opportunity, Choso let go of the bags to hug Yuki back, wrapping his arms around her waist.

She was really there. Yuki had accepted the job in Tokyo and moved. She was really in Tokyo, and for good. He was hugging her, feeling her hug him. He could smell her perfume. Hear her breathing.

The hug must’ve lasted for a few seconds only, but it felt like an eternity to Choso, and he wished it had never ended. It felt as if time stood still for that moment, to let him relish in every little detail that he had forgotten about Yuki’s presence.

“That trip was so long, oh my God! I forgot how long it was,” Yuki huffed. “How are you? Sorry to wake you up so early on a Saturday.”

“I—“ Choso’s voice came out a lot more high-pitched than normal, so he cleared his throat. “I’m fine. And it’s no problem. I’m happy to help you, and I’m happy to see you as well.”

Yuki smiled, and that smile turned into a smirk. “All those years, and you’re still shorter than I am, huh? What did your doctor say again? That you would match my height when you turned nineteen or twenty?”

She playfully leaned her elbow on his shoulder to showcase their height difference. It wasn’t huge, but Yuki was still taller than him. And it was true—at some point during their teenage years, Choso was so insecure about being shorter than Yuki, even if he was tall by any standards, that he made his doctor promise he would match or surpass Yuki’s height at some point.

Safe to say that didn’t happen.

“All those years, and you’re still not letting that go,” he said.

“Well, how could I! I’ve been waiting for over a decade to make that joke,” Yuki chuckled, removing her elbow from his shoulder and grabbing her suitcase. “Let’s go, then. We have a full day ahead of us. The boxes should be arriving in an hour and a half.”

“Actually, there’s a place I want to show you first, the café I told you about,” Choso said and glanced at his watch. “Should be empty enough by now that we won’t be a hassle with the suitcases. It’s on the way to your apartment.”

“Lead the way, then,” Yuki gave him a big grin, and he smiled back.

They made their way to a cab and to the Komorebi Café, lugging the suitcases along the way. Yuki was too preoccupied with trying to roll her bag into the coffee shop to first notice it, but once she did and the door behind her closed, her eyes went round at the corners in awe.

“Wow. Komorebi, right? It does have that feeling,” Yuki said, regarding the meaning of the word for the sunlight filtering through leaves. “It’s beautiful, Choso. Do you come here often?”

He nodded. “Practically every day.”

Yuki smirked. “You bring all girls here, huh?”

“Well,” Choso chuckled. “You’re the first person I brought here, actually.”

The café always felt like a part of Yuki that had somehow been with Choso all those years since he found it. And then, taking her there, it felt like he was sharing a part of his world that had been silently waiting for her return.

“I feel so special,” Yuki said with a mocking tone. “Come on. Don’t lie. How long ago did you find this place?”

“About eight years ago. It was cold, and I needed a place to warm up and… just found it.”

“And in those eight years, you never brought anyone else here?” Yuki questioned and Choso shrugged. “What is wrong with you? You’re supposed to share a place you like so they won’t close! Especially in Tokyo.”

“They’re not going to close, they’re always full. Plus, I wanted to keep this one to myself,” Choso said.

“And to me, now, too,” Yuki said with a small smile.

Choso bit his bottom lip and nodded. “So, uh, the lattes are really good.”

They sat at a table next to a window that overlooked the street and the café, sharing pastries as they talked. Yuki told Choso all about her eight-hour trip adventure and how she wished she had chosen a car ride, but she knew that a car would be a waste of space and money in Tokyo.

As they finished their breakfast—with Yuki raving about how good the coffee and the pastries were and how this would be their spot from now on—they went to her new apartment to unpack the boxes that were just arriving, along with her suitcases.

The apartment was in Sangenjaya, not too far from Choso’s place in Shibuya. It was a one-bedroom with a spacious living area and a small open-concept kitchen. Large windows shed natural light on the still-bare space, but Choso already knew that, by the end of the day, Yuki would have the space looking and feeling like her. Like home.

And he was right. While he was more preoccupied with assembling her furniture, Yuki was decorating the spaces with various trinkets. The walls had art pieces she collected throughout the years, and her shelves were full of books.

It was late evening when they were done unpacking, and her apartment was starting to look like a home. Boxes were emptied, furniture was set. Choso and Yuki sat side by side on the floor, each finishing a beer as a reward for their hard work today.

“I can’t believe we actually did it. Thank you for helping me, Choso. I couldn’t have done it without you, that’s for sure,” Yuki said with an exhausted but happy sigh.

“Happy to help. It’s good to have you back in Tokyo, Yuki,” he said, looking at her.

She was really there. Not just a face on his screen or a picture next to her messages. Seeing her there, so close to him, reignited feelings that he had tried—and failed—for so long to compartmentalize.

“It’s been a long day. I’m not sure I’m ready to face tomorrow and start this new chapter. Feels strange. Like walking on eggshells. Don’t know when the next one will break,” Yuki sighed, taking another swing of her beer.

Walking on eggshells. He could definitely empathize with the feeling. Seems like that’s all he did around her. “You’ll do great, Yuki. You always do. And I’ll always be here if you, you know, need anything.”

She looked his way, their eyes connecting and a pregnant pause hanging in the air as they were both void of what to say or do next. The air was thick and charged with the possibilities of something more. Does he tell her now? How he had felt all those years? Put an end to this charade?

No, he couldn’t. They’ve finally found their way back to each other, even if it’s not exactly how he wanted it to happen. The weight of their past, the unresolved ‘what-ifs,’ and the fear of ruining their friendship when Yuki had just moved back to Tokyo all hung heavy on his shoulders as he cleared his throat and got up from the floor, offering her a hand to help her up.

“Rest up. You have a big day tomorrow. And remember, I’m just a call away,” Choso told her, going to the front door while Yuki followed him.

“Thank you, Choso. It means a lot, really,” she gave him a close-lipped smile.

They both stood at the door, but neither made a move to open it. The moment hangs thick in the air, all the unspoken feelings ringing and buzzing in Choso’s mind as neither of them makes a move to bridge the gap any further. It’s a dance they’ve perfected over the years—being close enough to be in each other’s lives yet careful not to cross the unspoken boundaries put in place by their decision to remain friends.

The bond we have right now is something I wouldn’t trade for any ‘what-if’, she said before, tracing the line in the sand.

The thought woke him up from his trance, and he tore his gaze from Yuki’s to turn around and face the door, turning the knob.

“Goodnight, Choso. And thank you for everything,” Yuki said as he stepped outside. In her grand stature, she looked and sounded incredibly small at that moment.

Was that how it would always be? Just friends, always a step or a move away from what he truly wanted? It’s better than losing her, but on that warm September night, it felt like a cold comfort.

Then, it started getting stressful. She couldn’t find a venue that matched her vision perfectly, and even the wedding planner was losing hope at fourteen months left to the ceremony. When they did find one, though, it was like it fell on Yuki’s lap from heaven. It was perfect, straight out of her dreams, and the availability perfectly matched their intended date of a spring wedding—the same season Yuki first walked into Choso’s patisserie.

But the stress didn’t stop there. Wedding dresses and shoes. Photographers and videographers. Flower arrangements. DJs and other live entertainment. Invitations and RSVPs. Bridesmaids dresses and bachelorette parties. Transportation. Hair and make-up. Seating plans. Writing vows.

It was a lot, and even though Yuki was having fun creating the wedding of her dreams, it was still a lot, and she was stressed out of her mind.

Choso tries to relieve some of her stress by helping out with the planning, but Yuki has a very clear image of what the wedding should—and will—look like, and he can’t do much other than agree to whatever she says. Whenever she does give him a choice, he chooses the wrong option, and she ends up just choosing for him anyway.

“This napkin,” she raises a sample of a white napkin. “Or this one?”

The other napkin is also white. They look exactly the same, but Choso isn’t about to tell her that. “The second one.”

“Wrong. You’re supposed to choose the first one. It’s okay, though, you’ll learn sooner or later,” she gives him a teasing smile.

The only thing Choso can really do to help is start to make meals for her again since she is so neck-deep into planning that it’s like she’s planning an exhibition again and forgetting to eat. So he does that, on top of being in charge of the catering and the cake, of course. The only part Yuki trusts him with, and even for that, she has specific visions for the cake that she shows to him so it matches the rest of the wedding, but otherwise tells him that have creative freedom to surprise her.

He pours his heart and soul into the creation of the dessert table and the cake, as well as all the food and appetizers that will be served, hoping that it will match Yuki’s vision and please her. He wishes he could show it to her beforehand, at least have her do a cake test, but she did say she wanted to be surprised. Plus, so far, Yuki has loved anything he has ever baked for her before.

Choso might have considered that she could’ve just been being nice, but she truly seemed to enjoy his creations as much as he enjoyed creating them for her.

Truly, the only thing they do together preparing for the wedding is choosing the rings. And Yuki has done a lot of research already into what would suit her engagement ring because she wants to wear both for the rest of her life—so, again, Choso is just more going with the flow and picking a similar one as they are in the store that Yuki chose.

“Would you guys want to have something engraved into it?” the lady behind the counter who is helping them asks with a big, warm smile.

“Oh, I hadn't thought about that,” Yuki says, looking at both rings displayed in front of her.

Each ring is made from polished gold, with sleek and clean lines. Choso’s has a broader band, strong and sturdy but still sophisticated and simple. Yuki’s is a bit slimmer and more delicate.

“They are thick and wide enough for you to engrave a phrase, as long as it isn’t too long. A few words should be fine,” the saleswoman adds.

“What do you think?” Yuki asks Choso, and he wonders if it’s another trick question. If he will suggest something and she will say nope, wrong answer, you’ll get it right eventually.

“Mm… How about ‘baked with love’?” Choso says, getting ready for rejection.

Instead, he sees Yuki’s eyes grow wide, and a smile appears on her face. “I love that! Would that fit?”

She’s asking the vendor now, who nods. “Yes, that will fit perfectly. We can choose the font now, and we’ll send it to get it engraved. Should be ready in a few weeks.”

“Perfect,” Yuki smiles.

They get the rings three weeks later. Baked with love is engraved on the inside of each band in delicate script, its presence only known to the two of them. A secret whisper of affection that will encircle their fingers once they are done exchanging vows. They still have time to go and things to arrange, and Yuki is sure she will lose so much hair that none will be left when the wedding comes and they finally exchange the rings.

Choso is sure everything will turn out perfectly, to which he gets a slap on the arm from her and a berating since he’s not the one planning the wedding and losing his mind over it. He wants to say that he would like to be more involved if she would allow him to have a say on something, but he doesn’t. Something about a happy wife and a happy life.

*

It was getting closer and closer.

The invitations have been sent. White cardstock with embossed floral designs.

The wedding favors are ready. Beautiful glass containers with hand-poured candles that smell like marshmallows and a hint of orange, just like Yuki’s perfume.

Yuki has done her hair and makeup trials and bought her shoes, limited edition Manolo Blahniks. Her dress is getting final alterations done. It is four months until the wedding, and most big things were finalized—now it is just the small details, all the small details.

Choso and Yuki are sitting at the stools in front of the counter after Choso gets home from work and brings her a pastry, another custom of theirs. Something he had baked just for her.

“It’s a Mont Blanc Tarte,” Choso says, though it doesn’t mean much to Yuki, who was getting more knowledgeable about patisserie stuff by the day but was still quite ignorant when Choso brought home something this unique rather than an éclair or a swiss roll.

It’s more of a monument than a pastry, that she can say for sure. It begins with a golden-brown firm and flaky thick foundation, followed by a thin layer of chocolate ganache. Swirled over the ganache in precise, concentric circles is a luxurious chestnut cream, piped to form a soft, velvety dome. On top of the tarte is a glossy caramel glaze-covered chestnut, perched like a jewel, with a thin, amber sugar spiral that ascends dramatically upwards. Tiny flecks of gold leaf are scattered around the base of the chestnut as well.

“Looks stunning,” Yuki smiles at Choso before digging in, taking the first bite and humming in delight. “Tastes amazing as well.”

“Mont Blanc means ‘white mountain’, the peaks of the French Alps. Then it became associated with this dessert because it looks like a snow-capped mountain,” Choso begins the history lesson without prompting, as it became part of their routine. “It was created in the early 20th century in France and Italy. But tartes are much older, from medieval times.”

Yuki listens attentively as she eats piece after piece, nodding and savoring each bite as she always does.

“Did you have a good day?” Choso asks as he finishes his explanation.

“Mm-hm. Finished sending the invitations. We’re officially T-minus four months until the wedding,” she smiles before taking another bite, but she sees Choso’s nervous fidgeting and frowns. “What’s wrong? Don’t go having second thoughts on me now, baker boy. Though I suppose it’s better now than at the altar.”

“No, it’s not that,” Choso says, sighing. “It’s… It’s stupid.”

“Then tell me so I can laugh. I could use a good laugh,” she says, but at Choso’s serious glare, she chuckles and raises her hands defensively. “Just joking, baby. I would never laugh. And I doubt it’s stupid. So, tell me.”

Choso stares at her for a few seconds and licks his lips before talking.

“I read about this thing online… I think it’s called a ‘first look’ or something like that. We meet a bit before the ceremony and get a chance to see each other before you walk down the aisle. I don’t know, sounded interesting. I…” he sighs, pushing his hair away from his face. “I really don’t want to cry in front of everyone when I see you walk in. And I know I will. The thought of everyone seeing me cry makes me… I don’t even know how to explain it.”

Yuki pouts, but there’s still a smile tugging on the corner of her lips. “Choso—”

“I know you have your vision for the wedding, and if this doesn’t fit it, it’s fine, I’ll deal with it, I just thought I would suggest it and—“

Yuki shuts him up by leaning over to the side and pressing her lips against his in a gentle kiss, and he immediately kisses her back. She parts it a few seconds later and distances herself just enough to look him in the eyes and give him a little smile. “We can do the first look, baby. All I was going to say is that it’s adorable that you are looking up wedding stuff.”

“I was looking up tips and tricks on how not to cry and sweat during your wedding ceremony.”

Yuki laughs, lacing her arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss.

She won’t tell him, but she doubts there’s any tip out there that would stop him from being a blushing mess during their wedding day.

*

The day finally arrives, and the wedding is set to start at seven thirty p.m. At six-twenty, the bridal suite is a hectic mess, with the bridesmaids running from one corner to the other to get their finishing touches.

They are all wearing matching tailored, luxurious satin champagne dresses that drape fluidly through their bodies to the floor, creating a statuesque silhouette. The bodices have a draped cowl neckline, the skirts sleek with a slight flare towards the hem, and the backs are low—a hint of allure without compromising elegance.

Yuki’s bridal party consists of four bridesmaids, with Shoko, her friend from university, being her maid of honor. They didn’t go to the same university since Shoko is a doctor and not in the art world, but they met through a common friend during their college years and instantly hit it off. She's married to Utahime, her high school sweetheart, who is also attending the wedding—though she isn't in the bridal suite since she isn't a bridesmaid.

Her other bridesmaids are Yuki’s friends from work. Haruna, her boss and Director, Kanae, the Exhibition Designer, and Naka, the Conservator.

All the women, very different in demeanor, seem to be united in chaos and panic as they try to get everything in order, and it seems like something is always missing—a shoe that has been misplaced, a make-up brush that someone cannot find, and oh my God where is the bouquet.

Well, most of them. Shoko is chilling. Yuki has never seen Shoko freak out a day in her life.

Yuki, honestly, has never felt calmer in her entire life. As the hair stylist finishes putting her hair into an updo, she drinks her second glass of champagne of the day – definitely not the last one of the night, but she’s not looking to be blackout drunk in the ceremony either – and she feels like she is almost in a meditative state. She has done everything right, checked every box in her to-do list, and everything is perfect. The sound of her bridesmaids freaking out over one thing or another is just white noise.

“There we go,” her hairstylist says. “Have a look and tell me what you think.”

Her hair is swept back from her face, creating a smooth and polished crown that transitions into a cascade of arranged curls and twists. It’s a collection of large, loose curls that gather at the back of her head in a large and structured bun, each curl meticulously shaped to create a soft, voluminous arrangement like a blossoming flower.

Accentuating the hairstyle, a series of small artful braids are interlaced through the updo, their pattern intricate. Tucked within the layers of hair are subtle embellishments of tiny pearls that catch the light with every movement, and a few curls hang loose from under the updo and down the back of Yuki’s neck.

“It’s perfect,” Yuki smiles. “Okay, time to get in the dress and do the first look. Girls, stop freaking out and help me!”

Like obedient dogs, the bridesmaids snap into action and help Yuki get into her dress. It’s a breathtaking Vivienne Westwood gown, tailored to perfection to merge contemporary elegance with timeless grace.

The gown has an off-the-shoulder neckline that drapes softly across the shoulders—one strap hangs over one shoulder and the other down the forearm. The fabric is a luxurious satin that glows with an inner light, its creamy hue complementing Yuki’s complexion. The bodice accentuates her silhouette, sculpted with artful precision, with delicate folds that gather at the waist.

The lower part is tight to her body, hugging her curves, and an overskirt hangs from her waist, descending into a full, flowing skirt that promises movement with each step down the aisle. The back of the dress reveals a soft dip that displays her shoulder blades. The train, a continuation of the overskirt, spreads behind her, but not too far.

Complimenting her wedding gown, Yuki is sporting a pearl necklace from the same designer. It’s a cascading marvel of multiple strands of creamy pearls that capture and reflect the light, mirroring the satin sheen of her gown. They increase in size as they get to the center of her neck, and at the very bottom, at the focal point, sits a larger, central pearl—a statement piece.

In his suite in the old, French-style venue they rented for the wedding, Choso and his groomsmen get ready for the wedding as well, though the vibes are much calmer than in the bridal suite.

Seventeen-year-old Yuuji, his brother, is his best man. Takumi, the bread artisan from the patisserie, is one of his groomsmen. The other two, Satoru and Suguru, are old friends from the Tsuji Culinary Institute. They are married, and both work nowadays in Tokyo—Satoru is the head chef at a contemporary restaurant called Kaze Fusion Bistro, and Suguru owns and operates a prestigious sushi restaurant named Sugu Sushi Legacy.

The groomsmen are wearing matching beige three-piece suits, with well-tailored, single-breasted jackets, paired with matching waistcoats underneath to add formality and elegance. Crisp white shirts provide a subtle contrast, and matching beige ties are tucked into the waistcoats. The look is complete with beige pants and brown leather Oxford shoes, polished to perfection, as well as simple beige pocket squares.

In stark contrast to Yuki, Choso is so nervous he might as well join her bridesmaids. He’s just drinking a beer to keep his body temperature down so he doesn’t sweat and ruin his suit as he watches the clock tick and tries to participate in the conversation with his friends and brother.

His suit is off-white, but it’s anything but a traditional groom’s attire. Yuki helped him pick a few to go along with the theme, but he chose that one himself. It’s a tailored, long double-breasted jumpsuit with a wide peak lapel that puts on display his bare chest.

The jumpsuit cinches at the waist, with a thick matching fabric wrapped around it, and extends from there, flowing and cascading down to the floor like a train. Over his jumpsuit, he sports a matching blazer that is long and asymmetrical, complimenting the fabric hung from his waist. On his feet, he’s wearing brown suede heeled boots.

He’s wearing his hair loose for the day, and he can’t help but keep tugging on his roots from anxiousness.

When it’s finally time for the first look, he thinks he might have a heart attack, and he hasn’t even seen Yuki yet. She knows what he will look like, but he has no idea what she will look like. He barely knows what the venue looks like. The only thing he knows is that she will look stunning, that he will cry, and that they are getting married tonight.

It still might be a wild dream, he still might be dreaming since she first walked into the bakery and talked to him when he was behind the register, because there’s no way this is all real.

He walks to the back of the building, where they have planned to meet. The only other person there is the wedding planner, who instructs him to turn to face the other way when Yuki is coming and then leaves the two of them alone.

Choso can feel his heart beating in his throat as he waits for her, lacing his hands in front of him and willingly stopping himself from picking at his painted nails. He can hear her heels clinking on the ground, and he takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly and trying to calm down his racing heartbeat.

A few seconds later, her stepping comes to a stop, and he feels her gentle tapping on his shoulder—his cue to turn around. Taking another deep breath, he does it, and he’s immediately starstruck.

“Oh my God, Yuki, you look so beautiful,” Choso says with a choked-out breath, tears immediately filling up his eyes as he takes her in.

Her. Dressed in all white. A bride. His bride.

It’s not a dream. It’s really happening. The love of his life. He’s gonna marry the love of his life.

Tears roll down his face as the realization hits him, and he’s openly sobbing as Yuki pouts and tears sting her eyes as well.

“You look so handsome too, baby,” she says before pulling him into a hug and wrapping her arms around his neck, careful not to mark his pristine off-white suit with her makeup.

He sniffles, his tears falling on her shoulder. God, she’s so much taller in heels, even if his boots are heeled as well. There goes any chance of him dipping her in his arms for the first kiss—not that he planned on doing that anyway.

“You’re making me cry, too, and I just spent two hours getting my make-up done, Choso,” Yuki sniffles as well with a chuckle.

They are just so overwhelmed, so full of love for each other, so enamored by the road they took to get where they are now. Sure, they hadn’t been dating for long before Choso popped the question, but Choso had been waiting for fourteen years to ask it. Had the ring saved for over a decade, hoping but never knowing if he would run into Yuki again.

Yet fate brought them back together. Made Yuki move to the same neighborhood where Choso had opened his bakery just a year before. Out of all places in all cities in all countries, she chose to walk down that street that day, and she chose to walk into his bakery, even after being assaulted by videos of horny bakers all day on social media.

Even if Choso had been sick that day, she might not have returned so soon to the patisserie. She kept coming back for him. And if he wasn’t short-staffed on that particular Monday, he might’ve never noticed her watching him work.

Little coincidences brought them together, weaving the threads of fate to lead them to the back of the building where they would soon get married, where they were now hugging each other and crying as they first saw one another in their full wedding gear, ready to be wed.

Choso pulled back with a sniffle and kissed Yuki, tasting the saltiness from both of their tears on their lips. “I love you so, so much.”

“I love you more, baker boy,” Yuki whispered against his lips with a smile.

He smiled back. “I think that’s impossible.”

With the tears out of the way, Yuki got her makeup retouched, and they took some pictures before the wedding started. It was the first time they got to see the venue in all its glory after it had been getting prepared the entire day.

The venue itself was reminiscent of a historic European mansion—a rare find in Tokyo. The altar area is set against this grand architectural structure; high ceilings and intricate stonework that match Yuki’s monochromatic palette of white to create a timeless ambiance. She thought of everything, and it takes Choso’s breath away.

The aisle is lined with tall, slender candles in ornate brass holders, casting a soft, golden glow that reflects off the polished marble floor. The path leads to an altar framed by cascading white floral arrangements, featuring peonies, hydrangeas, and roses. The lush arrangements spill over ornate pedestals on either side of the altar.

The altar itself is a minimal yet impressive structure, draped with delicate white silk and adorned with cascading floral garlands that trail to the floor. Behind the altar, a large archway features intricate carvings, subtly illuminated by hidden lighting that enhances the detailed craftsmanship.

The wedding reception is held in a hall with grand archways and large chandeliers hanging from the soaring ceiling. An abundance of candles softly and warmly lights up the room. Long tables draped in crisp white linens stretch across the hall, adorned with an array of white floral arrangements like the altar. Crystal glassware and silver cutlery rest on elegant white china edged with a delicate gold trim, and each table features tall cylindrical candle holders that cast a soft glow.

The dessert table is featured in the back, and Choso has prepared all the delicacies he once made, especially for Yuki, but en masse. The table is full of black currant licorice religiouses , lemon-blueberry meringue cheesecakes, citrus slice black and white operas, caramel miss croisettes, and Mont Blanc Tartes, as well as all the bakery’s best sellers—éclairs, tartelettes, mirror cakes and swiss rolls.

The cake, also Choso’s creation, is displayed prominently on a table adorned with cascading floral arrangements and surrounded by candles. The cake itself is a sculptural masterpiece of seven layers.

From its base to the top, Choso manipulated the fondant to create a cascade of edible fabric-like folds reminiscent of couture gowns. These fondant ruffles are arranged with an organic fluidity, and the ripples on them create shadows and highlights that give the cake a dynamic and ethereal look. Amongst the folds are delicate sugar flowers, each petal handcrafted and applied with the surgical precision that lets Yuki know that Choso spent days pouring his heart and soul into the creation and decoration of the cake.

“Wow, Yuki,” Choso says, his hand resting on her waist as he looks around the reception hall. “I know I was… there while you planned everything, but you really planned everything. It looks incredible.”

“Thank you, baby,” Yuki smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, and he smiles back between kisses. “The cake is beautiful. And I know it will be delicious, too. And you made all the desserts you’ve made for me before!”

“Now everyone gets to eat them. Well, at least once in their lives. You always get to eat them."

They smile and share one last kiss before parting ways until the ceremony starts. The first look helps tons, but Choso is still nervous and emotional when he walks in, accompanied by his mother, Keiko, all the way to the altar. Yuuji is already waiting for him there, and so is the rest of the bridal party. He can see Megumi, Yuuji’s boyfriend, giving the pink-haired boy a proud smile as Choso walks down the aisle.

He waits for Yuki then, and he hopes the first look is enough for him to manage to hold back his tears when he sees her.

It barely is. When the live orchestra starts playing Turning Page by Sleeping At Last, Choso is reminded of the lyrics before the doors open to reveal Yuki.

I've waited a hundred years

But I'd wait a million more for you

He would. He absolutely would. He would’ve kept that ring until the end of his life if he had to. And when the doors open and Yuki appears in the archway, the sound of the instrumental version of their favorite song playing in the background, he knows for certain that he would wait a thousand millennia for her.

She has a big smile as she walks down the aisle with her father, carrying a bouquet of white lillies, and people are gasping at her beauty and crying at the emotional moment, but she only looks at Choso, and Choso only looks at her, with the same smile on his face. Even in the crowded room full of friends and family, it’s like it’s just the two of them and the beautiful song playing on a Bluetooth speaker.

When she reaches the altar, Choso shakes hands with Takumi, Yuki’s father.

“Take care of her, son,” Takumi tells Choso, giving him a light tap on the back as he wipes his own tears.

“Always, sir.”

Yuki smiles at the exchange, and Choso turns to her with his own soft smile.

“I know I told you already, but you look beautiful,” he whispers it to her as he takes her hand, intertwining their fingers as they turn to the officiant.

“And you still look dashingly handsome,” she whispers back.

The ceremony goes by quickly, and soon it’s time for the water ceremony, something they read about online and found appealing. Supposedly to bring reality and emotion to the event and express the union of two people who are completely dedicated to making the marriage work and be happy, the water ceremony starts with the officiant starts by wetting both Choso and Yuki’s hands and instructing them to wash each other’s hands over a glass bowl as a symbol of the attention and care they will have for each other in their marriage.

And then it’s time for the vows. By tradition and their own preference, Choso goes first. His hands are shaky and sweating, mixed with the water from the previous ceremony, and he’s glad the vows are printed into cardboard and won’t smudge. Either way, he has rehearsed this enough times to remember them by heart.

“Yuki, I told you when I proposed that I’m not the best with words, and I’ll tell everyone now, to those that don’t know it already, that I’m not the best with crowds either, so I’ll keep this short,” he says, earning a few ‘aw’s and chuckles from the guests. “I’ve loved you since we were twelve, and that hasn’t changed. I went to Osaka looking for you, and you escaped by this much,” he pinches his index and thumb together. “And I thought I would never see you again. But I still kept the ring I bought for you in middle school, hoping our paths would cross again. Maybe they would when we were gray and old. It wouldn’t matter to me—I would still marry you then. But imagine my shock when you walked into my bakery on a random Monday afternoon and told me you had been coming all these days and watching me bake, and somehow, I hadn’t noticed that the love of my life was sitting just a few inches away from me for a week straight.”

Yuki smiles tenderly at his words, and Choso takes a deep breath before continuing.

“Yuki, I vow to be by your side no matter what. If it’s a good or a bad day. If you’re in a cheerful mood or when you want to kill anyone that comes your way. I vow to always trust you know best because you usually do,” he says, earning a laugh from Yuki and the crowd. “I vow to make you meals when you are busy putting together an exhibition so you don’t starve yourself. I vow to always bring you a pastry after I come home from work and to bake you one on our days off. I vow to tell you the stories behind each pastry like I always do. Like I’ve told you before, all my pastries are yours, Yuki. I love you.”

Yuki is the one holding back tears then, and she wants to break all tradition and kiss him then and there. She has to dab a paper tissue against the corner of her eyes so she won’t cry and ruin her makeup—again—before getting her vows from the officiant and taking a deep breath.

“Choso, I have few regrets in my life, but perhaps the biggest one is not noticing the dark-haired boy in my middle school class who had a crush on me,” she says with a big smile, making him chuckle. “And maybe I should say that I regret moving to Osaka and then moving to Tokyo to go to university, because it caused us to not meet, but I don’t. I think things have a way of working the way they are supposed to. It would’ve been nice to know you and be with you for all those years, but I’m just happy we are together now. So, so happy. You have no idea how happy you make me, baby.

“Seeing you when you come back from work is the highlight of my day. Spending our days off together, whether it’s in France or on our couch, are the best times of my life,” she smiles tenderly, and Choso is on the verge of tears yet again. “I love doing stuff with you. Love being by your side. And I’m going to love growing old with you. I know you will still be telling me the stories behind all the pastries in the world even when we are eighty and you are balding and I still have my beautiful blonde hair,” she says.

Choso and the guests laugh at her words, and Choso is dabbing a tissue against the corner of his eyes like she was doing earlier so he won’t cry.

“I vow to always listen to those stories because I love listening to them. I vow to always be by your side when you’re stuck in an awkward conversation, and you need a social buffer. I vow to try all the pastries you make specially for me. I vow to always follow your rules in the kitchen, as long as you follow mine everywhere else. And I vow to always be the girl you fell in love with when you were twelve. I love you so, so much, baker boy.”

Choso sniffles, a stray tear escaping his best efforts to keep them at bay, and he quickly wipes it away. Yuki smiles and wipes the remaining of it with her thumb, as he whispers to her, “I love you more.”

“I think that’s impossible,” she whispers back with a beaming smile, so huge that it crinkles her nose and squeezes her eyes.

Neither of them can really retell what happens next in the ceremony—they just want to kiss each other so badly. They are basically rushing as they slide the rings into each other’s fingers, and when the officiant finally says, ‘You may kiss the bride,’ Yuki holds Choso’s face in her hands whilst he goes to her waist, and they kiss.

It’s a tame kiss because they are in front of so many people, all cheering for them now, but it’s still a kiss they wanted to share since Yuki first walked down the aisle. It lasts a few seconds too long, just because they are that desperate for one another.

And then they part their kiss. Their first kiss as husband and wife. The first of many, but still the first.

It’s time for the ceremony, and after their first dance—a simple routine because Choso couldn’t bear to do anything more than the bare minimum, and even that was making him sweat buckets and blush like a tomato—, they do the rounds saying hi to everyone.

Yuki immediately goes to the dancefloor with her bridesmaids and whoever else wants to tag along when they are done. Choso makes it his mission to down as many champagne flutes and shots of alcohol as he can as fast as he can so he might have the liquid courage to join her.

And it works. He is positively drunk, but so is she as she drinks cocktail after cocktail, champagne flute after champagne flute, shot after shot, all while dancing with her friends and family, and she is ecstatic that Choso joined them, free of any shame or inhibitions.

They dance the night away and cut the cake, revealing the rose-water-infused sponge cake and vibrant raspberry cream on the inside, a surprisingly beautiful and strikingly delicious flavor that Choso took weeks to decide on and perfect.

And it is back to dancing. At this point, Yuki’s heels and overskirt are long gone, and she is barefooted on the dancefloor when Choso drags her away into one of the hallways that led to the restrooms, where it is empty and somewhat quiet.

She smiles widely and lets herself be dragged away by him, holding onto her dress so she won’t trip on it.

“What is it?” she asks as they get to the hallway, separated from the reception hall by a heavy door.

Choso is also sporting a wide grin, and he holds Yuki’s face with both his hands before kissing her, desperate and needy.

“You’re my wife,” he whispers against her lips after kissing her, making her chuckle and open her eyes to look at him.

“And you’re my husband,” she whispers back, her hands holding into the lapels of his blazer.

“This is crazy,” Choso says. “This night is fucking crazy.”

Yuki laughs, throwing her head back. “You’re so drunk, baby. Makes sense. So am I. I haven’t eaten a single thing, just been dancing the entire time.”

“I don’t even have that excuse. I just got drunk to catch up with you,” he says, still cradling her face in his hands.

She smiles at him, and she’s leaning to kiss him again when the door opens, and they get interrupted by Emiko, the fifty-year-old baker who works for Choso, who was probably looking for the restroom.

“Oh my goodness, I’m sorry, I didn’t see anything!” Emiko immediately turns around and opens the door again.

“You didn’t see anything because nothing was happening!” Yuki says with a laugh, and Choso laughs as well. She turns back to him with a smile. “Come on, let’s go back. We’ve got all fourteen days of our honeymoon to sneak around and get caught making out like teenagers.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Choso gives her a little smile.

Yuki laughs once more. “God, you’re wasted. I’m gonna get you drunk every day in Paris and Copenhagen.”

*

Paris is beautiful, if not a little filthy. But Yuki loves it. They are spending ten days there and four in Copenhagen, and Yuki is smitten by the city of love and lights. Just as much as she is smitten by her husband, who takes her on the best tours of his favorite patisseries during the day and lets her torture him to no end during the night.

He takes her that day to the Dalloyau, where the Opera cake was created, and to the Frascati, where the religieuse was. On that specific night, they go out for dinner near their hotel, and they decide to go to the bar next door, where there is live entertainment of bands and singers on rotation all night. The decision is made after a shared bottle of wine, and both are already tipsy as they walk into the bar, ordering themselves a few shots of tequila and other glasses of wine.

Well, it is their honeymoon. If there is a time to get drunk and stupid, it is now.

They down the shots, one after another, and drink their wine until both are positively drunk—and they keep drinking. They were sitting on stools next to a high table when they first arrived, but as they got more drunk and the music got better, they stood up to cheer the singer and band and never sat down again.

Yuki is dancing slowly to the music, and Choso is watching her, his brain short-circuiting from how hot she is and how drunk he is. Her outfit isn’t making things any easier on him. She’s wearing a cropped bomber jacket in a burgundy hue, and under there is a white crop top that hugs her curves and exposes her midriff.

She pairs it with a high-waisted mini, very mini skirt—it might as well be a belt—in a deep navy tone that accentuates Yuki’s long, defined legs, further elongated by a pair of sleek, black knee-high boots. There’s a thin navy blue fabric wrapped around her neck like a scarf, as well as a pearl necklace and small silver hoop earrings.

Choso is openly staring and drooling, which he supposes is okay since she’s his wife. A term that is still crazy to say and think about. She looks at him with a sly smile as she dances, swirling her hips around and driving him insane. The music is just white noise in his mind, as all he can think about is how much he wants her right now.

Too drunk to stop himself, he wanders to Yuki’s side of the table, standing behind her, his hands tracing her sides from her ribcage, down her waist, and to her hips, where he squeezes. She smiles, peeking over her shoulder to look back at him, and swirls her hips once more, pressing her ass against his front. He exhales shakily, one of his hands going to her stomach and pressing her further against him.

He shouldn’t, it’s only making his situation worse, but he can’t help himself. His hands keep roaming through her body, squeezing and pressing her more against him, and all he wants to do is to take her then and there.

At least the bar is dimly lit, and their table is at a somewhat hidden corner. He would have to thank the rude hostess who wanted to hide the tourists from the rest of the crowd later.

She keeps dancing and moving her butt against him, and Choso can’t help the boner growing in his pants that is now pressing against her and making her giggle in her drunk state.

“You’re driving me crazy,” Choso whispers in Yuki’s ear, his voice hoarse.

She smirks, looking back at him. “Yeah? What are you going to do about it?”

To punctuate her question, she rubs her ass once more against his boner, and Choso grunts, stepping away and in front of her and grabbing her by the wrist as he walks away from the table. Yuki drunkenly giggles as Choso cuts his way through the crowd and towards the restrooms.

Much like in their wedding, Choso and Yuki are alone again in an empty hallway, but much unlike in their wedding, the second they are alone, Choso traps Yuki between a wall and his body, one of his hands going to the back of her neck to bring her into a fiery kiss.

As soon as she kisses him back—which is immediately—his hand travels down to the front of her throat and to her tits, squeezing one of them roughly. His other hand goes to her ass, barely covered by that piece of fabric she dares call a skirt, squeezing it as well.

Yuki moans lowly into his mouth when Choso presses his thumb against her nipple, poking out of her bra and shirt, and her hands go to his neck and chest.

She had never seen Choso so handsy and desperate, especially not in public, but she wasn’t going to complain, not when his boner was rubbing against her thigh, and he was making all sorts of delicious and needy noises, not when it felt so good to have him touch her so roughly when they could get caught at any time.

Choso seems less than worried about that, not a single thought about the very possible reality of someone coming in to go to the restroom and finding two tourists making out against a wall. He’s even less worried when his hand goes from her ass down her bare thigh and traces up the skin of her inner thigh with his fingertips until his hand is under her skirt.

Unceremoniously, Choso uses one of his feet to kick Yuki’s apart and spread her legs for him, making her smirk in between kisses at the delicious effect that alcohol seems to have on him.

His fingers are anything but gentle as he trails up even further until his fingers meet the lacy fabric of Yuki’s panties. At the feeling of her dampness, he groans against her lips and quickly moves the flimsy fabric to the side, his free hand tugging on her hair so he can kiss and suck on her neck.

She’s dripping wet on his fingers, and he slides one inside her just to coat it with her slick before pressing and rubbing it against her clit. Yuki’s moans are choked up as she tries to stay silent and fails, and Choso bites and sucks on the sensitive skin of her neck and collarbone, leaving blooming red marks in his wake.

“God, Choso,” Yuki lowly hums, biting her bottom lip to contain her moans.

His fingers work fast and hard against her clit, drawing semi-circles as she holds onto his shoulders and fists the material of his t-shirt to anchor herself.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet,” he rasps, the desire and need to fuck her there in the hallway to the restrooms becoming more and more prominent by the second.

He slides a finger inside her, and Yuki moans unrestrainedly. If it weren’t for the music blasting outside the hallway, someone would probably have heard it. Hell, someone probably did hear it anyway.

His thumb is circling her clit, and his finger is sliding in and out of her, curling to press on her sweet spot and making her whimper and her knees buckle. He increases the pace more and more, and Yuki throws her head back and against the wall as she feels her orgasm getting closer.

“Fuck, yes, Choso, that—that’s it,” she moans, and he obliges, continuing his movements.

He lifts his head from her collarbone to her face, taking her lips once more and tracing his tongue through her bottom lip. As their tongues meet in a passionate clash, Yuki lets out a sharp gasp and stills her movements, her hands gripping Choso’s shoulders tighter.

He feels her walls spasm around his finger, and he slows down his movements, removing his thumb from her clit but continuing to move his middle finger inside of her as she cums. She finally breathes again and lets out a low, shaky moan as Choso slides his finger out of her cunt.

But he’s not done, not even close, and he doesn’t give her a second to breathe before kissing her again, and she is still panting for air as she kisses him back. Yuki’s hands trail lower down his chest and abdomen, but they are interrupted by the sound of someone opening the door to the hallway they are in.

Choso and Yuki quickly separate, and Yuki adjusts her skirt when someone steps into the hallway. It’s a woman, probably in her forties, who takes one glance at them, clicks her tongue in disapproval, and murmurs something in French that neither Choso nor Yuki could ever decipher.

As the woman goes into the restroom, they both look at each other, and in another drunk feat, they start to laugh at the situation and how much worse it would’ve been if the woman had walked in a few minutes earlier when Choso was still fingering Yuki.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Yuki says with a sly smile. Her cheeks are flushed, and her hair is a bit of a mess, not to mention her smeared lipstick—luckily, she had learned at the beginning of the honeymoon that it was safer to go for not-so-bold colors that would easily ruin hers and Choso’s face.

Choso is more than ready to get back to the hotel, and he tries to hide his boner when he grabs his leather jacket from their table, but it’s a feeble attempt at best. Thankfully, the hotel is only a five-minute walk from the bar, and soon Yuki is sliding the keycard into the slot to open the door.

As soon as it closes behind Choso, he’s back at it, groping and squeezing every inch of her body, still covered by her clothes, as he kisses her. Yuki isn’t far behind, tossing her handbag away and taking off her jacket before taking his off as well without parting their kiss for a second.

He pulls down her white tank top so hard it almost rips, putting her baby pink bralette-covered tits on display. The straps are straining on her shoulders, and he still does the same to her bralette, her tits jumping out when he pulls the fabric of the cups down.

Choso is once again trapping Yuki against a wall, and he bends down slightly to take one of her nipples in his mouth. He swirls his tongue around it, tracing her areola, before flicking it and making Yuki moan. His hand massages her other tit, tugging and squeezing her other nipple as he does the same with his mouth.

His hands dip down to her ass, and he stands back up as he squeezes it, kissing her again.

“This fucking skirt,” he growls as he grabs the hem of it and pulls it up, bunching it on Yuki’s waist. “You know what you do to me when you wear stuff like that.”

“Yeah?” Yuki smiles against his lips, and her tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip. “Let me make it up to you, then. I won’t torture you tonight, you’ve been through enough,” she palms the bulge on his pants, making him hiss and her giggle. “Promise.”

Not one to ever deny Yuki’s blowjobs, especially not as drunk and desperate for her as Choso is, he nods, making her smile and push him away by his chest slightly, just enough so she could run her hands through his body, and tug on his black t-shirt. He takes it off quickly, tossing it away into a corner of the hotel suite, and she kisses him again.

She undoes his pants quickly, also as desperate for him as he is for her, but just better at hiding it—plus, she did get to cum on his fingers not too long ago. Pulling it down along with his boxer briefs, his cock bounces free as his pants and underwear fall bunched at his feet. He kicks his shoes off along with the clothes, his tongue intertwining with Yuki’s as he lowers the straps of both her tank top and her bra quickly.

He takes the top off her body and unclasps her bra, letting it fall to the floor between them. Before he can reach for her skirt, still bunched around her waist, Yuki separates their kiss and trails her lips down to his jaw, neck, and clavicle.

Her hand goes down his chest and abs to his cock, wrapping her fingers around it and pumping it slowly. Choso’s breathing is heavy as Yuki gets down to her knees, trailing kisses and hickeys down his torso.

He really hopes she is planning on keeping her promise not to torture him because he doesn’t feel like he can take it tonight. He needs her. He looks down at her, and she gives him a small smile before leaning in and licking a stripe from the base of his cock to the very tip, where she swirled her tongue around, tasting his precum.

“Fuck,” he mutters as she takes the tip of his cock into her mouth, still massaging it with her tongue in languid movements. He is too drunk, and the feeling of Yuki’s lips enveloping him is too good.

His hips start moving on their own accord, making her take more of his cock in her mouth. Yuki doesn’t complain, only opening her lips further to accommodate him and hollowing her cheeks as her tongue pressed on his underside.

“Fuck, Yuki, fuck—“ he grabs her hair to keep her in place while he drives his cock in and out of her mouth, going deeper each time.

He keeps hitting the back of her throat, but Yuki doesn’t move or complain, only looking up at him with teary eyes and letting him use her mouth as he pleases. She did tease him a lot during the day, he had earned it.

“Oh, God, fuck,” he grunts when his cock slides down with a particularly hard thrust, and her nose is pressing against his pubic bone. Yuki chokes around him but doesn’t try to get off, and he pulls her head back after a few seconds, making her gasp for air briefly.

He thrusts into her mouth again, sliding down her throat once more and moaning hoarsely at the feeling. Each time he lets go of her so she can breathe, only to bring her down into his cock once more, making her gag and watching the spit dribble from her mouth into her tits.

He does it enough times that he feels on the brink of his orgasm once Yuki takes his cock down her throat again, and when she swallows, the movement of her contracting her throat around him is enough to send him over the edge and make him cum. He holds her tight by the hair as he spurts his cum down her throat, and she has no option other than to swallow—not that she was planning on doing anything different either.

He lets go of Yuki’s hair when he’s done coming, and she pulls back immediately, gasping for air and coughing a bit. Choso is worried that he went too hard for a second, but when she wipes her chin with the back of her hand and looks up at him with a sly smile, he knows she’s fine.

Choso still isn’t done, not even near that, so he bends his knees slightly to pick her up, and she laces her arms around his neck and her legs around his back as he walks both of them to the bedroom that is connected to the living room in their hotel suite. He lays her on the bed and sits back on his shins to remove her boots and then her skirt.

Yuki is left in her black lacy thong, and the knowledge that she was wearing something so small and thin throughout dinner and their stay at the bar only drives Choso more insane in his inebriated state.

He immediately removes the small piece of fabric from her body, leaving her completely naked like him. He leans down, kissing, biting, and sucking on her skin, red marks all over her neck and chest appearing as he treats the skin roughly with his lips and teeth.

Choso trails his hand down as he sucks on one of her nipples, meeting her wet cunt and easily sliding his index finger inside. Yuki moans as he slides the finger in and out of her, his movements not gentle in the slightest. He adds his middle finger in, both curling and pressing against her g-spot, while his thumb caresses her clit.

He scoots further down in bed until his torso is against it, and his face is on eye-level with her cunt, and he replaces his thumb with his tongue against her clit. His free arm wraps around one of her thighs, leaving her wide open for him to feast on.

“Oh my God, Choso,” Yuki moans, grabbing Choso’s hair and tugging on it, pressing his face further against her cunt.

His tongue is relentless against her clit, moving furiously as his fingers fuck her cunt roughly—the way he knows she likes it. Her moans are unrestrained and high-pitched the harder he goes, and her curses are debauched and breathy as they leave her lips. “Fuck, fuck, yes, Choso, fuck…”

Sucking and licking her engorged clit, it doesn’t take long for Yuki’s drunk orgasm to crash over her as she lets out a loud moan, her fingers fisting Choso’s hair and the bedsheets.

Choso feels her contracting around his fingers, her slick dripping down his hand and her ass. It becomes his mission for the night—to make Yuki cum so much that she forgets her own name.

“Fuck, you’re gripping my fingers… Fuck, Yuki,” Choso rasps before diving in with his tongue again against her still throbbing clit.

Yuki gasps loudly at the feeling of his tongue against her very sensitive clit, the sensation painful and pleasant, both at the same time. Her legs threaten to close, but Choso keeps an iron grip on one of her thighs, and his tongue is back at the same speed it was before against her, making her squirm and let out pained moans as his fingers start fucking her again.

She has barely stopped pulsing around his fingers when she cums again with a strangled moan—a silent plea for some time out.

Choso obliges, but only slightly. With the sound of her moans and her body reacting to him, it takes no time for his cock to get hard again, and he’s done with the foreplay. He needs to be inside her, to feel her tight warmth around him, to feel her pulsing and stretching with his movements.

With a brisk movement, he flips Yuki, so her stomach is against the bed, making her let out a small yelp of surprise. She has never seen Choso so desperate and needy for her, so handsy and so proactive. Sure, he had been desperate to cum plenty of times before, but it was usually her in charge, dictating every move.

She doesn’t mind taking the backseat for the night. Not at all. She knows he will have a post-nut clarity moment in the morning and apologize for going so rough on her, and she will tell him that she loved it. She has no doubts about it—drunk Choso is way more direct about his needs and domineering in bed than sober Choso could ever phantom being.

He pulls her up by her hips so she’s on her knees with her ass stuck in the air, and Yuki balances on her arms to arch her back even more for him.

Transfixed by her glistening cunt, he only needs to pump his cock a few times before aligning it with her entrance and pushing in, feeling inch by inch get swallowed by her warmth. Yuki moans and whimpers and bites down on her bottom lip with her eyebrows furrowed, feeling herself getting spread open by Choso’s cock.

“Oh, fuck, Choso— fuck —“ Yuki moans as he bottoms out with a sharp thrust, and he exhales shakily, gripping her ass cheeks to anchor himself to reality because her tight, wet cunt is too good to be real.

“God, Yuki, you feel so fucking good,” he rasps, starting to move slowly, pulling himself nearly completely out of her, and watching her cunt spread to accommodate him when he pushes in.

He’s spreading her ass cheeks apart to watch it and gripping them for dear life as he picks up some speed, focusing more on going deeper and deeper than jackhammering his hips, with his balls hitting her still-sensitive clit with each thrust of his. Each thrust hits all the right spots and makes Yuki see stars as she moans and whimpers from the pleasure and pain.

Yuki is a moaning mess the deeper and faster he goes, and he leans forward slightly and sneaks a hand from her ass cheek around her front to her clit. Yuki’s moans become more high-pitched as he rubs her clit with his index and middle fingers, speeding up his thrusts, pounding into her with no gentleness. It was hard, it was depraved, and they were both loving it.

“F-Fuck, baby, you’re fucking me so good, k-keep going, fuck,“ Yuki curses, and it only spurs him on.

She starts moving her hips, too, pushing against his thrusts. Each time he slams inside her, his hips strikes her ass, and he watches her butt ripple with the movement. It’s driving him insane, and he picks up the speed of his fingers, making her moan and curse louder.

“Oh, fuck, Choso—“ Yuki gasps as she comes undone on his cock.

Her vision grows white from all the pleasure, and her hips stutter against his. The involuntary contracting and relaxing of her cunt is a feeling too good to be described, especially by Choso’s drunk mind. He throws his head back, moaning too, but continues to fuck her through her orgasm.

As he looks to the side, he sees the pile of sex toys Yuki got on her bridal shower from her friends from work, all stuff they had used earlier in the day—thank God they woke up too late for housekeeping, and the hotel didn’t try to clean up after they left. The small collection has handcuffs and blindfolds, both used on Choso earlier, along with a few vibrators and anal plugs.

He reaches for the wand, the one Yuki used earlier, and seemed to enjoy it plenty. She’s still recovering from her orgasm when she hears the wand start buzzing, and her head immediately shoots back to see Choso fiddling with the controls for the speed, a task that seems way too complicated for his drunk mind.

When he somewhat understands the mechanisms of the sex toy, he’s able to return his spine to its upright position and still get the vibrating head of the wand, still on the lowest setting, against Yuki’s clit.

“What are you—Ha, Choso, fuck, that’s too— ugnh —too much,” she whimpers, and he takes the wand away from her throbbing clit immediately.

“Red?” Choso asks her.

After their first date and Yuki’s enjoyment of the not-so-simple things in life and sex, they had a conversation about safe words. Red means full stop, yellow means slow down, and green means go. The moment to use them still hadn’t arrived, but maybe this was it.

Yuki looks back at him from her shoulder with a sly smile. “All green, baby.”

Choso chuckles lowly and shakes his head, taking the wand to her clit once more. With the wand’s long handle, it was easier for him to continue to tease Yuki’s clit and also maintain a steady pace with his hips.

Yuki was spilling curses and moans as Choso increased the speed of the vibrator and his thrusts. Pumping into her faster and harder, with the vibration of the wand against her clit and how sensitive she still was over her last orgasm, Yuki quickly cums again, screaming out so loudly that they would probably get a visit from the hotel manager for a wellness check.

Choso lowers the speed of the wand to its minimum, but it’s still too much. Yuki is still panting and rolling her hips around in an instinctive way to get away from it, and Choso has his other hand firmly holding her in place by her hip.

As soon as she comes out from her high and stops milking Choso’s cock, he starts increasing the speed on the wand once more ever-so-slightly. Yuki has tears prickling the corner of her eyes at this point, but it still feels amazing. Painful, but amazing.

“God, Choso,” Yuki whines at the overstimulation.

It’s torture for Choso as well, and he supposes she has gotten him so used to the edging that now he’s doing it to himself because every time Yuki cums, and her cunt contracts around him, all he wants to do is cum as well.

But he wants to savor the moment as much as he can, watching Yuki go from her usual domineering state to a submissive one. That’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that only he gets to experience now because she is his wife.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot, Yuki,” he breathes out, his free hand smacking her ass and making her moan louder and swirl her hips for him.

His hips pick up some speed as well when he turns the vibrator to the maximum setting, and all you can hear is the sound of skin slapping skin, the buzzing of the wand, and their lewd moans.

It doesn’t take long for her to cum again, and, this time, when she does, she collapses with her stomach to the bed, her body shivering and her arms too weak to hold herself up anymore. Choso doesn’t manage to hold her hips either, so she’s fully laying down in bed, with the wand pinned under her and against her clit at maximum speed.

Choso leans over her body, holding himself up with one hand on each side of her, her legs shut between his. It only makes her tighter, and he can feel the vibrations of the wand, too. Yuki’s arms are spread out in front of her as he fucks her mercilessly, and with the vibrator on her clit, she can barely tell when an orgasm is starting and when another is ending.

It’s just an unending stream of pleasure and pain, combined with Choso’s animalistic thrusts that are now angled just right. She can barely form a cohesive sentence, and she has no idea how many times she has cummed already in that position—she can only feel another orgasm approaching as Choso pounded the shit out of her and the vibrator stays snug against her clit.

When she cums again, she cries out, “Enough, Choso—please—y-yellow.”

He immediately stops fucking her and takes the wand out from under her, turning it off and tossing it to the side.

Her body is limp as he turns her around, her back against the bed now, and he kisses her jaw, neck, and cheeks. She gives him a weak smile and wraps her legs around his back.

“Keep going,” she says, her voice husky. “Just leave my clit alone for now.”

Choso nods, angling his cock against her entrance and thrusting in—no prep or slow penetration needed this time. Yuki moans at the intrusion, and Choso falls into a much calmer and slower pace than before. But he’s getting desperate. Each time Yuki came, he wanted to cum with her, but he held himself back—no small feat for someone who is so drunk they can barely walk in a straight line.

“Fuck, Yuki,” he kisses her neck, sucking and biting on the already bruised skin.

His hands go to her, side by side on her head, and he intertwines their fingers as he picks up the pace, the sound of skin smacking skin once again filling up the room as he fucks her faster and harder, the delicious sounds coming out of Yuki’s lips spurring him on and jerk on his movements.

“J-Jesus fucking Christ, Choso,” Yuki moans, feeling herself nearing another orgasm approaching with how good he is filling her up and how sensitive she already is. “K-Keep going, Choso, f-fuck.”

He keeps going, jackhammering his hips and fucking her mercilessly, his hands holding hers tighter. Their eyes are connected, and Yuki could swear she had never seen her husband with such a feral gaze—it only turned her on more.

Her eyebrows furrow, and her lips fall open in a silent scream as she cums, and the fluttering of her walls is enough to make him—finally—cum as well. Her nails dig into the back of his hand as she cums, her back arching and her toes curling. Choso gives one final, powerful thrust before spilling his semen inside her, making her hum pleasantly at the feeling of getting pumped full of his cum.

Their breathing is a mess as they both come out of their high, but Choso still kisses Yuki’s forehead before taking her lips in a deep and passionate kiss, their tongues intertwining like their fingers. When he pulls away, it’s to roll off her body before he crushes her, but he immediately opens his arms, lying sideways on the bed. Yuki gives him a weak smile and scoots closer to him, lying her head on the crook of his neck and her hand on his chest.

“I love you,” Choso says, almost in a whisper.

“Mm, I love you, too, baby,” Yuki replies, apparently still too fucked out of her mind to remember their little game of ‘love you more’ and ‘that’s impossible’.

Choso’s arm lays on her waist, and his fingers draw absent-minded patterns on her back. He is nearly falling asleep when Yuki speaks up.

“Choso?”

“Mm?” his eyes are still falling shut.

“I’m hungry. We didn’t eat dessert at the restaurant,” Yuki complains, and he opens his eyes to chuckle at her pouting face.

It’s true; they were really full from the appetizers and main courses to order dessert, and Choso has more or less trained Yuki to expect a pastry by the end of the day.

He pushes back a strand of her hair off her face and behind her ear. “I bought an extra strawberry Paris Brest for you earlier today. I’ll go grab it from the mini-fridge.”

Yuki smiles—a big, wide, enamored smile. “You’re the best husband ever. Will you tell me the whole story behind it as well?”

Choso supposed she was better at pretending he didn’t exist and being more professional than he was. And he should be better about it, really, because they had been apart for almost a year by then.

The year before, 2011, Hitomi found the letters Yuki wrote Choso when she first moved to Sapporo. It had never crossed Choso’s mind to get rid of them, even if he never dared to read them again. Safe to say that Hitomi wasn’t happy to find out that the friend from his childhood that he had been talking to wasn’t just a friend, but someone who he had loved very deeply. That they even had a matching tattoo together—Choso always said it was just the coordinates to the street he grew up in. Not a lie, but not the entire truth either.

That, combined with the fact that Choso was always glued to his phone, smiling at it, and his unwillingness to commit to a future with Hitomi, was enough for her to part their ways. You were going to get married to her, weren’t you?, Hitomi asked a year ago. But you won’t get married to me.

Choso didn’t want to break up with Hitomi, but she wasn’t wrong. He had every intention of marrying Yuki when they were teenagers. But that’s because they were teenagers—or at least that’s what he told himself and what he told Hitomi. It didn’t help his case a lot, and she was still set in the ultimatum: it was marriage or nothing. It was her or Yuki.

He chose nothing. He chose Yuki.

He didn’t regret it, per se. He didn’t want to get married yet, he knew that for sure. He knew that most people his age were getting married already, but he didn’t feel ready yet. He didn’t think that had to do with Hitomi but with himself. He would probably marry her when the right moment came along.

And he wasn’t willing to give up on his friendship with Yuki. He tried to reason with Hitomi that that’s all that it was—a friendship. Yuki also had a boyfriend at the time, and whatever they had stayed in the past.

He could barely convince himself, and he definitely didn’t convince Hitomi.

Either way, it was almost a year ago at that point, and he should act as professionally as she did. Pretending they were never together in the first place.

Despite the bar buzzing with loud conversations and music, Choso still felt alone and cold inside. He felt a tug that had become something of almost second nature to him and grabbed his cell phone from his pocket. He opened his chat with Yuki and rested his beer on the table to type with both hands.

Choso Kamo: 

Guess who got promoted to Senior Software Developer.

He saw her typing almost immediately, despite the late hours of the night.

Yuki Tsukumo: 

Wow, that’s amazing, Choso! Congratulations! You’ve worked so hard for this. I’m so proud of you! <3

Her quick response and her kind words send a wave of comfort and warmth through him, a sharp contrast to the loud but impersonal celebration going on around him. He couldn’t help but smile at her text, and he wondered if she was smiling, too, as she wrote it.

Choso Kamo: 

Thanks, Yuki. Means a lot coming from you. How is work on your end?

Yuki Tsukumo: 

Actuallyyyy… got promoted today, too! I was just about to text you when you texted me. I’m officially a Regional Sales Manager now! It’s been a hectic day, but I’m out celebrating with my coworkers now.

His smile grew wider as a spark of pride ignited within him. Yuki was climbing her own ladder, just like him, both their careers mirroring their ambitions. They kept climbing higher, and they were somehow still in sync, even when so far apart.

Choso Kamo: 

That’s incredible, Yuki! Congratulations! You always had the talent for making things happen. Seems like we are both moving up in the world.

Yuki Tsukumo: 

Yeah, seems like it :) But enough about work! Celebrate tonight, alright? You deserve it. You worked so hard for this promotion. Get super wasted and do something really embarrassing that you will regret tomorrow.

She was telling him to celebrate, yet the only person who was making him feel any warmth at that moment was her.

For the first time since they started talking again, Yuki was single. She and Takumi broke up just a few weeks prior. Well, she broke up with him. Too laid back about everything, she told Choso as to her reasoning for ending the relationship. Didn’t care enough about anything.

Choso was well aware that they were both single. Both navigating their careers with determination. But that meant that Yuki was to remain in Sapporo, and his life was in Tokyo. He didn’t know if their paths would ever cross again, even as they continued to share milestones together. Their worlds, though parallel, were miles apart.

He must’ve been drunker than he realized by that point because he couldn’t help himself with his next text.

Choso Kamo: 

I wish you were here to celebrate with me.

Well, she did tell him to do something embarrassing that he would regret in the morning. That surely checked all the boxes.

Yuki Tsukumo: 

Me too, Choso. Wish you were here, too. Or I was there with you.

Oh. Maybe she was just as drunk as he was. Or maybe—

“I think congratulations are in order,” Hitomi’s voice broke Choso out of his trance, and he looked up to meet her gaze as she stood next to the booth he was sitting at.

“Oh, hi, Hitomi,” he dropped his phone on the table and stood up. “Uh. Thanks. Congratulations to you too.”

She lifted up her beer mug, and Choso stared at it before catching the clue and getting his own and raising it as well.

“To your success,” Hitomi said.

“And yours.”

They clinked their mugs and drank a large gulp of their beers, and an awkward beat passed before Choso spoke up. “So, how are you?”

Hitomi licked her lips as if considering if she should dignify him with an answer to something as simple as a ‘how are you’. At the end, she gave in, nodding at the booth and taking at seat at the opposite side. Choso sat down as well, taking another sip of his beer.

“I’m alright. The promotion to Senior Project Manager was long overdue, so I’m satisfied about that, yet I’m still mad it took so long for them to promote me. Other than that, life has been fine. What about you?”

Though Choso could tell by her pink cheeks that she was drunk, Hitomi maintained her elegant poise as always.

“Yeah, you definitely deserved the promotion long ago. And life… It’s been okay, I guess,” he lied. Looking at Hitomi’s kind but analytical gaze, he sighed. “I’m really sorry for fucking things up between us, Hitomi. I—“

“I’m gonna stop you there,” she put her hand up. “When I walked here, you were on your phone, smiling. If you were going to ask for another chance, don’t. You’re still in love with her.”

“I’m not—“

“And,” she interrupted him again. “I’m engaged.”

Choso’s eyebrows raised slightly. “Oh.”

“Yeah. To Kyou from Marketing.”

Only then did Choso notice the engagement ring on her finger. It was subtle, a small stone perched on a thin silver ring, but it was still there. How come he hadn’t noticed it before?

“I… Congratulations. I’m happy for you. I really am,” Choso said, and he was sincere. He knew how much Hitomi wanted to get married, and he was glad she found someone with the same priorities in life as her.

“Thank you, Choso,” she gave him a small smile. “I hope you find happiness too. Whether that’s Yuki or someone else. She will always be your first matching tattoo, but maybe not your last. But that depends on you as well.”

Choso bit his bottom lip, uncertain of what to say, so he only nodded. He had a few other tattoos by now, other than the stripe on his face. A snake on his left arm and flowers on the right one. 

He understood that what Hitomi was saying went beyond the tattoos. It was about his willingness to let go of Yuki. Something he could not phantom doing, so all he could say was,  “Yeah. Thanks.”

Hitomi nodded as well before getting up from her seat and leaving him alone yet again. He sighed and drank the rest of the beer in his mug, and spent a while staring at his coworkers, wondering the lives they were living outside of the office. 

Were they happy and in relationships? Married already, perhaps? Or was there someone in that bar who was single and longing for someone unreachable like him?

Yuki. Her message. He never replied to it because Hitomi showed up.

He grabbed his phone from the table, opening Yuki’s messages. At the lack of his response, she sent another message, five minutes after her previous one, destroying any hope he might’ve created from her last words.

Yuki Tsukumo: 

Sorry. I’m wasted. We’ll chat tomorrow, okay? Enjoy your night, Choso :)

*

2013 | Twenty-eight years old

It became a little tradition for Choso to stop by the Komorebi Café after work, get a cup of tea and a pastry to unwind from the day before going to his new apartment in Shibuya. It was a nice place, more spacious, in a lively neighborhood, and close enough to the café, which was a huge selling point to him. Other than that, it has a dedicated office space, which serves him well when he has to do some work from home.

But going home meant being alone, something he started to dread, especially that day. He was still constantly texting Yuki, though she hadn’t been answering his messages that day, but it wasn’t the same as sharing his life with someone in person. He missed that type of face-to-face connection.

Yuki was dating someone else. Ryota, a guy their age whom she met at a corporate seminar who worked with Marketing. They had been dating for over seven months now, and that was three months that Choso had a shot with her as they were both single and yet did nothing out of fear of rejection and losing her friendship, and out of the certainty that they were bound to stay in opposite sides of the country.

He went home that day dragging his feet, tired from his day and the loneliness, and did the same whilst showering and changing into sweatpants and a t-shirt. His cell phone chirped with a message from Yuki, and he immediately felt a little better about his day, even though he hadn’t even seen the message yet.

Yuki Tsukumo: 

Sorry, I’ve been so busy today. Work has been crazy! Also, would you like to Skype sometime?? I can do it today, but later. I’m still at work :‘(  It’s okay if you need to go to sleep. We can do it another day.

Skype. He could see her face again. Just thinking about it made him smile. He had considered suggesting it before since the platform became popular that year but never did. Now he felt dumb for not asking it.

Choso Kamo: 

Yeah, let’s do Skype. I’ll wait up.

For Yuki, Choso always would.

Yuki Tsukumo: 

Okay, great! I should be home in half an hour, so we can Skype in an hour. :)

He immediately went to his bathroom to check on his appearance, even though he still had an hour before Yuki would call. He looked tired from his straining workday, his under-eye bags more defined than ever, his complexion pale. Yet he looked happier than he had been in days.

Choso considered changing clothes and even looked through some other shirts but ultimately decided that would be too much. It was just Skype.

Who was he kidding? It was Skype. He would get to see Yuki, to hear her voice for the first time in years. Almost a decade. He was nerve-wrackingly excited and anxious. What if he had changed too much, and she was thrown off by his appearance? He didn’t have a lot of pictures on Facebook. Why was he even worried about that? She had a boyfriend.

But what if they ran out of things to talk about, and it became awkward? It rarely did on messages, they always had something to talk about. But it could be different on Skype. It was certainly out of Choso’s comfort zone, yet he was so egregiously excited about it.

Choso spent the remaining hour imagining all the what-ifs, going to the bathroom to check on his appearance every two minutes, putting his hair up in a ponytail and letting it loose, and putting on and taking off his glasses.

When Yuki sent him a friend request on Skype, he had his hair up in a ponytail and his glasses on, so he figured he would keep it that way. He immediately accepted it, sitting down in front of his iMac in his office, and not a second later the ringtone of a video call started going off.

He took a deep breath to steady his heartbeat before answering the call, and when she popped into his screen, he let out the breath shakily.

She looked beautiful. Even more beautiful than in her pictures, if that was even possible. Yet she looked just like the teenager he knew and loved. The same hair, the same big brown eyes, the same light pink lips parted in a big smile.

She was wearing a knit, ribbed, pastel pink long-sleeved sweater that was slightly off the shoulders, and he could have a peek at her matching tattoo on her shoulder. Her background is of large, floor-to-ceiling windows that now show the nighttime skyline of Sapporo.

“Hey! Oh my God, Choso, you look so different! I had seen the tattoo in pictures, but they didn’t do it justice,” Yuki gave him a big smile. “And the glasses! Loving the new look. Really suits you.”

Choso smiled, blushing at her compliments. “Thanks… You look great, too. Though I can’t say you have changed much. You haven’t aged a day since high school.”

Yuki puffed, waving her hand dismissively. “As if!”

“So, why were you working so late?” Choso glanced at the clock on the computer. 11:23 p.m., it read.

“New project launching tomorrow. Hectic day, lots of meetings and stuff to finish up, but it’s all done now,” she said. “What about you? How was your day?”

Seeing her face, hearing her voice—it was comforting yet utterly nerve-wracking. She was just as he remembered, maybe even more radiant. It felt like no time had passed since she left for Sapporo in the first place.

“Long. Just the usual craziness. But I’m really glad we’re doing this,” he bit his bottom lip, hoping he wasn’t trespassing any boundaries.

“Me too. I’ve missed seeing you. One of my coworkers talked about Skype, and I immediately thought, ‘Choso and I have to try this,’” Yuki chuckled. “Thank god for software developers, huh?”

Choso laughed. “I’ll take the compliment for the community and pass it on. We all appreciate that our hard work is paying off and connecting people.”

“Today, I had to coordinate stuff with the IT team, and I swear it’s like they speak in code. Well, I guess they do. But like a secret code,” she said, making Choso chuckle again. “I was never good at that stuff. Remember how you would spend hours trying to teach me the math homework and just end up doing it for me?”

“No offense, but I still don’t know how you didn’t fail a grade that entire time. I know you weren’t cheating on the exams either,” he commented, and Yuki let out an amused laugh.

“That’s because I perform well under pressure. And because you’re a great teacher. Everything you taught me would just come to me during the exams.”

“I think the times I was teaching you were the only ones where you would allow me to be the one doing the most talking in a conversation,” Choso said.

Yuki narrowed her eyes and leaned closer to the camera, but there was still a smile on her lips. “Watch it, Choso. I might just start rambling again and not let you speak whatsoever.”

“It’s an empty threat because it’s not a threat,” Choso smiled. “I wouldn’t mind that at all. I never did.”

Yuki smiled once more, though it was a tender one this time.

Their conversation ran for hours. It was almost 2 a.m. when they were both yawning and decided to call it a night and said their goodbyes. Despite being tired and sleepy, Choso felt the happiest and most fulfilled he had felt in ages.

It felt, truly, like no time had passed since they last had a conversation face-to-face. As if everything was the same from when Yuki was still his neighbor. Except nothing was the same—they were both adults with careers in different cities, and Yuki was in a relationship. Everything was different, but there was still some strange familiarity in talking and seeing her.

He brushed his teeth and went to bed, and as he turned his alarm on for just a few hours later in the day, a message from Yuki popped up on his screen.

Yuki Tsukumo: 

I’m glad we Skyped. You sound just like I remembered.

With his heart racing, he typed back with no hesitation:

Choso Kamo: 

So do you.

*

2014 | Twenty-nine years old

Skyping became routine. They would do it every week, sometimes multiple times a week. The only exception had been the previous week, when Yuki had a rough night the day they scheduled to make a video call. She didn’t specify at the time why she couldn’t do it, but she later messaged Choso and said that she broke up with Ryota that day and she was feeling down because of it.

She was single. Again. They were both single. Again.

Choso didn’t know what to do with that information.

Skyping with Yuki was the highlight of his week, and it was like he could feel her warmth through the screen. On one hand, it was soothing. On the other, it made his mind a bigger mess, because he desperately wanted to see her. To be with her. To hold her and have her hold him. But she was nowhere within reach, and no one else came even close to the pedestal he put Yuki on.

He had become familiar with longing the feeling of longing for something unreachable, but seeing her again took it to a different level. He felt like he had never physically ached for someone so much in a physical sense. To just have her next to him. To lay next to her. For her fingers to rake through his hair. To fall asleep to the sound of her even breathing.

That night, Yuki had the day off the following day, but Choso didn’t. He still accepted her offer to have a video call, though, and when he picked up, he noticed she was wearing his old Metallica t-shirt, the one he gave her when she moved to Sapporo. It made him both warm and cold at the same time, and his heart didn't know whether to jump out of his chest or to spot altogether.

They had been on Skype for hours, and it was well past two a.m. when Choso looked out his window, contemplating his next words and hesitating to say them.

“Yuki, do you ever think about… How things might have been different? If you hadn’t moved to Sapporo?” Choso asked.

Yuki paused, her gaze also distant as she reflected on the question for a few seconds. “Sometimes. Hard not to, right? We were so… close, and then everything changed so quickly.”

Choso nodded, biting his bottom lip. “Yeah. I mean, we both moved on, built our lives, but… there’s always this ‘what if’ lingering in the back of my mind. Like, what if you had stayed, or what if I had gone to Sapporo with you?”

“Choso, you chasing me to Sapporo sounds like something out of a soap opera,” Yuki chuckles, folding one of her legs up on her chair and against her chest. “But I get it. We were inseparable, and then suddenly, we weren’t.”

“Yeah,” Choso pushed his hair out of his face. “I can’t help but think that maybe we missed out on something… big. Not that I’m unhappy with where I am and what we are. It’s just—“

“It’s just that part of us stayed in that time, right?” Yuki said, and despite her easy-going smile, there was a hint of sadness in her voice. Choso nodded. “I feel that way too. But then I remember how much we’ve grown since then. How much we’ve accomplished. Maybe those experiences, being apart, made us who we are today. Maybe we had to find out who we were without the other. And I cherish these talks, Choso. I love talking to you. It reminds me how much you mean to me, how much you always meant to me, even if we are not… together, physically,” Yuki said, making Choso gulp. “The bond we have right now is something I wouldn’t trade for any ‘what-if’.”

He gave her a faint, soft smile. “I cherish this a lot, too, Yuki. It’s nice to know you feel the same. That our connection isn’t just in my imagination.”

She smiled back at him, and he yawned.

“Sorry, it’s getting late. Well, it is late already, I guess,” Choso said.

“It’s okay, I’ll let you go to sleep.”

“No, no, I don’t mean I want to hang up,” he shook his head quickly. “I really don’t want to hang up, actually.”

Yuki smiled tenderly and nodded. “Are you on your laptop?”

For once, Choso had chosen to use his MacBook instead of his iMac, as he was sitting in his living room instead of his office.

“I am. Why?”

“Take me to your bed. I’ll keep you company until you fall asleep,” Yuki said, and Choso couldn’t help the way her words made him blush. As if he was really taking her to bed, and not just his laptop.

He obliged, though, getting up and disconnecting the MacBook from the charger. He positioned the laptop in his bed and laid sideways under his covers with his head on his pillow, facing Yuki, who gave him a small smile.

Seeing her on his screen, she felt so close to him. Like he could reach his arm out and touch her. Feel her skin erupt in goosebumps under his fingers again. See her cheeks get flushed light pink. Smell her perfume. Hear her breathing and heartbeat grow fast.

But he couldn’t. She wasn’t in front of him. It was just an illusion. She was still on the other side of the country.

The thought was overwhelming, so he buried it deep down in his brain, somewhere he wouldn't have to look at it again.

“Goodnight, Yuki,” Choso said, his eyelids growing heavy as he watched her through his screen, wearing his old shirt, with her bare knees tucked in against her chest.

It was impossible to tell the time without a clock, since there was no sunlight, as well as no moon shining above them.

Choso did have a watch, and he would check it every now and then, mostly to keep track of the changing shifts with Yuki. But he didn’t have a way to tell what day it was or how long it had been since they started guarding Tengen. No way to keep tally on the walls when there are no physical walls.

Yuki used to check the day on her cell phone, but it ran out of battery after the second day, and Tengen could not – or would not – provide her with a charging cable and a power outlet.

“Hey, Tengen! Come out!” Yuki yells out, sitting up on the floor.

They don’t obey her command. As usual.

“Come on, I’m not going to annoy you! We just want to know what day it is!” Yuki screams out again, and after a beat of silence, she lets out a sigh of resignation. It seems like, whatever day it is, Tengen was not having a great one.

But after a few more seconds of absolutely nothing happening, Tengen’s voice sounds through the room.

“It’s February 14 th ,” they said. Nothing more, nothing else.

“Huh,” Yuki is slightly surprised. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”

She looks down at Choso then, trying to gauge his reaction to the information. Which is not much. Choso, actually, is preoccupied trying to remember the date of when they first started guarding Tengen, to determine how long they’ve been there for.

“Do you know what Valentine’s Day is, Choso?” Yuki asks him, a sly smile on her face.

Great, she’s back to testing my body’s memory about modern society, Choso thinks. But despite Choso often being on the receiving end of Yuki’s curiosity and inquisitions, he wasn’t at all annoyed by her.

Actually, he was very far from annoyed.

In the first few days guarding Tengen, after the storm had settled down a bit, Choso was able to analyze Yuki a little better—better than when they first met in Shibuya. She was talkative and inquisitive, and Choso thought she smelled like cinnamon and nutmeg despite not recalling having smelled either of those things before.

She kept asking him what is his type, a shtick that grew old fast as Choso consistently replied to it with I don’t know, I don’t know many women. Yuki thought that was an unacceptable answer, but after a few more days, she stopped asking it.

After what seemed like two weeks—but, honestly, could’ve been just a few days—, he started growing fonder of Yuki’s presence. He could only imagine how painstakingly boring it would be to guard Tengen alone. And Choso didn’t know Yuuta very well, Tengen’s third option for a guard, but he thinks it’s impossible for the boy to be more entertaining than Yuki is.

He appreciated how Yuki would teach him recipes and involve him in the cooking process daily, sometimes even letting him take the reins and use his muscle memory to make up a dish for both of them. He liked how she was just as good at talking as she was at listening and giving advice, something that became quite clear after Choso broke down in tears when Tengen turned their Chambers into a bar.

He liked how she, somehow, still smelled like cinnamon and nutmeg, even though they were both using the same shower products that had a neutral smell.

And, while Choso indeed doesn’t know many women, he doesn’t need to be able to ascertain that Yuki is beautiful.

Overall, she is good company. He doesn’t mind getting his knowledge tested every once in a while by her, especially because he also enjoys learning more about the modern world and filling in the gaps in his mind. And when she isn’t testing and probing him, she is possibly the best company he could ask for while doing a task so boring as guarding Tengen and staying ready for Kenjaku’s arrival.

“Hm, like a romantic day, I think,” Choso answers her, sitting up as well and crossing his legs.

Yuki scoots a little on the floor so she is sitting in front of him, something she does often, always trying to meet his gaze instead of having him look down and away. Choso figures that it is because she is always studying and scrutinizing his expressions and reactions to mundane pieces of information, but the reality is that Yuki just thinks he has really pretty eyes.

“Yeah, I suppose it is. Though in some places it’s not just for couples, like in Finland and Mexico. They celebrate friendships as well,” Yuki says, and Choso stares at her, nodding slowly as he takes in the information. “In China, they have a whole celebration called the Qixi Festival, and the legend goes that the Cowherd star and the Weaver Maid star, two estranged lovers divided by the higher powers, are separated by the silvery river of the Milky Way, but they can cross it to meet on the seventh day of the seventh month of their calendar, once a year.”

That was a string of words that Choso had no idea what meant, but he still nodded. “That sounds… interesting.”

“Yeah. In France, they have a really cool celebration in Roquemaure every two years. People dress up like they were in the 19 th century, and there is a whole festival with a bunch of stuff to do, like listen to music played on old instruments, see magicians and fire eaters, and play old-fashioned games,” Yuki goes on, and Choso watches with admiration at all her knowledge. Well, maybe it was common knowledge; he wouldn’t know.

At that moment, though—as well as most of their conversations—he saw Yuki as the smartest person in the world. And he was sure that if he said that to her, she would agree with his statement.

“Sounds really fun,” Choso says. “Have you been to the festival before?”

Yuki smiles at him, pleased with herself that she managed to catch his attention. “I have. In… 2013, I think? Around that.”

“You’ve been everywhere, it seems like,” Choso adds.

“There are still some places left on my bucket list—you know, places I want to go to before I die,” she clarifies the term for him and then sighs dramatically. “Well, we don’t have a cool backstory for it here in Japan. It’s just some celebratory date companies brought over from Western countries to make money. And there’s no ingredients to make chocolate in this place, so I can’t give you any.”

Choso’s eyebrows knit together, looking at her both puzzled and intrigued. “Chocolate?”

“Yeah. The tradition here is for women to give chocolate to men on Valentine’s Day—there’s giri-choco, which you give as an obligation to male friends or coworkers, and there is honmei-choco, which you usually make at home instead of buying in a store, and you give it to a man that you actually have romantic feelings for.”

Choso blinks once. Twice.

“You would give me a honmei-choco?” he asks, even though Yuki couldn’t have been clearer in her explanation.

She has a sly smile on her lips as she tilts her head slightly. “I would. And then you would give me a white chocolate back on March 14 th . Or some other gift.”

His cheeks are burning. Yuki has never been shy, and she would often say flirtatious things to Choso, give him a wink, and blow him a kiss every now and then. Choso just figured that’s her personality; that she is a flirty person, but she isn’t necessarily flirting with him. But now she was straight-up telling him she would give him the type of chocolate one gives to someone they have romantic feelings for.

“I mean, you don’t have to, but it’s the tradition. Especially if you also have feelings for the woman who gave you the chocolate,” she adds with a chuckle.

“I would,” Choso says immediately. “I would give you a chocolate back.”

Yuki’s smile grows wider at Choso’s confession, and he can see her cheeks tinted with a light hue of pink. “Let’s hope we get out of here by the next month, then. Though, as I said, I can’t really give you any chocolate right now, but… Hmm… Wait here.”

She gets up from the floor, and Choso watches as she goes to her backpack, digging into its contents. She frowns as she inspects her belongings, shaking her head in disapproval, and tries to find something she can give to Choso. She riffles through her clothes and the general litter that was always in her bags: old plane tickets, a stray old protein bar, and bills and coins from multiple foreign currencies.

“Ha!” Yuki exclaims, pulling something out of her bag, with a wide grin. Choso arches an eyebrow as he stares at her, but otherwise remains quiet. She walks back to him, but this time she sits down by his side. When she crosses her legs, her knee touches his thigh, and he feels his cheeks burn brighter. “Here. It’s not chocolate, but, oh, well.”

She hands him an object, and he takes it from her hand with a careful touch, resting it on his hand as he inspects it further. It’s a circular object made of aged silver, and it’s small enough to fit comfortably into Choso’s hand, but it also feels reassuringly heavy. The surface of the silver is covered with delicate engravings shaped like swirls that shine blue and purple, reminding Choso of a twilight sky. The center of the object looks like a cap, and it has a bas-relief of a map of stars in the same hues of purple and blue.

Choso stares in awe at the beautiful object, his lips slightly parted as he takes in every breath-taking detail, but he is also lost as he has no idea what it is. Yuki notices his hesitation, and she leans in closer to him. “It’s a compass. Here, you open this to see it.”

She lifts up the star-covered cap, revealing a compass with a blue background, marks of cardinal directions, and a needle crafted from a thin, lightweight metal that matches the aged silver tone. At the tip of the needle, a tiny purple crystal catches the light as the needle wavers slightly on Choso’s hand.

Though the object is already breathtaking enough on its own, it’s the phrase engraved around the compass’ face that catches Choso’s attention and makes him raise his eyebrows slightly. Keep moving forward, one step at a time, and you'll find your way, it reads.

“It’s a navigational tool,” Yuki explains, and she’s leaning close enough that her arms are touching Choso’s. “The tip of the needle points to Earth’s magnetic North. But I use it more to remind myself that I’m on the right path. Or, well, getting there. Maybe it can do the same for you. I know you feel all sorts of lost right now, so when you feel like that in the future and I’m not there to give you stellar advice on your problems, you can look at it and remember that you are finding your way, one step at a time.”

Choso looks at Yuki, his face torn between adoration and weighed by her words. She has a smile tugging on the corners of her lips, but it’s not the usual smirk she carries. It’s sincere, it’s honest, and Choso is taken by a tide of emotion, the depth of his feelings for Yuki dawning on him with overwhelming clarity, making his heart feel somehow heavier on his chest than the compass in his hand.

“It’s beautiful, but… I’d rather still have you by my side. Always,” he breathes out, making Yuki’s smile grow bigger and her cheeks burn slightly.

“I like the sound of that,” Yuki says, her words merely above a whisper. “If that’s where you want me to be, then I’ll be by your side forever, Choso.”

Choso gulps at the intensity of her gaze on his, the proximity of her body leaning against his, and the confessions they’ve exchanged. His mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and desires, and his eyes stay tethered to hers as if the pull he felt toward her is as strong as the magnetic North pulling the crystal tip of the compass.

Powered by both instinct and desperation, he inches his face closer to hers. Even if they have just shared and acknowledged their attraction and feelings for each other, he still doesn’t know how to proceed; doesn’t know if Yuki wants to kiss him as badly as he wants to kiss her at that moment.

But when she leans in closer to him as well, his thoughts are muffled by his overwhelming desire until Yuki leans in further enough so their lips can meet in a soft, tender kiss. Her lips are soft against his, even if he can remember her complaining viciously that Tengen didn’t provide them with any chapstick for their stay.

Their lips engage in a delicate dance, tender pressure and movement speaking volumes, and Yuki’s tongue swipes Choso’s bottom lip, silently asking for permission. He opens his mouth slightly, and they deepen their kiss as their tongues touch and intertwine. Yuki’s hand raises to his neck, her thumb sliding down his Adam’s Apple with a feathery touch.

It’s Choso’s first kiss, but he is grateful that his body seems to remember what to do more than his mind, as his hand goes to Yuki’s waist, gently squeezing it as their lips move in unison. Yuki’s hand raises from his neck to his hair, tugging it and making him arch his neck, allowing for her lips to dive down and kiss the skin there.

Choso’s breathing is labored when Yuki sucks on the skin, trailing kisses up the column of his throat and to his earlobe, biting it gently. He lets out a shaky breath, his whole body warming up to her touch. He lets instinct and muscle memory guide his moves as he leans over Yuki, guiding her gently until her back is on the floor. She spreads her legs promptly and he climbs on top of her, catching her lips once again on his.

He repays her kisses by trailing his lips to her jaw and neck, kissing and sucking on her soft skin, her scent of cinnamon and nutmeg never before so overpowering and engulfing to his senses. As he balances himself with one arm on her side, his free hand travels through the side of her body, and her own hands run across his torso and back. Low whimpers leave her lips when he sucks on the skin of her neck, right below her ear, and her hips shoot up, grinding against his and making him groan.

She unties Choso’s purple vest, and Choso sits up on his knees to take it off. Yuki sits up as well, taking her shirt off and tossing it on the floor. Choso feels his cheeks burn even brighter at the sight of her chest, still covered by her bra, and his lips part in awe.

“I’d say take a picture, it would last longer, but I doubt there’s a camera in here,” Yuki smirks at him, and Choso peels his eyes off her tits to look back into her eyes, before leaning in and kissing her lips again.

His hands go to her back, undoing the clasp of her bra, and she lets it fall from her body and to the side before her hands go to Choso’s back once more, trying to find the knot for his white robes. Her hands trace around his back, then his front, again and again, until she huffs in frustration.

“Damn, Choso, how the fuck do you take this off?” she complains against his lips, losing her patience and making him chuckle lowly. “Take it off before I rip it off you, and you’re left to guard Tengen naked.”

 He smiles against her lips before pulling away from her a bit to take off his robe, letting it fall to his knees. Yuki bites her bottom lip as she takes in his naked form. Choso doesn’t wear underwear, Yuki thinks as she stares at his hard cock. Dutifully noted.

Her hand wraps around his cock, her movements slow and teasing, making him grunt and kiss her once again, and laying her down again on her back. He tugs the robes off his legs, tossing them to the side before laying down over her. His hand gropes her chest, his thumb caressing her nipple and making her hum against his mouth.

The feeling of Yuki’s hand around his cock and her moans in his mouth is driving him crazy, and he lets his instinct dictate what to do next as his lips trail down, kissing her neck and her collarbones, and swirling his tongue around her nipple while his free hand massages her other one.

Yuki lets out soft moans at his actions, spurring him on as her finger threads through his hair, undoing his pigtails and letting his dark tresses fall free around his face. His lips dive lower, kissing her toned abs until he reaches the hem of her denim pants.

He undoes the many buttons and tugs the jeans down, along with her panties, sitting up to take them off her legs. He settles down once more between her legs, but this time his face is right in front of her weeping sex, and he stares at it in adoration and awe for a second before looking up at Yuki once more.

She is smiling at him, and her cheeks are lightly flushed as she runs her fingers through his hair, pushing it off his face.

“I-I’ve never done this before,” Choso says.

“I’m guessing you never kissed someone before either, but you are pretty great at it,” Yuki has a soft smile on her lips. “Just follow your instincts. If you do something I don’t like, I’ll let you know for sure.”

Choso nods slightly before dipping his head down, doing as she said—following his instincts and hoping muscle memory kicks in. He sticks his tongue out and licks Yuki’s cunt from bottom to top, earning a low moan from her. He repeats the action again and again, noticing that Yuki moans louder when his tongue reaches the very top, and something in his mind whispers to him that that’s her clit. Even though he has no idea what a clitoris is.

It's enough knowledge and encouragement to use his tongue to draw circles on it, starting with a light touch, and increasing his pressure when Yuki mewls and grabs his hair, pushing him further against her cunt.

He sucks and licks her clit, and while one of his hands rests around her thigh, he uses the other one to slowly push his index finger inside her. The action makes her moan raggedly, and her hips move involuntarily against his face.

“Fuck, that’s it, Choso,” she moans, her eyes fluttering shut and her lips parted. “More, give me more.”

He obliges, adding a second finger inside her, moving them in and out of her and curling them in a come-hither motion, pressing into Yuki’s sweet spot and making her moan loudly and squeeze his head between her thighs. His tongue and his lips keep going roughly and fast against her clit, and she fists his hair between her fingers.

“Oh, fuck—” she grinds her hips against his face.

Her moans and her moves incentivize him to keep at it, and he does it even as Yuki lets out a gasp, arching her back and tugging harshly on his hair. He can feel her cunt contracting and relaxing around his fingers, yet he keeps going, blissfully unaware of the signs of Yuki’s orgasm, and taking her body language as an encouragement to go faster and rougher with his tongue against her clit.

“A-Ah, stop, stop,” Yuki pulls him up by his hair, and he frowns, looking at her with a confused expression.

“Why? Did I do something wrong? I thought you were enjoying it,” he asks, puzzled.

“I was enjoying it a lot, but I came already,” she explains, giving him a small smile.

 “Came?” Choso’s frown grows deeper. “You are right here. Where did you go?”

Yuki chuckles, shaking her head. “No, I just mean I’m finished. You know, I’m done. ”

“You’re finished?!” Choso’s voice is high and has a hint of desperation, his erection throbbing painfully at the idea that Yuki was done and he would have to take care of himself… somehow.

Yuki tosses her head back as she laughs loudly, and Choso keeps staring at her, both confused and distressed. She sits up, taking his chin between her fingers and pulling him up until he is on his knees, at her eye level. She gives him a sly smile, and he’s still as puzzled as he was before.

“Not like that. I had an orgasm. Like, reached my peak of pleasure. If you keep going at it on my clit after I have an orgasm, it’s overwhelming and it can be painful—though some people are into that,” she explains, and he watches her, paying attention to each of her words. “But I’m not done with you, not at all.”

“Ah,” Choso nods slightly, getting a faint memory of what an orgasm is in his mind, and glad he managed to get Yuki to the peak of her pleasure when he had very little idea about what he was doing. “… Okay.”

Yuki smiles, wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing him in for a kiss. She’s biting his bottom lip and sucking on it as she pulls herself up to be on his lap, making him sit back on his shins, still kneeling on the floor. While one of her arms remains laced around his neck, she lowers her other hand until she reaches his cock, and she pumps him slowly before tilting her hips up and pressing his tip against her entrance.

Choso exhales shakily between kisses as his cock slides inside her, and Yuki moans lowly at the stretch. Her cunt is warm and wet around him, and when he bottoms out, he can’t help but grunt at the overwhelming feeling. So foreign, yet so familiar—and so mind-numbingly good.

Yuki starts moving slowly, lifting her hips and lowering back down, lewd sounds leaving her lips as she does it. Choso rests his hands on her back, one of them traveling lower to cup and squeezing her ass.

Her movements are slow and calm until they aren’t anymore. Yuki increases the pace, her hips slamming down and taking his cock deep and hard, making Choso grunt and huff, and his hands squeeze her flesh tightly.

“Fuck, Choso,” Yuki throws her head back, feeling him hit all the right spots inside of her.

His hands go to her hips, helping her speed up her movements, as he feels his pleasure build up more and more—even if he just learned what an orgasm is, he knows enough to assert that his own won’t take much longer to come.

One of his hands abandon his grip on her hips to move around to her front, sliding down until he can press his middle and ring fingers against her clit, the circular movements harsh and fast. It makes Yuki gasp lowly and moan louder, her hand going to his hair and tugging on his roots.

They both move in unison—Yuki bouncing on his cock, and Choso teasing her clit.

“Oh, God, Choso—” Yuki’s speech is interrupted as her orgasm takes over her body, making her breath get stuck in her throat, her movements still for a moment, and her nails dig into Choso’s shoulders.

He feels her cunt contract around his cock, and, this time, he does get the clue and stops moving his fingers against her clit, letting her ride her wave and moaning hoarsely as her walls suck him in deeper. Choso’s hands go to her hips, and he moves her, also shooting his own hips up to meet hers, chasing his own orgasm desperately as Yuki’s cunt is squeezing his cock for dear life. He grunts loudly as he comes undone as well, his hips stuttering as he shoots ropes of cum inside Yuki’s pussy.

When their movements finally cease, they’re both out of breath, with flushed faces and sweaty bodies. Choso feels positively wasted, so much so that he can’t help but fall back onto the floor with Yuki still on top of him. Their chests are flush with each other’s as they try to catch their breath, yet Yuki still kisses his lips passionately, and Choso doesn’t hesitate to kiss her back.

His fingers trace the skin on her back as they kiss, and when they part their kiss, Yuki has a sly smile on her lips as she says, “Best Valentine’s Day ever.”

Choso chuckles, lifting his hand to brush her hair off her face. “Agreed. Though I don’t have much to compare to.”

“Maybe we can go to France next year, then. Go to the festival. I’m sure you will have a good time. We can visit other countries in the Mediterranean as well after it,” Yuki says, her voice a low whisper, her words still crashing on Choso’s lips from how close their faces still were.

Choso likes that idea—he likes it a lot. Not because he is particularly interested in going to Europe, but because it’s a promise to remain by Yuki’s side, no matter where they go after they are done guarding Tengen and defeating Kenjaku. His heart races in his chest, the intensity of his newly acknowledged feelings for her surging through him with a startling force that was unknown to him before.

“Y-Yeah,” his voice is hoarse, and he clears his throat. “Yeah, we should go. I’d go anywhere with you, but France sounds nice.”

Yuki smiles, leaning in to kiss him again, raising her hand to his neck, not before adding in, “France for the next Valentine’s Day, then. It’s a date.”

Their lips connect once more, their kiss slow and lingering as they cherish the moment and the promised future—a future together. Choso basks in the cinnamon and nutmeg, feeling her scent transfer into his own skin.

Yuki parts their kiss with a soft smile before lifting her head up and shouting into the room, “Hope you liked the show, Tengen! And you better have a morning-after pill ready for me because Choso doesn’t know you’re supposed to pull out!”

*

When the next year rolls around, Choso isn’t really bothering with keeping up with the days, the calendar in his mind now blurred and indistinct. But when he gets an otherwise random piece of chocolate from Nobara and Maki, the realization that it’s Valentine’s Day hits him like a hammer. It all becomes clear in his mind; the romantic commercials on the TV, the incessant ads of jewelry he was getting on his phone, the pink heart décor that seems to be taking over every store.

A year. It’s Valentine’s Day again, a year since Yuki explained to him what Valentine’s Day is, an echo of the day she once painted its meaning with her words. A year since they had their first kiss and had sex for the first time after confessing their feelings for each other.

They should be in France, attending the festival in Roquemaure. That was the plan. The date. But they aren’t. Because Yuki died in the battle against Kenjaku—a battle both Choso and Yuki lost. They both lost, yet Choso is alive, and she isn’t. It doesn’t feel fair, and Choso’s grief is paired with an overwhelming amount of guilt for being the survivor of the battle when Yuki had so much more to look forward to in life, so much left to do, so many people she could’ve helped.

Choso had a long time to grieve her—and still is grieving her—, and he even Googled the French festival previously. But he couldn’t go. Not without her. It wouldn’t feel right, not when they vowed to attend it together, not when he would see her in every detail and corner.

Since the realization that it is Valentine’s Day, Choso seems acutely aware of all the couples around him as he walks down the street. People holding hands, smiling at each other as they talk, men carrying boxes of chocolate in their hands. He swears he has never seen so many couples in his life, even if he walks the same street every day.

It seems like everyone has a date for the special day—except him. He just has two pieces of giri-choco that he got from Nobara and Maki out of obligation, not affection.

Maybe he should walk faster to get to his apartment and out of all the displays of love that seem to be crowding both his body and his mind, but, instead, Choso finds himself walking slower and observing the couples and the scenery. It goes against his gut instinct to protect himself, but he still does it.

There is a woman locking her arm with the man walking next to her. Choso remembers how Yuki would often do that to him—grip his forearm when she was talking and got really excited about something and lace her arm around his while she watched Choso try to cook something for the two of them in Tengen’s Chambers, laying her head on his shoulder.

There’s another couple holding hands. Yuki did that as well. He remembers the first time she did it, not too long after they had confessed their feelings for each other on Valentine’s Day. They were sitting on the couch, both reading books that they got from Tengen’s very limited collection. Choso’s free hand was resting on the couch, and he suddenly felt Yuki’s on top of his, a subtle but electrifying touch. She didn’t even look away from her reading, as if the action of touching his hand with hers was not a big deal. It was a big deal to Choso, who had red cheeks and a thumping heart as he turned his hand around, allowing them to intertwine their fingers.

There is even a young couple sharing a kiss, sitting on a bench by the street. Choso doesn’t need to think hard to recall the kisses that he and Yuki shared. The memories of their intimate moments while in Tengen’s chambers—more intimate than they should’ve been since they were supposed to be standing guard and, well, aware that Tengen could be watching them at any time—used to make his cheeks flush, but now it just made his heart break a little more. At the memory that Yuki is gone. At the realization that their lips will never touch again, she will never hold his hand, squeeze his arm, or moan and dig her nails into his skin when he’s inside her.

If that’s where you want me to be, then I’ll be by your side forever, Choso.

It seems like some promises are impossible to keep.

There’s a storm brewing inside his mind and his heart as he walks down the street, but he still notices the small flower stand that wasn’t there yesterday. Arrangements of all sizes and colors decorate it, yet his eyes are drawn to the display of framed pressed flowers. There are a few varying in color and type, and Choso doesn’t know enough about flowers to distinguish most, but he picks up one that stands out in particular.

He knows the flower well. The pink carnations arrayed before him transition from the softest hint of blush to a vibrant rose hue. Their green stems and leaves form a crisp contrast, while the blossoms themselves, each unique in size, are artfully arranged within the frame's embrace.

After he got an apartment, Choso tried to plant pink carnations on the small balcony. He didn’t really care about flowers or any decoration, really, but he remembered Yuki saying they were her favorite flowers. She talked plenty about their significance in different cultures, and how she wanted to visit the fields where they bloomed in someday. It was on her bucket list, among other things she would never be able to cross out.

Everything that belonged to her was destroyed when she turned into a black hole—with the exception of her notebook, which went to Yuuji, and the compass she gifted Choso a year ago—so Choso wanted something in his apartment that reminded him of her. It didn’t work, though; the flowers never bloomed, and he eventually stopped watering them. They remain dried up in a pot on his balcony, a sore reminder that even if something is dead, it still has an irrevocable place in his life.

“You like those? Pretty, aren’t they?” a woman speaks up behind him, and he looks over slightly. It’s a greying old lady wearing a uniform and a wide smile. She probably works in the stand, and he just hadn’t noticed her presence, too engulfed by the sight of the carnations.

Choso offers her a faint nod, unable to muster a smile back, and his voice is soft when he replies, “Yeah, they are.”

His gaze lingers on the pressed flowers, as he silently chews his inner cheek, taking in the details of what could’ve bloomed and never did despite his best efforts—much like him and Yuki.

“Pink carnations, it’s what they are called. They are from the Mediterranean area—Greece, Italy, France, Malta, and other countries like that.” The lady steps closer to him. Her voice is warm, and her words stir up a bittersweet ache within him for what—and who—he lost. “They are known for their spicy, clove-like scent, like cinnamon and nutmeg, and they are a symbol of never forgetting someone important.”

Choso feels a knot in his throat, and he gulps in hopes of swallowing it down, but it doesn’t move. In a moment of illusion, Yuki’s signature scent seems to linger in the air, a ghostly presence that has him turning to empty space, half-expecting to meet her gaze once more. But she’s not there. It’s just the carnations, silently echoing her absence.

With the weight of his sorrows and the sting of unshed tears, Choso buys the pressed flowers. As he walks home, his mind is a tempest of memories, each a haunted echo of unfulfilled dreams and promises—dreams and promises to wander through France together, surrounded by the very flowers he now carries in his hand.

Upon returning home, Choso places the framed pink carnations on the console by the entrance of his apartment. He doesn’t have the tools to hang the frame to a wall, and he prefers that they stand where Yuki’s essence can greet him and bid him farewell as he enters or leaves the place. With his eyes lingering on the flowers, he tucks his hand into his pocket, fiddling with the compass Yuki gave him last year, and that he never spent a moment without it within his reach.

The pain of Yuki’s absence is a constant weight, but there’s a strange comfort to be found in the flowers. Their scent, Yuki’s scent, the promise they represent—these things tether him to Yuki, to the moments they shared, and to her impact on his life. An impact that couldn’t be summarized by words, not in a thousand-word essay, but still somehow explained thoroughly by the carnations.

He takes a piece of white chocolate from his pocket, a token being sold at the flower stand's checkout, and gently places it before the framed flowers.

Choso supposed it didn’t really matter anyway. His job was to stay seated and watch the ceremony as the rest of the guests. Laugh at the jokes Nobara incorporated into her vows, swoon at Maki’s promises of eternal love, and cheer when it came to the time for their first kiss as a married couple. That’s what Yuuji told him beforehand, anyway.

His eyes wandered to Yuuji, reflecting if someday he would tie the knot with Megumi. If he would propose or Megumi would. Regardless of whose initiative it would be, Choso would be happy as long as his little brother was.

It should come as no surprise when Choso started to wonder if he would ever be up on an altar himself. Maybe Yuuji would ask him to be one of his groomsmen when the time came, so he would be standing there while Yuuji and Megumi slid rings into each other’s fingers. But, of course, Choso wasn’t wondering about just being at the altar to support his brother. He wanted to know if he would ever be the groom.

He ran his finger under the collar of his shirt, trying to loosen the tie that he seemed to have wrapped around his neck too tightly. It was only the second time he had worn a suit, and in the first one, he didn’t bother with a tie.

His thoughts went to where they always seemed to end up, one way or the other: Yuki.

The first time he wore a suit was whenever they were still guarding Tengen, and the all-knowing being turned their chambers into an upscale bar.

Choso wondered if Yuki would ever want to get married. She didn’t seem like the type.

Still, he allowed himself to picture himself dropping to one knee to propose to her after saying a few sweet things. He would probably tumble through his words, his cheeks burning with embarrassment from saying what he thought about her out loud.

He would tell her that she is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen and that he never thought he had a shot with her. He would curse himself for his obliviousness whenever she was hitting on him when they first started hanging out in Tengen’s chambers. He would thank her for her kind, wise words regarding his brothers, and for her patience with his clueless self.

Whenever he was ready to ask the question, he imagined she would jump on him before he finished the sentence, whispering a ‘yes’ with her lips against his.

He would let her take the reins of planning the wedding. She liked being in control of everything, and Choso didn’t know the first thing about decoration, and wouldn’t have an opinion on the napkins being folded into swans or roses.

It would all be a surprise to him as he waited at the altar for her, trying not to sweat too much in his suit from anxiety, until the doors opened to reveal her. Choso couldn’t imagine Yuki would choose a traditional wedding dress, but maybe she would surprise him. Then again, the thought of her walking down the aisle in a dress that cinched her waist and put on display her wonderful cleavage erupted more feelings in his body than just a rapidly beating heart.

He would cry, probably—very likely—as she walked down the aisle. She would see his tears and giggle, then pout at him jokingly before joining him at the altar. He would tell her that she looked beautiful, and she would whisper back that he cleans up pretty well, but that she still likes him better when he’s muddy.

She would make everyone laugh with her vows, and Choso would stutter his way through his, trying to imagine it was just the two of them in a room, not surrounded by a crowd of friends and family.

And then he would kiss her—not like any kiss they had shared before—the first kiss as husband and wife. He would try to dip her in his arms, maybe failing terribly as he realized she was even taller on heels. But she would wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him back, smiling yet desperate for a taste of him just as he was desperate for her.

The party would be wild, and Choso would hold Yuki’s hair afterward while she puked all the cocktails she had. And they would be off to their honeymoon, which he was sure Yuki would fill with places she had visited and loved before or the rare places she hadn’t been to yet. He would make love to her every night and morning, telling her how much he loved her, how much he loved his wife, as they both reached their climax together.

Well, none of that mattered anyway. Choso would just stuff his thoughts into the back of his mind because he doubted Yuki would ever want to get married.

As he looked to his side, he tried to imagine her blond hair in an updo, wearing a simple yet beautiful dress for the occasion. Simple as to not upstage the brides, yet beautiful because she looked beautiful on anything.

The illusion didn’t last for long, because Yuki was not sitting by his side. Kusakabe was, looking as bored as ever, yet paying more attention to the ceremony than Choso was.

None of that mattered anyway, because Choso would never be able to ask Yuki her thoughts on marriage.

Because Yuki was not sitting by his side. Yuki was lying six feet under. What was left of her, anyway. Not enough to cremate after she turned into a black hole in a failed effort to stop Kenjaku, but a tombstone remained erected in her honor at the cemetery.

The only real thing left of her was her journal, which Choso gave Yuuji long ago, and one of her old shirts, which he had found while excavating the remains of Tengen’s chambers. He didn’t give that one away or tell anyone about it. Instead, it lay under his pillow, the one he would rest his head on every night. He had to wash the shirt to get rid of the dust that came from being buried under debris, and it pained him deeply that he was also washing away any traces or lingering scents of her from the fabric.

Whenever Nobara and Maki kissed, the crowd erupted in cheers, and Choso was just one of the many faces covered in tears at that point. No one would be able to tell that his tears were not because he was witnessing the miracle of love, and no one was looking at him anyway.

Late at night, after a few too many beers at the wedding party, he found himself wandering to the same place he would always end up at.

He had memorized the path already, and it was easy enough to reach the tombstone that read Tsukumo Yuki.

Choso sat down in front of it, a half-empty beer bottle in his hand as he stared at Yuki’s name engraved into the stone.

“You would’ve loved it, Tsukumo,” Choso said after a beat of silence, his voice raspy from the sadness in his heart and the alcohol in his veins. “The ceremony was beautiful. Nobara and Maki looked really happy. And you would’ve loved the party afterward. Lots of alcohol and the cake was delicious. Yuuji kept trying to make me dance, but I don’t know how to. If you were here, you would’ve probably convinced me to get on the dance floor, though.”

He stared at her name in the stone, as if waiting for her to say something back. She never did. She was long gone, whether he had accepted that or not.

“I never got to ask you your thoughts on marriage,” Choso’s eyes dropped to the ground, staring at the grass. “Never got to ask you many things, I guess.”

He took a sip of his beer, still waiting for a reply that wouldn’t come.

Begrudgingly, his other hand traveled to the pocket of his pants, taking out a small black velvet box. He laid his beer bottle by his side, holding the box with his two hands.

“I saw this at a store the other day when I went to buy a suit for the wedding, and I thought of you,” he continued. He opened the box, staring at the gold ring with a light brown, almost golden stone in the middle that shined under the moonlight. “It reminded me of the color of your eyes.”

Choso shook his head slightly and closed the box. After a minute of thought, he laid it next to Yuki’s tombstone, figuring it would be better to leave it with her than to carry it around, having a constant reminder of her absence in his pocket.

He took his beer, got up to his feet, and swallowed the knot in his throat.

“Again, I don’t really know your thoughts on marriage,” Choso said, staring at the small box, and back to her name on the stone. “But maybe you can tell me in our next life. I’ll make sure to find you. If you don’t find me first, that is.”

He would. They probably wouldn’t be Jujutsu sorcerers again. Maybe they would have regular jobs, and stumble into one another while grabbing coffee in the morning. Maybe they would go to the same school, and they would meet when they were still kids. Maybe they would see each other on a dating app, both swiping right and finding out that it’s a match. Maybe they would be living in different countries, and meet each other on social media through common friends. It didn’t matter. Even if they were birds flying in the sky, he was sure he would find his way to her.

Choso sighed, looking one last time at the tombstone. “Until then, the ring is yours to keep, Tsukumo. And so is my heart.”

A light breeze swayed him and made the fallen leaves on the ground shift ever so slightly. He let out a small smile, imagining it was Yuki responding to him from the afterlife. He couldn’t possibly know what she could be saying, but he liked to imagine that she was telling him she felt the same way he did. That she would marry him if she were there.

Actually, he never fought her on anything. Yuki was abrasive and lacked respect for her superiors, but other than her general attitude and her bragging, she was nice to Choso. While that might be because they were the only jujutsu sorcerers on their grade, Choso still enjoyed her company, when she wasn’t hell-bent on complaining about the higher-ups or saying that the classes weren’t tailored to a special grade sorcerer like her.

Aside from attending classes and being paired up in missions during their time in Jujutsu High, they weren’t all that close. And while Choso had a massive crush on Yuki, with her long blonde hair and curvy body, she had never shown any signs that she was interested in him. He never acted on his thoughts and desires, and instead hushed them down and stored them deep inside his brain, choosing to instead be in denial about his attraction to his schoolmate.

And now, two years after graduating, they both worked as sorcerers, but they had never been paired up on a mission since high school. It made sense since both were powerful enough to exorcise any curses they faced on their own.

So, overall, Choso and Yuki haven’t seen each other much for the past two years, with the rare exception of Jujutsu Tech throwing a party or gala and both attending.

That is all to say that when Choso was told that he was being sent on a mission with Yuki, he couldn’t help but be confused. Sometimes he was paired up with someone for a mission, but it was usually with a lower-ranking sorcerer fishing for a promotion. And Choso knew very well that Yuki worked alone.

It must be one pesky curse, and Yuki must be very mad that the higher-ups don’t trust her ability to exorcise it on her own.

As Choso arrives in Osaka, a text from Yuki pops up.

Meet me here. We can get rid of this curse in an hour. That’s if I haven’t exorcised it already by the time you show up, the text reads, followed by an address that Choso recognizes from the file with information about the curse.

Well, it seems like Yuki didn’t get any less cocky in the past two years.

Maybe she’s right, and by the time he gets there, she will have exorcised it already. He doesn’t really have a problem with that—he will still get paid for the mission and won’t need to break a sweat.

He’s wrong, she’s wrong, they’re both terribly wrong, he realizes as he arrives at the abandoned building only to see the gigantic curse breaking through the windows and tossing Yuki up in the air. From Choso’s point of view, just at the barrier of the curtain she put up, he can see that she’s bloodied and bruised already.

Choso snaps into action, running toward the curse as Yuki lands on top of it. Using her shikigami Garuda, she drives a bone-breaking throw to the curse, which shrieks in pain but otherwise stays unharmed. Grabbing Yuki in one of its many hands, the curse throws her off its body, and Choso runs to catch her. The impact of her fall makes him fall too, and he slides back into the asphalt, wincing as he feels the burn on his back.

“Oh, hey, Choso,” Yuki looks up at him with a smile. “Thanks for catching me. Don’t worry, though, I got this.”

She gets up, and he gets to his feet as well.

“You don’t really look like you’ve got this,” Choso tells her as they walk toward the curse. “You’re bleeding.”

“Well, that’s what Reverse Cursed Technique is for!” Yuki tells him before she runs off and strikes a punch into the curse.

Choso sighs, remembering just how much of a nightmare it used to be going to missions with Yuki in high school. She believes she’s the strongest person in the world – and she might be – and throws herself into any situation without assessing for danger. Choso was more than used to dragging her to the infirmary before she managed to grasp the Reverse Cursed Technique, and that only aided her in not worrying about jumping into a curse’s mouth, ever.

“I really think we should coordinate our attacks, Yuki!” Choso shouts at her, trying to use his Piercing Blood but unable to do so because Yuki is jumping all over the curse and getting in his line of sight.

“I said I got it!” Yuki yells back, increasing her mass to punch the curse.

Choso rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. He watches Yuki getting tossed around and striking the curse for a while, both with her fists and feet and using Garuda. She’s limping at some point, but she still turns around to Choso and gives him a thumbs-up.

Choso knows Yuki is way too capable of exorcising the curse on her own. No curse or person stands a chance against her, and she would sooner die because of her carelessness than actually at the hands of someone stronger than her.

Which is why he lets her punch and kick the curse away, even if it’s a particularly stubborn one.

But when the curse throws her in the air and opens its gigantic mouth below her, Choso’s eyes widen.

“Yuki!” Choso screams out, before manipulating the blood from the blood bag he was carrying to slice the curse in a quick move.

The damage is not great; his intention was to slice its head off, but he only managed to deliver a deep cut. It was enough for the curse to writhe in pain and face Choso instead of Yuki, allowing her to land with a particularly strong punch on top of its head, and keep punching at it.

Choso takes note that Yuki is staying in one spot for once, and uses the opportunity to use Piercing Blood to deal many cuts to the curse’s body. Whenever Yuki moves, Choso redirects his hits to avoid her and, without exchanging any words about it, they work in unison.

When the curse is finally exorcised, they’ve both broken out a sweat, but Yuki is particularly beaten and bruised as she collapses on the ground next to Choso, watching the curse fade away into the air in small particles.

She’s catching her breath, and Choso knows her process well enough to know that she’s using Reverse Cursed Technique to heal her injuries as she catches her breath on the ground.

“Do you need any help?” Choso asks.

“Well, if you mastered healing since I last saw you, sure,” she chuckles, and the blood dripping from her nose is now sliding down her cheeks and into her hair.

“Nope, sorry.”

Soon enough, Yuki gets up from the floor, no longer bleeding or limping, but there’s still dried-up blood on her face and soaking her clothes. While Choso is wearing the black Jujutsu Tech uniform he always wears to missions, Yuki has a white t-shirt and denim pants that do very little to hide the blood stains.

“Well, let’s go,” she says, dropping the curtain and walking away.

Choso realizes that it’s nighttime already. He didn’t notice they had spent such a long time fighting the curse. Glancing at his clock, he sees that it’s past 7 p.m. already.

“Where are you going? There’s blood all over your face and your clothes,” Choso jogs to catch up with her long strides.

“I’m sure there will be a bathroom in the hotel room they booked,” Yuki shrugs. As the two of them walk back into busier streets, they catch the attention of many other pedestrians. Well, Yuki does.

“You’re not really going to walk into a hotel looking like this, are you?”

Yuki shoots Choso a wide grin. “Yeah, I will. What’s the matter with that?”

Choso sighs, shaking his head.

“Maybe we can find a public bathroom on the way,” he tells her.

Yuki scrunches up her nose, shaking her head. “Ew. No. Public bathrooms are gross.”

“Yuki, you are covered in blood,” Choso tries to reason with her. “They will think I tried to kill you or something.”

“I’m a paying costumer, the hotel people won’t mind. Well, it’s not me paying, it’s the higher-ups, but still,” she shrugs.

Choso pinches the bridge of his nose to alleviate his ever-growing migraine, sighing in defeat as he walks next to her. When they reach the hotel, sure enough, everyone is staring at Yuki with wide eyes and lips parted in shock.

“Hey, there. There should be a room booked under Tsukumo Yuki,” she smiles at the front desk woman. “Which is me. And another for Kamo Choso,” Yuki adds, pointing with her thumb at Choso.

“I… Are you okay, ma’am?” the front desk lady asks, her eyes wide in horror and confusion.

“I’m fantastic! How are you?”

The lady’s eyebrows rise up, and she stares at Yuki for a second, then at Choso, and back at Yuki. When her mind can’t make up how Yuki is so bloodied up and still standing up with a smile, she clears her throat and looks at the computer in front of her.

“I—Yes, I see a room for Tsukumo Yuki and Kamo Choso. It’s only one room, though,” she says, and Choso sighs.

“Well, another day, another fuck up by our bosses,” Yuki chuckles, making the front desk lady wonder just what the two of them work with. “Can you find another room for me? I’ll pay and get reimbursed later. Choso can keep the previous room.”

“Uh, no, we’re all booked, unfortunately. It’s Golden Week.”

Choso grunts. It is Golden Week, and everyone is traveling around. They shouldn’t be working either, but curses don’t take holidays off. It’s way too late to catch a flight or train back to Tokyo, too.

“Well, okay, we’ll take the room, then,” Yuki tells the lady, who nods and types for a while. They both give her their IDs, and soon she returns them with two key cards.

When Yuki reaches over to grab hers, the lady pauses, retreating her hand slightly. “Hm, Ms. Tsukumo, are you sure you are… okay? Okay with sharing the room?”

Her eyes gaze over at Choso before returning to Yuki. Of course, she thinks Choso is the reason why Yuki is all beaten up. I said this would happen, he thinks to himself.

“Oh, don’t worry, dear,” Yuki smiles, swinging her arm around Choso’s neck. “Choso here couldn’t hurt a fly. Well, I guess that’s not true. He does kill many flyheads, but he won’t hurt me,” and she leans into the front desk lady to say in a way-too-loud whisper that Choso still hears even though she puts her free hand up to hide her lips from his view, “And just between you and me, I’m way stronger than him.”

Choso rolls his eyes, and the lady smiles weakly, still very confused by the situation. Yuki takes the card and waves her goodbye, spinning on her heels toward the elevators. Choso follows her, and they get in the elevator, soon getting out on the 4 th floor.

Yuki whistles as she slides the key card into the door, opening it to reveal a relatively simple and small hotel room. As Choso walks in behind her, shutting the door, he quickly realizes that, through some clerical error on the higher-up’s side, they have not booked a double room, and there’s only one large bed.

Great, Choso thinks. I’ll have to sleep on the floor.

“Man, they don’t get tired of fucking up, do they?” Yuki chuckles, not at all as annoyed by the situation as Choso is. “Anyway, gonna take a shower. See if you can find some restaurant that delivers Thai food.”

She slams the bathroom door shut before Choso can say anything else. So he sighs, gets his phone from his pocket, and looks up Thai restaurants in Osaka, sitting down in one of the chairs facing a small round table in the corner of the room.

He finds a few and leaves the browser windows open as he mindlessly scrolls through his phone, wondering if he should write the report about the exorcism now or tomorrow when he gets home. He can hear Yuki singing in the shower, and he also hears it when she turns the water off.

She emerges from the bathroom door with a towel wrapped around her torso, and another on her hair. Choso looks away immediately, turning his head to the window behind him.

“Yuki,” Choso grits his teeth, even though his cheeks are slightly blushed at the brief sight of her bare legs.

“Mm? What?” Yuki asks, digging around her backpack for a change of clothes.

“You’re—Why didn’t you take your clothes to the bathroom with you?!” Choso is confused as to why she is confused.

“Oh, calm down, Choso, I have a towel on,” she rolls her eyes. “You’ve seen me wearing less than this.”

He had, indeed, seen Yuki parade around in a very small bikini whenever they had a mission in Okinawa during high school and spent their free time after exorcising the curse on the beach. That was four years ago, and Choso still refuses to acknowledge just for how long he stared at Yuki’s body when she wasn’t looking.

He doesn’t say anything back, but he keeps his face turned away until he hears the bathroom door slam shut again. Yuki emerges from it wearing a cropped tank top and loose pajama shorts, which probably cover less of her body than the towel did. He doesn’t need to look at her for long to tell that she isn’t wearing a bra either.

Choso has half a mind to lend her one of his sweatpants and t-shirts, but his thought process gets interrupted as she’s facing away from him, drying her hair with a towel while looking in the mirror and humming a tune. Her pajama shorts are so short that he can see the bottom of her ass cheeks poking out of them, and whatever words he had to say get stuck in his throat.

She speaks up, making Choso clear his throat and divert his gaze from her ass quickly.

“Well, did you find any restaurants?”

*

After Choso showers and they’re done eating, Choso says that they should write the report on the mission, to which Yuki immediately shakes her head.

“You can do that tomorrow on the trip back to Tokyo, or when you get home. That’s what I’m going to do,” she says, stretching her arms above her head.

“It would be best if we wrote it together, so we are telling the same story,” Choso says, trying to make his point even though he knows it is useless to try to convince Yuki to do something she doesn’t want to do.

“Don’t worry, I’ll send you my version before I submit it,” Yuki gets up from her seat on the table, going to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

Choso sighs, admitting his defeat, knowing he will have to write his report and then rewrite Yuki’s whenever she sends it to him. He stacks up the boxes of take-out Thai food and tosses them in the trash.

When Yuki leaves the bathroom, Choso goes in and brushes his teeth as well, before going back to the bedroom. Yuki is lying under the covers of the bed and scrolling on her phone. She’s on the left side of the bed, and there’s plenty of space next to her, but Choso still takes the pillow that she isn’t using and tosses it into the carpeted floor.

Well, at least it’s carpeted, he thinks as he grabs the extra throw blanket at the end of the bed. It’s more for decoration than to actually tuck yourself in with, and he doubts he will be able to cover even a third of his body with it, but it is what it is.

“What are you doing?” Yuki asks, propping herself on her elbow to look over as Choso sits on the floor.

“Going to sleep.”

“On the floor?”

“Well, where else? They booked the room wrong, there is no bed for me,” Choso says, spreading the small blanket over his legs.

“There is a bed. We can share it,” Yuki says, tapping the space on her side.

“It’s fine, Yuki. Just go to sleep,” Choso sighs, rubbing his eyes.

Yuki huffs. “Choso. We are adults. We can sleep in the same bed. Last time I checked, my parents aren’t here to tell me no boys are allowed in my bedroom.”

Choso rolls his eyes. “Yuki—”

“Get in the bed, Choso. We can put a pillow between us if that will make you feel like more of a gentleman.”

He knows it’s useless to argue with her. Stubborn and set in her ways, Yuki will continue to pester him for the entire night if he doesn’t get on the bed, and then he really won’t be able to sleep.

So he sighs as he gets up, grabbing the pillow but leaving the throw blanket on the floor. It was useless anyway. He plops down by her side but remains over the covers.

“Happy?” Choso asks, and Yuki smirks.

“Plenty.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. She really hasn’t changed one bit since high school.

Well, except she has. Her face is more mature, and her body is even curvier, which he noticed whenever she was drying her hair and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her ass.

He’s just glad she’s under the covers by this point, and he doesn’t need to avert his gaze from her long, muscular legs.

“Did you have fun today?” Yuki asks, abandoning her phone to turn to her side, bending her elbow, and resting her chin on her hand as she faces Choso.

“Fun?” He looks at her. She nods, and he huffs. “No, I didn’t have fun fighting an annoying curse during a holiday.”

“Oh, come on, it was fun. Like old times, right? You and me against some smelly, pesky curse.”

He glances at her again, and she has a smile on her face, conveying just how true her words are to her feelings.

“Yeah, just like old times. You almost getting swallowed by a curse and finishing the mission covered in blood even though I am the one with a blood manipulation technique,” Choso says, and Yuki laughs loudly.

“Well, at least you didn’t have to drag me while I was knocked out to the infirmary,” she says with a smile.

“I was happier when you unlocked the Reverse Cursed Technique than when I found out how to turn my blood into poison,” Choso chuckles.

“Was I that much of a pain in the ass?” Yuki asks.

Choso shakes his head slightly with a smile. “You still are, Tsukumo.”

Yuki smiles at the memory of when they first started out at Jujutsu Tech. Choso wouldn’t call her by her first name, even though she repeatedly told him that he could abandon the honorifics and the respectful tone. She called him Choso from the first day.

Choso found that weird at the time, because she didn’t have a problem with anyone else referring to her by her last name and using honorifics. She had even mentioned one time how nice it was to be respected and appreciated, which she deserved since she is a special grade. He never really understood why Yuki wanted him to call her by her first name, but she pressed him enough about it that he started doing it, even if it felt weird.

“Do you miss those days?” Yuki snaps him out of his train of thought.

“High school?” He asks, and she nods. “I don’t know. I guess. Things were simpler back then.”

“I miss it a lot,” Yuki says, making him look over at her. “Not necessarily being in school, but, you know.”

Choso frowns at that. “You were always complaining that the classes weren’t hard enough and you were bored by them. Why do you miss it?”

Yuki bites her bottom lip as she smiles, looking at Choso.

“I don’t know, Choso, why do you think?”

He continues to frown at her, all too confused. “How am I supposed to know?”

“Well,” she chuckles. “Guess.”

Choso stares up at the ceiling for a bit, thinking back to high school. Yuki thought the classes were annoying, and it’s not like she doesn’t still go on missions these days – she’s a jujutsu sorcerer, after all.

“I don’t know,” Choso says, looking back at Yuki, who had a sly smile on her face. “Maybe you miss fighting lower-graded curses that were easier to kill?”

Yuki laughs loudly, and Choso is still confused, and wondering what was funny about his attempt at guessing.

“God, Choso,” she shakes her head. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

His brows are knitted together as he stares at her. “What do you mean?”

“You are just as clueless as you were in high school,” Yuki smiles, her fingers tracing the duvet on top of her.

“What? I’m not clueless,” Choso says, defensively.

Yuki realizes that even after being thrown with her on a mission, having to walk with her as she’s bloodied and bruised through the streets of Osaka, being put in the same hotel room as her, and having to accept that she won’t write the damn report, the only thing she has done today that Choso actually took offense to was her calling him clueless.

“You are,” Yuki chuckles. “It’s okay, though. It’s quite charming.”

“Why do you think I’m clueless?” Choso ignores her backhanded compliment.

Yuki sighs, but there is still a smile on her lips. “Choso, why do you think we were partnered in all those missions in high school?”

“Because we were in the same year,” he says, matter-of-factly.

“That might’ve been true in the first year, I suppose,” Yuki hums. “But after that, the higher-ups already knew I was plenty capable of going on missions on my own.”

Choso narrows his eyes at her. “Is this an elaborate way of you getting to say that you needed to babysit me because you’re a special grade and I’m not?”

“No, it’s not,” she laughs.

“Then what are you getting at, Yuki?”

She smiles. “Guess.”

Choso sighs, and he runs a hand down his face, exhausted from the back and forth. “Okay. I’m going to sleep.”

“No!” Yuki laughs, grabbing Choso’s arm as he makes a motion to turn and face away from her. “Come on. Indulge me a little, won’t you? Why do you think we kept getting paired up in high school, Choso?”

He feels the skin on his bicep warm up under her touch, and he shakes off the feeling, but he doesn’t turn away from her. He does, in fact, just want to go to sleep right now, and even if she just said it’s not a way for her to brag, it does feel like this is where the conversation is heading.

“I don’t know, Yuki. Probably because you had no sense of self-preservation and you threw yourself in danger, and someone had to be there to make sure you didn’t die,” Choso says. He wants to add that that hasn’t changed—just from what he saw today, she is still as careless in battle as she was in high school.

Yuki chuckles, and her thumb rubs circles on Choso’s bicep. He doesn’t know why she’s touching him, and why she hasn’t pulled her hand away yet, but he doesn’t complain. Her fingers are calloused from training and fighting, but her touch is still gentle on his skin.

“No, but that was a good guess,” Yuki breathes out. “Did you never wonder why I would get the files on the missions before you did?”

Choso sighs, looking at her. “Please just tell me what you’re trying to say, Yuki.”

She smirks. “Where’s the fun in that?”

He remembers her little games from high school too well. Even though she seemed to be very straight up with everyone else around her, Yuki would always tease, poke, and prod Choso, as if she always testing his patience, trying to find his breaking point.

“The fun in it is me not getting a migraine from this conversation,” Choso says, staring away from her and at the ceiling.

Yuki chuckles, and she squeezes his bicep slightly, making his muscles tense up.

“Fine, I’ll tell you why,” Yuki, for the first time in her life, gives in. Even Choso is surprised that she’s not keeping the charade up, and he looks at her and waits for the answer. “You got the files on the missions late because I would get assigned to go alone, and then,” her hand abandons his bicep, only for her to trace her finger through the outline of his veins. “I would tell the higher-ups I would only do it if you were assigned to it as well.”

Choso stares at her for a second and then narrows his eyes. “Are you messing with me right now?”

“I’m not,” she smiles. “Promise.”

He bites the inside of his cheek, sure that Yuki isn’t lying, but still unclear on her motives or why she was bringing this up after so long.

“Why? Why did you want to be paired up with me when you could do it alone?” Choso asks.

Yuki’s smile grows wider, and she shakes her head. “This is what I’m talking about. Clueless.”

Choso huffs, his patience wearing thin. If she was still trying to find his breaking point, she was damn near close. “Yuki. Explain.”

Yuki chuckles, and she traces her finger up his arm and to his shoulder. Choso can’t help the goosebumps that erupt from his skin, even if she’s touching him over his t-shirt. “I asked to be paired up with you because I liked being around you. And I thought if we spent more time together alone, then… I don’t know, maybe the occasion would arise for us to do something else other than exorcising curses.”

It's probably the first time Yuki has been completely honest with him, without her charades and little games, Choso realizes. At her confession, he feels his body warm up, and his stomach is doing twists and turns.

“What… What type of occasion?” Choso is not that clueless, and he’s picking up what she’s putting down, but he also wants to hear it from her. Hear everything. So he will know that the pull and attraction he felt for Yuki all throughout high school wasn’t as one-sided as he thought it was.

“I didn’t have anything specific in mind. Maybe we would defeat a really annoying curse, and we would be filled with adrenaline and make out. Maybe you would be relieved after I almost died by jumping at a curse with no backup plan, and you would kiss me. Maybe…” Yuki’s fingers trace Choso’s collarbones, but her eyes are on his, a hint of a smile on her lips. “Maybe the higher-ups would fuck up and put us in the same hotel room after a mission, and there would only be one bed.”

Choso can feel his heart trying to break free from his ribcage, and his chest is rising and falling at a rapid rate. His cheeks are flushed as he stares at her with his lips parted slightly, unable to process all the information she just gave him.

“It’s on me, though. I knew you were clueless from day one, and I thought I was being obvious with my efforts to seduce you, but I should’ve just jumped your bones and kissed you when I had the opportunity, instead of waiting for you to make a move,” Yuki chuckles, her palm laying flat on his chest.

Choso’s mouth feels dry, but he still swallows anyway. “I didn’t… I didn’t know you were interested in me.”

“See? Clueless,” she laughs. “I was all over you, Choso. I flirted with you all the time. I don’t even like wearing skirts, but I changed my summer uniform to a skirt so you could stare at my ass during missions. And so it would be easier if you, you know, eventually decided to fuck me against a wall or something.”

Choso’s cheeks burn brighter at her admission and the fact that she knew that he had, indeed, been staring at her ass during missions.

He sighs deeply, trying to settle down his breathing, still staring at her. “Wish you had said something back then. Well, maybe you did and I didn’t catch it. Maybe I am as clueless as you say I am.”

“Well, I’m saying something now,” Yuki drops her head slightly, just a tad closer to him, her words and tone challenging him. “Are you going to do something about it? Or do I need to do everything?”

Completely overwhelmed by the thoughts of what could’ve happened in high school if he had picked up on her interest in him, and the tension in the air, Choso allows himself to be taken by the adrenaline that is coursing through his veins, and he raises his hand up to Yuki’s hair, tugging her down to his level until he crashes his lips against hers.

She’s smiling against his lips, even as he swipes his tongue through her bottom lip, making her part her mouth slightly to meet his tongue in a heated, desperate embrace. She hums against his mouth, satisfied that, after five years, he’s finally kissing her.

He tastes the minty toothpaste in her mouth and lets out a breath that he feels like he’s been holding since he first met her five years ago in high school. Kissing her feels nice; her lips are plump against his, her hair is soft in his hand, and her tongue moves against his in a way that sends shivers up his spine.

Choso had stopped himself from wondering if this would happen in high school, sure that Yuki didn’t correspond with his feelings back then. But she did. She had just been waiting for him to take the first step, an effort of patience that goes against everything he knew and thought about Yuki.

And while he would be satisfied with just kissing her for the rest of the night, Yuki seems to have different plans, as her hand goes down his chest and torso, and slides underneath his t-shirt, touching his toned abs and making his muscles tense up and relax under her touch.

Her hand dives down once more, to his sweatpants, groping his length as it hardens under her touch. Choso grunts against her lips as she palms him over the fabric, and his hand slides down from her hair to her neck, continuing to slide lower until he can touch her tits over her tank top. Her nipples are perked, and when he slides his thumb over one of them, she moans softly into his mouth.

Yuki’s hand goes under his sweatpants and wraps around his cock, tugging up and down slowly. She chuckles against his lips, making him frown. Why is she laughing? Why is she laughing when she just grabbed his cock for the first time in their lives?

“What?” Choso asks, pulling away slightly from her lips, trying not to be offended at her amusement and its implications.

“Hm, I just realized why you chose such baggy pants for your uniform,” she says, crashing her lips against his again before he can tell her to elaborate. Not that he needs to; he’s not that clueless.

He slides her tank top strap down her arm, allowing him to pull the fabric down to reveal her chest as they both softly moan and hum against each other’s tongues. Yuki tugs his sweatpants down, and his cock slaps up and rests on his abs. She retreats her hand to tug the comforter down and off her body.

Choso doesn’t allow himself to overthink the situation and instead reaches his hand down until he’s cupping her cunt over her pajama shorts. Yuki moans lowly as he palms her harder, pressing his fingers on her clit. At her positive reaction to his moves, he slides his hand up and under her shorts, finding out that she’s not wearing any underwear. As his fingers slide through her wet core, his cock twitches in her hand, and she smiles as her thumb presses down on his tip, smearing his precum around.

His fingers touch her gently, sliding from her entrance to her clit, rubbing soft circles on top of it and making lewd sounds slip from her mouth.

“You know, as much as I imagined this,” Yuki says, reaching her hand down to cup and massage his balls. “And I thought I would take my time, give you a blowjob, maybe sit on your face, but,” she wraps her hand around his length again, and he moans at both her movements and her words. “I have about five years worth of sexual frustration right now, and I just want to feel your cock inside me.”

 Choso grunts as Yuki moves quickly and straddles him. She looks up at her, one of his hands still inside her shorts, rubbing her clit slowly. Her tank top is bunched at her waist, putting her huge tits on display as she sits on his thighs. Her cheeks are flushed and her lips are bright pink from kissing him.

She keeps running her hand up and down his cock, her movements tempting and slow, and she tilts her head as she looks down at him. “Is that okay with you, Choso? Can we skip the foreplay? I’m sure we can squeeze in some time for that whenever we meet again.”

Yuki gives a particularly harsh tug on his cock, and he grunts.

“T-That’s… That’s fine,” he breathes out, and she smiles.

She sits up on her knees, abandoning his cock to slide her shorts down, maneuvering on top of him to take them off her body.

“Realistically, I should do some prep to be able to take your cock, but,” she grinds her hips against his, her folds spreading as she slides up and down his length, covering it on her wetness and making him grip her hips tightly. “I don’t mind a little pain.”

Choso is speechless, and he thinks at some point he’s going to wake up and realize this is all a wild dream, and in reality, he just got knocked out during a mission. It wouldn’t be the first time he dreamed of Yuki on top of him.

Yuki lifts her hips up, grabbing the base of his cock and angling it upwards. She presses the tip against her entrance, and Choso huffs as she slides down slowly, feeling her cunt twitch and stretch to accommodate him.

Her brows are furrowed and her lips are parted as her ass meets his hips, and Choso is having a hard time breathing, the feeling of her tight pussy around his cock way too good to be real. His eyes rest on hers as she slowly starts to move her hips around, whimpers and moans filling up the silence in the room.

“Damn, Choso,” she chuckles breathlessly, grinding against him as she gets used to his size. “Maybe I shouldn’t have skipped the foreplay.”

Choso’s eyes widen slightly at that, and he sits up on the bed, his hand going to her back. “Are you in pain? Is this too much? Get off, it’s okay, we don’t have to do this.”

Yuki chuckles, lacing her arms around his neck and kissing him, silencing his rambling and making his hands fall back to her hips.

“It’s not too much,” Yuki says, her teeth grazing Choso’s bottom lip. “It’s just enough.”

With that, she lifts her hips slightly, only to slam them back down, making both her and Choso moan loudly. She repeats her movements, falling into a steady pace of slowly sliding Choso’s cock almost completely out of her cunt, just to slam down into his length once again.

“It’s kind of perfect, actually,” she says, between moans. “Don’t you think so?”

“Fuck, Yuki,” Choso grunts, squeezing her hips each time she goes back down.

“Tell me, Choso,” she hums, running her hand through his hair and tugging on it. “Is this how you imagined it in high school? When you would pretend it was my pussy around your cock, rather than your own hand?”

A shaky breath leaves Choso’s lips, and Yuki increases the speed of her movements, moaning when she feels his cock press against her sweet spot.

He doesn’t answer her, and she knows that’s a confirmation, so she continues, “Because this is exactly what I imagined when I would fuck myself with my fingers or my toys, trying to picture it was your cock inside me, but knowing nothing would match the feeling of you.”

She feels his cock twitch inside her, and she smiles as she picks up more speed, making Choso mumble curses and moan softly. Her hands go to his chest, and she pushes him back on the bed, his head falling against the pillow.

His hands go from her hips to her ass, and he squeezes her cheeks tightly.

“You can spank them if you’d like,” Yuki remarks, leaning her hands on his chest to stabilize herself as her hips go up and down. “I know you’ve been staring at them since I put those shorts on. Well, since high school, actually.”

Choso huffs, feeling his cheeks burn brighter with the acknowledgment that Yuki noticed his gaze on her ass earlier in the day.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says, but his hands are still squeezing her ass cheeks firmly.

“I told you I don’t mind a little pain,” she says with a smile, slightly out of breath from both her movements and the way Choso’s cock was filling her up. “Plus, you can’t hurt me. I’m way stronger than you are.”

Choso glares at her in slight annoyance, and, without thinking too much about it, his hand smacks her ass. Not with all his strength, even if she is way stronger than he is, but just enough for the loud smack to echo through the room.

Yuki moans with his slap, and her walls flutter around his cock, making him groan. He repeats it, smacking her other ass cheek this time, just to feel her clench around him, and he willingly has to stop himself from coming now and then.

“God, Yuki,” he moans, getting desperate.

His hands pull her torso against his until their chests are flush against each other’s, and he wraps an arm around her back, while his other hand goes back to her ass. His hips start shooting up and down, fucking her mercilessly fast and deep. Yuki moans loudly, tossing her head back as she feels him hit her g-spot repeatedly.

“Oh, y-yes, Choso,” she moans, stuttering through her words as the coil on her lower stomach feels ever-so-close to snapping. “Fuck, that’s—That’s it, don’t stop.”

He wasn’t planning on stopping, not with how close he was, and especially not with the sounds Yuki was making and how her walls were clenching slightly around him.

“Fuck, Choso—” Yuki’s lips part in a silent gasp and she digs her nails into Choso’s shoulders, feeling her orgasm electrify her body from the top of her head to her toes.

She’s clenching and gripping him so tight that even if Choso wanted—and he doesn’t—he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from coming. He only manages to pull off his cock quickly from inside her, and as soon as he does, he cums, spurting his semen onto his stomach and hers with a ragged moan.

They are both a mess as they ride their orgasms, and Yuki doesn’t seem to mind his cum on her skin, because she collapses on top of him, trying to steady her breathing. She rolls off him a few moments later, laying on her back by his side.

It seems she is still trying to rein back in her breathing when Choso looks over at her, and he promptly gets a few tissues from the box on the nightstand next to him, cleaning up the cum on his stomach. He gets a few more tissues and turns to Yuki, cleaning her up carefully as his mind wanders for a bit, looking at her state. Her eyes are closed, her cheeks are flushed bright pink, her lips are parted, her hair is disheveled and her hips are marked red from his hands gripping them.

It's everything he ever dreamed of in high school, but that’s not what is on his mind at that second.

“Yuki,” Choso calls her.

“Hmm?” She doesn’t open her eyes.

“Was it… was it really the higher-ups’ fault that we got sent to the same hotel room with only one bed?”

“Ugh,” she groans and runs her hand down her face before leaning back on her chair. “These artists are so fucking stuck up! No one wants to compromise. I have such a clear idea in my head of how the exhibition should be, and I don’t think it’s going to turn out that way. It’s so fucking frustrating.”

Choso nods, pulling another chair and sitting next to her. “What is your vision?”

“I want to explore the challenges and realities of being a woman nowadays and in different societies and cultures. The exhibition is called ‘Weaving Womanhood: Threads Across Societies’. I’ve talked to a lot of artists who have made brilliant works on this topic, but… some of them… ugh,” she groans again and rubs her eyes. “It’s always like this. I get it, we are a small gallery, it’s not so attractive for big artists to showcase their work there. It’s why I prefer to work with smaller artists as well.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sure it will turn out great, though,” Choso gives her a reassuring half-smile and takes a look at her desk. “Have you eaten today?”

“I…” Yuki tries to recall her day. “No, I don’t think I have.”

Choso puffs his cheeks. She hadn’t eaten in the past two days either when he arrived home. He always cooks her dinner, but he can’t do much about the other meals. “You have to eat, Yuki.”

“I know, I’m just so busy I forget. I’m not trying not to eat, things are just hectic right now,” she sighs.

“I’m going to make some dinner,” he says, leaning over to kiss her forehead and getting up from his seat. She gives him a weak smile as he walks away.

Yuki keeps working as he cooks, and she loses track of time, but she does notice that it’s taking unusually long for dinner to be ready. Choso is a great cook, but he’s also a fast cook, and it’s been nearly two hours when he finally announces that the meal is on the table.

She gets up and walks to the dining room, seeing the takikomi gohan he made for dinner, but Choso isn’t there, and she sees him in the kitchen.

“Come here,” he calls her, and she makes her way to him.

Her eyebrows shoot up as she sees rows of containers of various sizes lined up on the kitchen counter.

“What’s all this?” Yuki asks.

Choso slides his arm around her waist. “I made extra of the takikomi so you can have some for lunch tomorrow. And I made some onigiri for you to snack on throughout the day, and I’m going to wake up earlier tomorrow and make tamagoyaki for you to eat for breakfast when you wake up. Also, I brought you a pastry for dessert, as usual.”

Yuki is torn between a smile and a pout, and her eyes are glistening with adoration and tears at the heartfelt gesture. She turns to face Choso and wraps her arms around his neck, leaning in to kiss him gently.

“This is so sweet, Choso. I love you so, so much,” she whispers against his lips, still smiling.

“I love you more,” he says.

“I think that’s impossible,” she chuckles.

It became their little game. One says they love the other more, and the other says they find it impossible. They say it to each other practically every day.

“Can’t let the love of my life starve to death,” Choso says, kissing Yuki once more. “Come on, let’s have dinner before it gets cold.”

Yuki happily eats the prepared food throughout the following days, and Choso is glad to see that she doesn’t look as pale or tired when he gets home, even if she is still just as busy.

“So,” Yuki starts as they are eating dinner on a Thursday, three days before the exhibition. “It seems that in my ever-so-organized organization, I’ve neglected an important detail of the event.”

“Mm, which one? Are you in big trouble?” Choso asks after taking a bite of some of the tonkatsu he made for dinner.

He makes note of Yuki’s smile. For someone who forgot something about an event that is stressing her out so much, she seems rather relaxed and chirpy.

“The catering,” Yuki says, her smile growing wider, and then she sighs dramatically and looks away. “If only there were a hot baker who owns a patisserie who could help me and save the day…”

Choso has an amused half smile on his face as he chews on his food. “Yeah, if only. Maybe put an ad up or something.”

Yuki pouts, leaning back on her chair and crossing her arms. “Aren’t you going to offer yourself and be so very happy that I’m giving you the opportunity to work with me?”

“I dunno, I’m the one saving the day, aren’t I?” he teases her. “Maybe… Maybe you should beg.”

Yuki’s mouth falls open in shock as she stares at him. “Beg?”

“Yup.”

His teasing smile is enough to make Yuki smile as well. It seems like it’s payback time, one way or another.

She leans in across the table, a sly smile on her lips, her eyes half-lidded, and her tone sultry as she says, “Please, baby. Please, help me out. I’ll do anything to pay you back. Anything.”

Choso’s own lips part slightly, and he can’t help how her words and low tone make his blood rush both to his cheeks and his crotch. “Y-Yeah. Sure.”

Yuki chuckles, leaning back on her seat and taking another bite of her dinner.

“Pleasure doing business with you, chef.”

The night of the exhibition, Choso and Yuki are getting ready, but they get slightly sidetracked when Yuki sees Choso wearing a suit. It’s a black two-piece suit, perfectly tailored, the one that he uses every time for catering. He still has to put his tie on, but other than that, he’s more or less ready, whilst Yuki is still in her robe and has only done her hair in a stylish updo.

“Fuck,” she says, biting her bottom lip. “You look hot as fuck in a suit. Might make you wear one every day.”

Choso chuckles, but his laughter is interrupted when she closes the space between them, her hands going to his neck and hair and pressing her lips to his in a passionate kiss. He kisses her back immediately, and just as hungrily as she is. The sight of her just wearing a silk robe with nothing underneath does wonders to his mind.

Their tongues meet in a fiery clash as Yuki’s hands travel lower through his torso to his pants, and she palms his bulge, making him grunt as his own hands go to her ass, squeezing her flesh over her robe. His boner grows under her hand as she massages it, their lips and tongues moving in sync.

She takes off his belt and undoes his pants, and they fall at his ankles. Sliding her hand inside his boxer briefs and pulling his cock out. He moans at her touch, her movements anything but gentle as she jerks him off.

When he moves his hand to her front to try to repay her, she shakes her head, still kissing him. “I’m good. Don’t worry about me, baby.”

He nods slightly, one of his hands raising to her neck, careful not to mess up her hair, to deepen their kiss even more. Her hand stays wrapped around his cock, pumping it at an increasing pace, and she only stops and parts their kiss to spit on her hand to make the process easier. Choso moans at the feeling of her spit-covered hand sliding and tugging on his cock.

He’s moaning and grunting the entire time against her lips, huffing and puffing curses, and he’s close to coming when Yuki’s phone alarm rings, and she stops her ministrations completely, making him sigh.

At this point in their relationship, roughly five months in, he is somewhat used to being edged and denied of his orgasms already. Well, as used as one can be. Doesn’t make it any less painful and frustrating, though.

“Mm, gotta get ready or gonna be late,” Yuki says, her hand abandoning his cock and turning around to go to her vanity.

Choso, albeit used to the treatment, is also used to Yuki still allowing him to cum at the end of the night—or day, or afternoon, or whatever time they are going at it—, so being denied completely makes him whine. “Yuki, please.”

She looks back at him with a sly smile, and then pouts. “Aw, my poor baby. Okay, come here. Sit down.”

She nods at the chair in front of her vanity, and Choso walks over to it, his pants still bunched at his ankles. He sits down, and Yuki lifts up her robe, sitting on his lap but facing with her back to his chest. She lowers herself down on his cock, and he breathes out shakily at her warm cunt enveloping him.

His hands go to her hips once she is fully sat on his cock, and he makes a move to grind his hips against hers, but she presses her hips down further.

“I didn’t tell you to move. Stay still. I need to do my makeup,” she says, her tone so calm and even that you couldn’t even tell there is a cock inside her cunt.

She starts doing her makeup, and Choso is flabbergasted and dizzy from how horny he is and how badly he wants to move.

Yuki feels his cock twitch inside her, and his hands squeeze her hips tighter, and she gives him a warning glare through the mirror. “You better not make me mess up my eyeliner.”

Choso breathes out shakily and throws his head back while squeezing his eyes shut, careful not to make any brisk movements. She feels so warm and tight around him. He supposes this isn’t the worst of Yuki’s tortures, and it actually feels pretty nice after the pain of being denied fades away. Just being inside her while she does something as menial as doing her makeup, acting like his cock isn’t even inside her.

As if she can tell he’s enjoying his too much, she starts contracting her cunt periodically, just to give him a taste of what it would feel like to actually be fucking her and not just be sitting inside her, and it starts to drive him insane after the fourth or fifth time. She’s applying mascara when she does it again, and Choso grunts and huffs.

“Yuki, remember that time when you said you would do anything if I helped you with the catering?” he asks, his voice pained.

Yuki smiles. “I do remember that. Why, is there something you want, baby?”

“Please let me cum,” he pleads, looking at her through her vanity mirror. “Please make me cum.”

Yuki laughs, amused at his desperation. “This is how you want to cash that in?”

Choso nods, and she smirks.

“Alright. No coming inside of me, though, I can’t have your cum running down my thighs and staining my outfit tonight. But you can cum in my mouth so you don’t make a mess of your outfit,” she talks as if she’s drawing a contract, and as she finishes speaking, she puts down the mascara wand and starts moving her hips up and down.

She drags them up until he’s almost completely out of her, and slams them down until she can almost feel him in her throat. Yuki moans, and Choso is not far behind, groaning with each of her movements and shooting his hips up to meet hers.

There’s no time to make this sweet and slow, or they will be late, and they both seem to know that without saying anything about it because they both take no time to increase the pace of their movements—Yuki bouncing on his cock faster and Choso thrusting up in the same speed.

He’s sensitive from the last forty minutes he spent inside Yuki’s cunt with no movement, plus his last ruined orgasm and it takes no time for his next one to build up.

“God, fuuuck, Choso,—feels so good, baby,” Yuki moans, her gaze locking with his through the mirror. “Does it feel good? Are you going to cum in my mouth, baby?”

He moans, his hips moving even more haphazardly against hers then, chasing his release, which soon comes crashing.

“Fuck, Yuki—gonna cum,” he groans, and Yuki slips his cock out of her, immediately getting on her knees between his legs and starts pumping his cock with her hand.

“Come on, baby, be a good boy and cum for me,” Yuki says before enveloping his tip with her lips and taking her other hand to massage his balls, all the while her eyes are still connected to his.

With a hoarse moan, Choso cums, spilling loads of his semen into Yuki’s mouth, and she swallows every last bit of it, not letting a single bit escape her lips—she doesn’t want to ruin her makeup, and she will already need to reapply her lipstick, which now left a mark around the tip of Choso’s cock.

After he’s done and his cock grows flaccid in her mouth, she still laps up around his tip, just to see him squirm from the overstimulation, but she quickly retracts and puts him back into his underwear. She looks up at him with a little smile. “Satisfied?”

He looks completely fucked out of his mind, only able to give her a slight nod.

“You know, I expected you to make better use of that IOU. But, you know, your choice. Now let me finish getting ready,” she tells him, sitting on his lap again and finishing her makeup before putting her outfit on so they could go to the exhibition.

Even though Yuki insisted on paying for the catering service, Choso refused. He still recruits the entire bakery team and a few other waiters to work the day of to make sure everything runs smoothly, and he also works serving the attendees and artists whilst simultaneously making sure everything is okay in the kitchen with his employees. He’s wearing a uniform consisting of a black suit and a bowtie, but he ditches the dress shoes for his black combat boots.

Yuki, in turn, is in an outfit that Choso thinks covers more of her body than he thinks he’s ever seen her wear, with the exception of pajamas and stay-at-home outfits. It’s also the most formal outfit he’s ever seen her in.

It’s a two-piece oversized two-piece suit in a cerulean shade. The blazer, buttoned in a relaxed cut, is single-breasted with notched lapels, creating a soft V-neck silhouette with no shirt underneath. The pants are a perfect match both in shade and fit, tailored to fall smoothly from under the blazer to the hem with subtle tapering towards the ankles, a fluid fabric that compliments the relaxed fit of the blazer.

On her feet, she goes for a pair of chunky white sneakers, and she accessorizes the outfit with gold hoops and a small, structured white handbag.

Truthfully, Choso should’ve been at the event much earlier to oversee the preparation of everything regarding the catering, but Yuki argued that she would be arriving early enough to oversee the preparation of everything regarding everything, so they should be fine arriving together.

But even when they do arrive, Choso is immediately dragged by Yuki to meet her coworkers and best friends.

Yuki introduces Choso to Haruna, her boss, the gallery’s Director. She’s in her late forties, tall—though not taller than Yuki—and as refined as they come, with a sleek bob of jet-black hair that highlights her keen, onyx eyes.

Then there is Kanae, the Exhibition Designer, a woman in her mid-thirties, though she doesn’t look a day over twenty-five. She’s petite and energetic, with wavy hair dyed in a soft chestnut brown, the same shade as her eyes.

And, finally, Naka, the Conservator. She’s in her early twenties and carries herself with an aura of calmness that irradiates to those around her. Her auburn hair is usually pulled back into a neat bun at work, but today, it is styled into a stylish low bun with a few strands framing her face.

Choso shakes all of their hands and then watches Yuki go over her checklist to make sure everything is in order for the event to start, and he’s more preoccupied with her dragging him everywhere than with his actual part in the event. Luckily, his team has it under control, and not much needs his overseeing.

Choso is stunned by the numerous artworks decorating the walls, varying in sizes and styles. He doesn’t understand enough about art to draw educated conclusions from them or the way they are arranged, but he knows that they evoke feelings deeper than just pleasantness from the aesthetic. The art is thought-provoking, and even if the theme of the exhibition is about the female struggle, he is still shaken by it.

When the event does start, he is happily surprised to see a large crowd filtering into the small gallery. He goes toward the back room to grab something to serve but is quickly stopped by Yuki, who grabs his arm and pulls him into a group of people. She proudly introduces him as her boyfriend and the culinary genius behind the catering for the night.

He was a blushing mess from all the compliments regarding the food, and was trying to dismiss them and turn back the attention to Yuki and the exhibition, but people seem really interested in the young baker. At least for a bit, and then they go back to talking about art and complimenting Yuki on the pristine and incredible event.

Yuki doesn’t let go of Choso’s arm for a second, jumping from group to group, introducing him again and again, repeating the process throughout the entire night through countless champagne flutes, canapés, and small chocolate éclairs and strawberry tartelettes.

When the night is over, it seems like a repeat of the bakery’s anniversary event because Yuki is positively buzzed, and Choso is positively drained from all the social interaction.

“That went so well! God, I’m so glad I didn’t wear heels,” Yuki twirls around on the empty sidewalk after locking the front door of the gallery.

Choso chuckles at her drunk antics as they get into a taxi, and Yuki immediately falls asleep on his shoulder despite her energy not two seconds ago, only waking up when they arrive home. By then, her energy is drained as well, and she is all but dragging her feet to the apartment, but Choso still stops her when she makes a move to go to the bedroom.

“I saved you something,” he says. “If you still have room in your stomach for one more pastry.”

Yuki smiles—a drunk, sly, half-smile. “Always have room for one of your pastries, baby.”

Choso smiles, too, and goes to the kitchen. Yuki follows him and sits down at one of the stools in front of the counter, and he brings the pastry to her. Yuki thinks it looks a little like the religiouse Choso has made previously for her, but it’s not the same.

The base is a light golden-brown sponge cake, with its bottom half dipped in rich, glossy dark chocolate and the upper half having a ribbed pattern that wraps around its circumference. On top of it, there is a swirl of airy mousse in a light beige color, spiraled with precision and lightly dusted for a touch of elegance. A golden decoration that looks almost like a potato chip, delicately thin and crisp, sits atop the mousse like a feather, adding a textural crunch to the pastry.

“Good job on the exhibition. You killed it,” Choso gives her a warm smile as he sits down next to her and offers her a fork, and Yuki smiles back at him.

“Thank you. What is this?”

“It’s called a miss croisette. The base is a caramel-infused sponge cake dipped in dark chocolate,” Choso says as Yuki takes the first bite, not even waiting for him to finish his explanation as usual. Apparently, all the little snacks throughout the night were not enough to satisfy her. “On top, there is a caramel mousse, and the chip-like thing is called a tuile. It’s also made out of caramel and adds some texture and crunch. Never made one, but I thought I would give it a try and make something special for you to celebrate the event going successfully. Do you like it?”

Yuki nods fervently, picking the tuile out and taking a bite out of it. “S’fucking good.”

Choso chuckles. She’s not any less drunk than she was before her nap in the cab, and he doubts she would have a different reaction if he put anything else for her to eat in front of her.

“What’s the story?” Yuki asks with a smile, their little ritual already solidified.

“Hm, it’s a more contemporary dish, not very traditional. Might’ve been named after La Croisette, a famous boulevard in Cannes. Not much is known about it, honestly.”

“Not Parisian? Scandalous. We might have to broaden our honeymoon destination,” she smirks, and he chuckles, nodding and resting his hand on top of hers, his thumb caressing the ring he gave her on her finger.

“Yeah. Maybe a whole Europe itinerary would be better,” he says, looking at her ring, then looking back up at her. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Choso smiles. “I think that’s impossible.”

*

On the first day, they looked for it everywhere. On the second day, Yuki cursed God and everyone in the world for losing it. On the third day, she tried going over what she did and what she could’ve done differently. On the fourth day, she was so sad they couldn’t even talk about it. On the fifth day, she finally accepted it was gone for good.

Yuki went through all the stages of grief for losing the ring Choso gave her, the one he bought for her when they were twelve and kept for fourteen years. She was so upset and so sure that she only took it off to wash the dishes earlier in the week, but she forgot to put it back on right after, and when she remembered later in the same day, it was no longer in the kitchen sink.

“Might’ve fallen down the drain,” was what Choso told her that day. “It’s okay, though. I told you I would buy you a better one eventually. I’ll just have to do it sooner rather than later.”

“But that one was perfect!”

She was severely distraught for a few days until she accepted that the ring was officially gone. It didn’t mean that she still wasn’t upset, but Choso’s sudden proposition at dinner changed her mind one way or the other when he said, “Do you think you can take some time off work next month?”

Yuki arches an eyebrow. “Maybe. Probably. Why?”

“I’m thinking of adding some wines and champagnes to the menu of the patisserie. I saw how alcohol was a hit at the anniversary event and your exhibition. I’m thinking of going to some wineries in France to pick the wines, but you know this stuff better than me,” Choso explains, nervously fidgeting with the oyakodon he made for dinner.

Yuki smiles. Wine, at a bakery? She doubts that Choso is really contemplating serving alcohol alongside his pastries, and something tells her this has to do with him saying he will get her a better ring eventually, sooner rather than later. But sure, she can play along. “Of course, I’m happy to help however I can. And a trip to France sounds nice.”

And it is nice, especially since it’s early autumn, as they get to Champagne, in France. Yuki is fully expecting to walk into the hotel room to see rose petals and for Choso to drop to one knee, but that doesn’t happen. Not on the first day, nor the second, third, fourth, or fifth. It doesn’t happen when they go out either, to the wine tastings and dinners. It’s a very romantic trip, but it’s also a business trip as Choso talks to the wineries, and they both taste test various champagnes.

In a mix of frustration and silent rebellion, Yuki goes overboard in most of the tastings and gets more drunk than socially acceptable, more often than not with Choso having to carry her back to the hotel room when she’s completely wasted.

It’s the last day of their six-day visit to Champagne when Choso tells Yuki they will be doing a nighttime wine tasting at the famous Ruinart Château. Deciding to put aside her pettiness about being wrong about Choso pretending to want to add alcohol to the bakery’s menu only to propose to her in France, she decides to be on her best behavior for the last tasting.

Choso dresses up in a long, black trench coat with a double-breasted front. There are dark buttons and notched lapels, and the waist is slightly cinched. Beneath the coat, he wears a grey turtleneck sweater and black pants that taper down to his ankles, where his heeled and sturdy combat boots are.

Yuki is wearing an oversized denim jacket with a classic blue wash accented with tan faux fur lining that peeks out from the collar, cuffs, and hem. Underneath, she pairs the jacket with a black sleeveless turtleneck shirt and a caramel-brown short, tight skirt that balances the oversized jacket. Her legs are adorned with ribbed, mid-calf socks in the same hue of brown as the skirt, paired with dark-brown loafers with a polished finish, and she finishes off the look with gold hoop earrings and a brown headband, as well as a brown leather medium vintage purse.

“You know, I’m gonna buy you some shoes for your birthday, and maybe you will wear a different pair every once in a while,” Yuki teases Choso as they are in the cab going to the château. He rolls his eyes but chuckles. “Anyway, I like this wine-tasting-at-night idea. I mean, the day drinking is fun too, but drinking at night seems right. Why don’t they all do this?”

“Mm, don’t know,” Choso says, lying his hand on top of hers and intertwining their fingers. “They’re missing out on revenue, for sure.”

Yuki looks out of the window as they approach the site, and she hums. “Maybe not. Looks pretty empty. Maybe people enjoy day drinking more.”

As the car rides closer to the state, an expanse of vineyards greets them, only illuminated by the moonlight. The building is gigantic and made of aged limestone. It is designed in a classic French style, complete with ornate window frames and a symmetrical layout.

The cab comes to a stop at the entrance to the château, and Choso pays for the ride and gets out of the car, jogging to Yuki’s side to open the door for her. She smiles and takes his hand to get out and up, and they both walk into the building, getting greeted and guided by the workers, who take their jackets. Their fingers are intertwined as they walk side by side, letting one of the château’s workers guide them to the cellar, where the wine tasting will take place.

The man opens a door that leads to a stone staircase for them, and Choso lets Yuki go first. When they both step down the staircase, though, the worker closes the door, not following behind them. But Yuki barely notices that, too shocked by what she is seeing to pay attention to anything else.

The cellar is a cave carved out of limestone, the walls a chalk white. It would be completely dark if it weren’t for the hundreds of candles illuminating the space. The rough-hewn stairs are lined with candles, their flames casting a gentle, inviting glow and beckoning Yuki toward the heart of the cellar.

Yuki looks back at Choso, her lips parted in awe, and he nods slightly to encourage her to move on, a nervous half-smile on his lips. She lets out a surprised half-laugh, half-gasp, and looks back ahead, descending the stairs. As she reaches the cellar floor, the cavernous space opens up. Candles illuminate the natural fissures and shadows of the chalk walls, and throughout the expansive space of the cellar as well, creating islands of light. They cast a soft glow onto the stacked champagne bottles that rest in geometrically perfect rows, their glass catching the flicker of the flames.

Yuki walks further into the space, her lips parted as she takes in both the natural beauty of the cave and the one created by the glowing light of the candles. Choso walks behind her, allowing her to take in every detail before she finally turns around to him.

“Choso, this is…” Yuki trails off as she looks around again, and her eyes rest on his once more. He’s smiling at her, but his lips are quivering with anxiety. “It’s so beautiful, baby. I’m… speechless.”

“That’s fine, I think I’m the one who’s supposed to do the talking, anyway,” Choso chuckles, and Yuki smiles tenderly. He steps closer to her and grabs her hands in his, holding them gently. “Though I’m not very good with words. So, I’ll limit myself to saying that I’ve wanted to do this when we were twelve. When I went to Osaka trying to run into you. When I saw you again for the first time in the bakery. When you came over to try my pastries during work hours. When you came over to help me and I asked you to be my girlfriend. I told you then that I wanted to marry you someday, but, honestly, I wanted to marry you then, and that hasn’t changed since. I’ve wanted to marry you every day since then as well. I adore you so, so much, Yuki.”

Yuki’s bottom lip quivers as tears sting her eyes, and she pouts slightly at his words, though there is still a small smile on her lips.

“Yuki, you’ve always been the love of my life. The last six months of dating you are just proof of that. So…” Choso lets go of her hands to reach into his coat’s pocket, from where he retrieves a black velvet box.

He gets down on one knee, and Yuki bites her bottom lip to stop her tears from falling then and there. He opens the box, and her eyes go wide. It’s the ring. Not any ring, but the ring she lost, the one he gave to her on their first date. The one he bought for her when they were twelve.

Except one of the stones that make up the heart has been replaced by a larger diamond, and the other two stones seem shinier as well—he probably replaced them all for diamonds. The shape still resembles a heart, and it is still the ring twelve-year-old Choso bought for twelve-year-old Yuki, but now it looks like a proper engagement ring.

“All my pastries are yours if you will have me, Yuki,” Choso says to her, and she can’t help the choked-up sob that leaves her smiling lips then. His own eyes are glistening with tears as well as he smiles nervously at her.  “Will you marry me?”

“Of course I will,” Yuki sniffles with a big grin, and Choso lets out a relieved breath and lets his smile grow wider. He grabs her left hand again and slides the ring onto her finger with shaky hands that betray how nervous he is about the whole ordeal.

As soon as he gets to his feet, Yuki wraps her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply and desperately.

“I love you so, so much, baker boy,” she whispers against his lips.

“I love you more,” he whispers back, not allowing her to respond with their little game by taking her lips on his once more and not letting go, their tongues intertwining in a breath-taking kiss.

Yuki feels so silly for actually believing that Choso wanted to add alcohol to the bakery’s menu. Of course he was just buying time and distracting her with the wine tastings to make the perfect scenario and surprise.

As they stand in the big limestone cave, illuminated by the soft glow of the candlelight, with the refurbished ring she thought she had lost on her finger, Yuki has to agree that it truly is the best surprise. He thought carefully of everything, and if Choso said he had been wanting to propose to her since they were twelve, she could only selfishly think that she would rather have waited all the years so she could have it this way—this perfect, utterly perfect way.

It was often, if not every time, that the black stripe he got tattooed on his face in December of the previous year, 2007, was the first thing that people noticed when they saw him. Well, he supposed that the tattoo wasn’t very subtle, especially when not a lot of people have even hidden tattoos, let alone one on their faces.

It wasn’t something he thought about thoroughly. He had been wanting a second tattoo for a while—years, actually—and he thought the black stripe might suit him. After a particularly hard day at his internship when he wasn’t feeling like himself, he went to the tattoo parlor in search of something that would remind him of who he was aside from his profession. With no better idea in mind, the stripe on his face it was.

As he got a latte and a croissant, he wandered to one of the vacant tables and sat down, observing the café and the customers, most of them sitting at the communal table on their laptops. It really was a cozy place. Choso thought Yuki would like the café. It somehow reminded him of her, though he couldn’t pinpoint why, especially after not hearing her voice or knowing about her life in over three years.

On a deeper level, one that he wasn’t going to acknowledge so that maybe that way it wouldn’t hurt him as bad, he knew that the embracing ambiance reminded him of how Yuki used to make him feel. At home, even when he was away. Comforted, even in the unknown. Warm, even on a chilly day.

As he often did, he started wondering about Yuki and what she had been up to. Had she graduated like him in March? Was she working full-time now? Had she moved again? Maybe she was back in Tokyo? No, surely she would tell him if she moved back. Right?

His trail of thought is interrupted by his iPhone buzzing with a text message from Hitomi, his girlfriend. The text said her meeting ran late and asked if he was done having lunch already. He replied to her, saying that it was okay and that he would be back in the office soon.

He didn’t invite her to the café. Felt wrong, for some reason.

It shouldn’t. He had been dating Hitomi for a few months. She was a Project Manager at the company he worked at, and she was leading a project he was a part of months ago, the development of a mobile app, something that became necessary with the popularization of iPhones the year prior.

Hitomi was beautiful and nice. There was something really elegant about her, almost regal, about the way she carried herself with grace, which complimented her assertive nature. She was very respected amongst her peers for her leadership skills.

Not to mention her striking good looks, with her light brown hair, styled in a sleek bob. She had grey eyes and plump pink lips, high cheekbones, a pointed chin, and a petite but toned physique.

They hit it off immediately whilst working together, and when the project was done, the team went out for drinks. Choso and Hitomi lingered at the bar long after everyone had left and started dating after that.

Honestly, after Saki, the girlfriend Choso met at a club during his university days and dated from 2005 to 2007, he didn’t really think he would ever date anyone else for the rest of his life. He was completely smitten by Saki until she told him that she would be going to Italy for the last semester of uni to study at the Politecnico di Milano.

He was happy for her. The Italian university was renowned for its rich history in art and design, a perfect fit for Saki and her semester abroad. But the distance made them drift apart, just like it had done to him and Yuki before, and they ended up breaking up.

As Choso drank his latte, he wondered if it would forever be like that. If everyone he falls for will end up moving away and leaving him. It only happened twice, but still, it was the only two girls he fell in love with, and they both moved away, and he ended up alone and heartbroken.

It was only two times, but it was enough to make him wonder. He was still hung up over Yuki when Saki came along, and it took him a long time to get over her and make room for Saki in his heart. Then she moved away as well.

Looking at Hitomi’s smile in her contact picture on his phone, he shook his head slightly.

He shouldn’t be thinking about such things. Hitomi wouldn’t move away, and neither would he. His heart won’t be broken again.

It would work out this time.

*

2009 | Twenty-four years old

It was over nine p.m. when Choso finally got around to finishing cooking dinner for himself in his small, one-bedroom apartment in the neighborhood of Nakano, Tokyo. After he washed the dishes in his tiny but convenient kitchen, he opened his MacBook Pro to check his emails one last time before he went to bed.

He did it with the intention of just seeing if there were any time-sensitive work emails about his latest project since he got promoted from Junior Software Developer to Lead Software Developer. Honestly, he didn’t really understand much about the titles—he just knew he had a lot more responsibilities since he got the promotion and a little more freedom.

But one email popped out. It was from Facebook, a friend request sent half an hour ago. That was not unusual, but the person who sent it to him was what made his eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.

Yuki Tsukumo sent you a friend request.

Choso was both shocked and mad at himself for not thinking about looking her up on Facebook when he opened his account on the platform a few years prior. He immediately opened the website and went to her profile, accepting the friend request.

She looked the same, somehow. Older, more mature, but the same. She was smiling in her profile picture and wearing a tank top, and Choso could see the coordinates tattooed on her shoulder. It warmed his heart in a way he hadn’t experienced since she told him he loved him all those years ago before she moved to Sapporo.

Sapporo. Was she still in Sapporo?

He checked her location and yes, she was still living in Sapporo. Working as a Retail Manager at a big multinational retail company, apparently. And dating a guy named Takumi Mura.

Choso bit down on his bottom lip as he clicked on the guy’s name, opening his profile. He shouldn’t be checking Yuki’s boyfriend’s profile, he had no reason to. They hadn’t talked in over four years.

He still did it. It seemed like Yuki and Takumi had been dating for five months. Takumi had tousled black hair and charcoal gray eyes, and a lean but fit physique, with an abundance of pictures of him working out in his profile. As well as an abundance of pictures of him and Yuki together.

It was wrong. Even though he was also in a relationship, Choso’s heart still ached to see that Yuki was with someone else. Why was he feeling that way? Again, it had been over four years since they last talked to each other. Of course she had moved on. So had he.

Had he?

Before he can dwell on it, a notification from Yuki pops up on his screen.

Yuki Tsukumo: 

Hi, Choso! Long time no see :)

His heart raced as he stared at the message. Yuki was talking to him. Four years later, he was going to get to talk to Yuki again. His palms started sweating as he overthought how to reply to her. What could this mean? Did it mean anything? Could it mean anything when they are both with other people?

Before he could give himself a stroke, he shook his head and typed a simple reply.

Choso Kamo: 

Hey, Yuki! It’s been forever. It’s so good to hear from you! How have you been?

He could see her typing immediately.

Yuki Tsukumo: 

I’m good! Graduated last year and got promoted a few months ago in my job. Lot of stuff happening all at once, but it’s nice. How are you? I see you got the fancy job that you’ve always wanted!

Choso smiled at the fact that she remembered that he had always talked about working as a Software Developer.

Choso Kamo: 

I’m good. Lots happening as well, just got promoted a few days ago too. Still gotta change the title here on Facebook. I am no longer a Junior Software Developer but a much cooler Lead Software Developer. And congratulations on getting promoted! You’re working as a Store Manager, right? Do you like the job?

Yuki Tsukumo: 

Lead Software Developer sounds soooo much cooler than Junior Software Developer. You’re definitely so cool. :P

Yeah, Store Manager. Dealing with the aftermath of last year’s financial crisis is… something! But it’s fun! Kinda hectic, but I like it. Get to boss people around a lot.

Choso snorted at that.

Choso Kamo: 

Seems like the perfect job for you.

Yuki Tsukumo: 

It is. Seems like we’ve both found our paths! :)

They’ve found their paths… but not together. They both moved on. Have they? If he had moved on, why does it feel so nice to talk to her, yet so painful still? Why is he feeling such things when he has a girlfriend that he loves, and Yuki has a boyfriend as well?

Choso Kamo: 

It seems so. I’m glad to hear that you’ve found a job that you like and you’re growing on it. They are lucky to have someone as talented as you.

Yuki Tsukumo:  

Same for you! Really happy to see you thriving. Have a good night, Choso! :)

Choso Kamo: 

You too, Yuki.

Choso sighed as he leaned back on his chair, his mind a scrambled mess of thoughts and feelings. But through the harsh, jumbled confusion, one thing remained clear: he was so happy to talk to Yuki again, four years after they had last been in touch.

He couldn’t help himself as he typed one last message to Yuki, even if he deleted it and retyped it many times, considering and reconsidering sending it or not, only to end up clicking on the enter button quickly before he gave up on it completely.

Choso Kamo: 

It’s good to talk to you, Yuki.

He was surprised to see her typing and her response pop up immediately, as if she didn’t close their conversation even after she wished him goodnight.

Yuki Tsukumo: 

You too, Choso. It’s been a really long time. It was really nice. Let’s not wait years to talk to each other again.

He sat back again, lost in thought. Yuki was back in his life, to some capacity. He was really happy about it, yet there was a weight in his chest that he couldn’t quite name or explain. She was back in his life, but she still lived in Sapporo, she had a boyfriend, and he had a girlfriend. They are nothing but old friends at that point, merely above a familiar stranger.

As Choso tried to focus on the positive side of having Yuki back in his life, the realization that he had never quite gotten over her loomed large in his mind and chest. He doesn’t really know where they will go from there, but he knows that there is a part of his heart that will always belong to her, to his first love.

Seeing her face in the pictures, just seeing her words on his screen, dragged his brain through a wave of nostalgia and a walk down memory lane through all the moments they shared. He was in a relationship, a perfectly happy and healthy relationship, yet he somehow felt more connected to someone who was hundreds of miles away, someone he had spoken to for the first time in years.

He didn’t know what that said about him and about his relationship with Hitomi. He didn’t know what the future held for him and Yuki either, but he hoped he could handle being just friends because that was better than not having her in his life at all.

*

2010 | Twenty-five years old

It had been over an hour and three cups of tea since Choso sat down at the Komorebi Café. He went there after he clocked out of work, and Hitomi told him she was swamped with her latest project and had to take a rain check on their dinner plans.

He had every intention of just drinking a cup of tea and going home, but Yuki sent him a message, and they started texting back and forth, as they do at every hour of every day.

There was a faint smile on his lips as he read the latest message he got from her, but despite the joy that talking to her brought him, there was also a shadow of guilt that came from being so happy about being in touch with a woman who was not his girlfriend.

Yuki Tsukumo: 

Can you believe it’s been a year since we reconnected? Time flies, huh? :P

A year. It really had been a year since they had been talking again. The realization made Choso hesitate in his response. Not only because of the amount of time, but because Yuki had been keeping track of it. Or, at the very least, the date was memorable enough for her to remember it, a year later. His brain short-circuits with the implications of that, and before he can think more about it, he types a response and sends it.

Choso Kamo: 

Yeah, a year. That’s crazy. Feels like yesterday. I’m glad we did, though. It’s been great reconnecting and talking to you.

It had been great, hadn’t it? It was harmless. Just some messages between old childhood friends. But if it was harmless, then why did Choso feel like he was doing something wrong every time he saw her name pop up on his screen? Why did he feel like he was cheating when he was talking to someone who lived across the country and also had a boyfriend and showed no interest in him other than just being friends again?

Yuki Tsukumo: 

Me, too. It feels like we picked up right where we left off. I’m sorry we stopped talking during university. I know that was on me. You always made time for me, but I didn’t do the same.

Choso gulped, putting down his mug. It wasn’t a lie. Even with their busy schedules, Choso would always make time for Yuki. If she called him at 3 a.m., he would wake up and pick up. If she texted him in the middle of class, he would be all but deaf to the professor as he texted her back.

But it wasn’t the same for her, and they drifted apart because of that.

Choso Kamo: 

It’s okay, Yuki. It’s all in the past now.

Yuki Tsukumo: 

It was shitty of me. But yeah, it’s in the past. Sometimes I wonder how things would be if I hadn’t moved to Sapporo, though. If anything would be different. Do you ever wonder about that?

Choso bit down on his bottom lip, taking a deep breath. He wondered about that all the time. He took solace and comfort in the ‘what ifs’ of their lives. Wishing they could explore those alternate realities where they ended up in the same place, studying in the same university, sharing an apartment, being together, graduating at the same time, starting their professional lives, going home to each other each night and having dinner together.

But that was wrong. That wasn’t their reality. He shouldn’t ever be wondering about such things, not when they both had other people they loved in their lives. Choso felt dirty. Like he was cheating on Hitomi, even though Yuki was miles away and in a committed relationship.

Choso Kamo: 

Sometimes. But it doesn’t really make a difference in the end. Things happen the way they should.

There was a pregnant pause as Yuki didn’t reply, and a question weighed heavy on Choso’s mind, so he asked it.

Choso Kamo: 

Have you told Takumi about us talking again?

He sees that she is typing and stopping for a bit before her reply pops up.

Yuki Tsukumo: 

Yeah, I mentioned you. He knows we are old friends catching up. What about you? Have you told Hitomi?

Old friends. Was that all they were? Was that all they could ever be?

No. He shouldn’t even be wondering that. They were just old friends catching up. That was it.

Choso Kamo: 

I’ve told her about a friend from my childhood. Didn’t go into much detail.

He didn’t go into any detail at all, actually. Because the details were too complicated even for him to explain to himself. Because he didn’t know how to explain the way his heart would race when his phone would light up with a simple ‘hello’ from Yuki, or how he would find himself waiting with bated breath for her to reply to his messages.

It was wrong—it was all so wrong. They were just old friends catching up, yet it still felt so wrong. But then why did it also feel so right? Why, like Yuki said, did it feel like they picked up right where they left off? Like no time had passed since they last talked in uni? Like he was still the teenager who was in love with his best friend?

Yuki Tsukumo: 

I’m glad we’ve been talking, Choso. It means a lot to me. It’s nice to have you back in my life.

Her message changed the subject slightly, but not entirely. It still made his heart race. It still made him feel like a piece of shit.

Choso Kamo:  

It means a lot to me, too, Yuki. I’ve missed you a lot.

It did mean a lot, but did it mean more than it should? Was he being unfair to Hitomi by cherishing these small moments with Yuki so much? Did Yuki feel the same way? Did she feel guilty for chatting so much with Choso when she, too, had a significant other?

Maybe not. Maybe, to her, it was just reconnecting with an old friend, like she said. Maybe there was nothing to feel guilty for in her eyes because she wasn’t doing anything wrong. Her heart wasn’t racing with each message, she wasn’t losing sleep to stay up texting him and waiting for him to text her back, and she wasn’t staring at her phone her entire day, just hoping he would say something to jump-start a conversation.

Choso considered asking her. But he couldn’t. It would cross an unspoken boundary, an invisible line. Something he wasn’t willing to risk.

Choso Kamo: 

So, any new projects at work?

As they shifted the conversation to simpler topics, Choso still couldn’t shake the feeling that rekindling his connection with Yuki was leading him to tread dangerous waters. Yet, there he was, centering his mast and sailing away into the unknown.

He couldn’t bring himself to put an end to it. Every interaction with Yuki brought him joy and nostalgia, even if it was clouded by guilt. He realized that navigating this friendship while honoring his relationship with Hitomi would require careful balance—one that he was not sure he was capable of maintaining.

Well, talk about killing two birds with one stone.

Yuki’s job – not that she really needed one, being blessed with a trust fund large enough to carry her around the world – was as a private investigator. She found that she really enjoyed true crime and that she just so happened to have enough free time on her hands to solve cases for those who paid her enough to do so.

This month, she was looking into a case of a murder that looked to be the work of a serial killer, whose last victim was a 35-year-old salaryman who was coming back from a gambling alley. The man’s wife hired Yuki as a last effort, since the police had all but given up after chasing dead-end leads for months.

Yuki didn’t have much to go after either, but she had one person of interest: Choso Kamo, the owner of Kamo Brothers.

But she didn’t have anything other than very lackluster quotes from people in the surrounding bars, saying that Choso would go there every once in a while and that he was present the night that the salaryman went missing.

The only reason he was a person of interest, really, was because, somehow, Choso seemed to be around every person that Yuki had traced to be a victim of this serial killer – if he even was a serial killer. If he even existed.

Her idea was to ride her bike to Kamo Brothers and ask Choso some questions there while pretending to need to get her bike fixed, but would you look at that. It seems that the universe had some plans to make her argument have some truth behind it, after all.

She wishes she could read some Yelp reviews before trusting the Kamo Brothers with her precious baby, but she could at least borrow a charger while interrogating him if she felt like they weren’t good enough.

Running a hand through her damp hair, she sorted herself out, feeling her clothes sticking to her skin but not being able to do much about that. She walked into the open garage, looking for any of the so-called Kamo Brothers.

She soon heard the clanking of tools to the side and peered over to see a pair of legs sticking out from under a silver car.

“Fuck,” the man under the car cursed, banging on something. His voice was deep, and he seemed quite annoyed with the task at hand.

“Uh,” Yuki tilted her head to the side. “Hello?”

The clanking stopped. Yuki watched as he slid down from under the car, fully coming into her view.

A breath got stuck in her throat.

Oh.

The man was strong but lean, the muscles on his bicep stretching the grey t-shirt he wore. It was barely grey anymore, though, covered in stains from working that also stretched to his bare arms and some even in his face.

And his face – his face made Yuki clamp her mouth shut so she wouldn’t let out an involuntary sigh. His jaw was sharp, his eyes were deep-set and sultry, and he had a stripe tattoo going from one cheek, over his nose, to his other cheek. His hair was up in a ponytail, and some of it stuck to his sweaty forehead. There was a black grease stain on the side of his face.

God. Just her type.

Yuki recognized him from the photo, but, damn, the pictures didn’t do him any justice.

“Welcome,” he said as he got up from the ground to his feet.

Yuki frowned a bit at that. She always liked men better when they were at her feet.

“Can I help you?” he asked when she didn’t say anything.

She almost forgot what she came here for.

Right. Bike. Tow truck. Charger. Interrogate him.

“Yeah, uh,” she pointed back with her thumb at her bike, parked at the entrance. “My bike broke down on the road. I saw your shop, so I brought her here. Can I charge my phone so I can call a tow truck?”

The man looked at the bike and back at Yuki.

“You don’t want it fixed?”

She smiled. “Well, yes, but I don’t know you or your shop. No offense…?”

“Choso.”

“Choso,” she repeated, pretending that this was brand-new information. “I’m Yuki.”

“Pleased to meet you. Say, why don’t you let me take a look at your bike while you charge your phone?” He asks, rearranging the tools on his desk. “I know my word won’t mean much to you, but I promise I’m very good at fixing fucked-up old bikes.”

“She’s not old, she’s vintage,” Yuki emphasizes, leaning against a desk. “But, yeah, sure, you can take a look at it.”

Choso smirks, nodding. He walks over to Yuki, and with long strides, closes the space between them. Yuki’s eyes widen, and even though she should be jumping into her fight-or-flight mode – this is a suspect in a murder case, after all –, all she can do is get overwhelmed by the mix of cologne, sweat, and car wax that exudes from the man.

He leans even closer, and Yuki is stuck in place, her mind blank as the stranger that she has been investigating for weeks gets so close to her. Quickly, though, his arm reaches around her and retrieves a charging cable, handing it to her.

Her eyebrows frown slightly, but she takes it from his hand. He could’ve just said it was behind me.

“Keys?” Choso asks in return.

Yuki can see her chest rising and falling, and she digs in her pocket and hands him the keys quickly. When he turns around, she shakes her head, hoping he didn’t notice the red tinging her cheeks.

She plugs her phone in as Choso brings her motorcycle inside. Yuki watches the muscles on his arms and biceps tense as he drags the bike, and she curses at herself for thinking with her cunt instead of her brain.

If he is the killer, he could’ve killed me in a second there, she thinks.

But she can’t help but feel entranced by the man. He’s just so damn attractive, as he manhandles the bike and inspects it to find what caused it to stop working.

“So… I take you’re one of the Kamo Brothers,” Yuki says.

“Yep,” Choso confirms, getting down on his knees with his tools to inspect the carburetor.

“Kamo Brothers, yet I only see you working here,” she continues.

“I thought it would be a family business, but it turns out my brothers aren’t particularly interested in fixing cars and bikes,” he is focused on inspecting the bike, offering Yuki answers none the wiser.

“What are they interested in?”

“Pretty nosey, aren’t you, Yuki?” Choso glances at her with a sly smile.

Yuki chuckles, leaning further against the table and crossing one ankle over the other. “Some would say it’s my best quality.”

Choso snorts, getting up from the floor. “I have three brothers. They all have their own interests. Ghost hunting, circus, stripping… I’m just glad they are still in school.”

Yuki tilts her head. She didn’t expect that.

He drops his tools on the table she’s leaning against, and Yuki clears her throat.

“It’s a vacuum leak. It happens every so often,” Yuki says, laying her hand on her hip and looking at Choso.

Choso shakes his head, wiping his dirty hands on his denim pants. “No, I don’t think so. It’s the carburetor. Probably the needle jet.”

Yuki crosses her arms. “I think I know my bike pretty well by now, Choso.”

“Apparently, you don’t, Yuki.” Choso arches an eyebrow at her.

Yuki scoffs, slightly entertained by the sweaty, handsome, and stubborn mechanic – that also might be a serial killer, but really, who’s keeping track?

She stares at him, and he meets her eyes with the same intensity and challenge.

“Fine. Say, you keep it today and check it out. If I’m right, you will give me a discount.” Yuki pops her hip to the side.

There’s a glint of amusement in Choso’s eyes. “And what if I’m right?”

Yuki smirks, licking her lips before speaking.

“If you’re right, I’ll let you buy me a drink.”

A smile blooms on Choso’s lips, and he stares at Yuki. “Really? Would you be so kind to let me buy you a drink?”

“I’m very kind.”

“I can see that,” Choso says, still smiling. “Okay, you’re on.”

“See you tomorrow, then.”

Yuki bites back her excitement, and for once in her life, she actually hopes she’s wrong.

*

The next day, Yuki gets to the shop barely before closing time. Not because she expects Choso to buy her a drink even if she is correct about her bike’s diagnosis – which she knows she is. Definitely not. She was just… Busy.

“So, how big will my discount be?” Yuki walks into the shop confidently, watching as Choso cleans some of his tools.

A lazy smirk graces his features, and it nearly sweeps Yuki off her feet. “I’m afraid you’re paying full price.”

She pouts, looking at her bike, then back at Choso. “It’s always a vacuum leak.” 

“Not this time,” Choso says, closing his toolbox. “Needle jet. Now, what’s your drink of choice?”

Yuki fights a smile from her face, her frustration over getting the bike’s problem wrong nearly completely forgotten at that point. “Beer is fine.”

Choso arches a brow, nodding. “Alright.”

“What? You don’t like beer?” Yuki senses the shift in his tone.

“I just thought you would milk me dry with an expensive cocktail,” Choso chuckles, walking over to a small fridge and getting two beer bottles.

I do want to milk you dry, Yuki thinks. Just not like that.

“I guess we are drinking here, then,” Yuki accepts a beer from Choso, clinking it to cheer with him.

“It’s better than the bars around here, trust me,” he says, motioning her to one of the chairs spread around a table.

Yuki takes a seat, and basks in the masculine odor of Choso when he sits next to her. No matter how the man was making the mix of cologne and grease work for him–but he was.

“How long have you been a mechanic for?” Yuki asks, taking a sip of her beer.

“About six years,” Choso answers. 

She already knew that, having compiled and read his file over and over again. Especially last night.

“What about you? What do you do?” 

“Personal… Trainer,” she corrects herself at the last second, not wanting to reveal her hand just yet. Telling him that she is a personal investigator would just set off alarms on him if he is the killer.

The thought is quickly lost on her mind, though, as she watches his gaze drop from hers, slide up and down her body slowly before meeting her eyes again. Shamelessly, his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, and he takes a sip of his beer.

Yuki meets his fiery gaze with her own—-she was never one to back down from a fight, and this is a fight all right.

A fight of who is giving in first.

“You taking clients?” Choso asks.

“Sure, but you don’t look like you need any help,” Yuki smiles.

Choso chuckles, gulping down more of his beer. “I guess my job is a workout already.”

“What do you like to do in your free time?” Yuki tries to probe.

Choso runs a hand through his hair, freeing it from his ponytail.

Oh, God, he looks even hotter with his hair down, Yuki clenches her thighs.

“Watch movies. Have a beer with a pretty girl. That kind of stuff.”

“Sounds like a great time,” she blushes so hard she nearly forgets to note down mentally that he didn’t mention gambling – then again, who would?

“What about you? Do you just go around with a beat up bike, harassing guys into buying you a drink?” Choso says, playfully.

“I do enjoy getting people to buy things for me, but I don’t usually go about it in this route, no,” Yuki lays the trap.

“Oh? How else?” Choso bites.

“Well… I’m really good at poker. That usually gets me a few drinks on the house and some pocket change when I’m in the mood to beat people’s asses at it.”

Choso leans back on his seat, an amused smirk on his face. “Really?”

“Yep,” she takes a sip of her beer.

“I’m a bit of a player myself,” he says. “I’m sure I have some cards here if you’d like to play.”

Yuki wipes her lips with the back of her hand after drinking her beer, and watches as Choso’s eyes wander to her lips. “What are we betting on, Choso? I’m already paying full price for the repair.”

“From the way I see it, you were winning with both ways the last bet went. You either got a discount, or a beer with me,” Choso says. “So, I think it’s only fair that I do the same to you.”

“I would say this was mutually beneficial, but sure. What would that look like?” Yuki leans forward, resting her elbow on the table and her chin on her hand.

“If you win, I’ll get you another beer.” 

“How is that a win for you too?” Yuki quirks up an eyebrow.

“I get to keep drinking with you for longer, that’s how.”

Yuki bites her bottom lip, suppressing her smile. “Fine. What if you win?”

“If I win…” Choso leans forward, his face coming so close to Yuki’s that she could taste his breath. “If I win, you’ll take your pants off, get on this table, and let me taste you.”

Yuki blinks and exhales slowly. “I better win if I don’t want to get parched, then.”

Choso smiles, getting up from his seat and around the desk to the back of the shop. Yuki lets out a sigh when he’s out of her sight, taking the back of her hand to her flushed cheeks. She has never felt this flustered because of a man before. And she could definitely handle dirty talk.

So what magic was this guy doing?

He soon comes back with a deck of cards in his hand, taking back his seat and lazily shuffling the cards. He deals them the cards and Yuki doesn’t even flinch as she peeks at her cards; good, not great.

They play the game in silence, and Yuki can’t get a good read on Choso either, but she does believe she has the winning hand when she completes a full house.

Beginner’s luck, she thinks. She had only played the game once or twice before. But I was really looking forward to losing.

Yuki places her cards on the table, showing him her winning hand. “I am so thirsty.”

Choso chuckles, leaning forward and placing his cards next to hers. A straight flush. “So am I.”

Yuki gapes at his win for a millisecond before meeting Choso’s hungry gaze. Without a single thought – definitely not considering why she was even there in the first place – she leans forward, and Choso does the same. 

Their lips meet in a fiery clash, and soon enough her hands are on his hair, bringing him closer, getting tangled between unbrushed strands. Her tongue swipes his bottom lip and meets his, and Choso’s hands go to Yuki’s thighs, running up them and squeezing the toned muscles until he stops at her hips.

In one swipe, he gets up and hoists her up on the table, standing between her parted legs. His hands roam through her back and up her sides, stopping at her ribcage. Slowly, his thumbs travels up, quickly finding her perked nipples and circling them with his digit.

Yuki hums into his mouth, dragging her hands down his chest and tugging his t-shirt up. He quickly takes it off, tossing it to the side, before latching his lips into Yuki’s neck, sucking and nipping the soft skin.

She rolls her hips against his, feeling the bulge in his denim pants press against her thigh.

“Getting ahead of ourselves, aren’t we?” Choso hums, taking her shirt off and undoing her bra. “I said I want to taste you, Yuki.”

“Then fucking do it already,” she huffs, tugging at the hairs in the back of his neck.

Choso chuckles, kissing her lips again while his fingers undo the buttons on her pants. “So impatient.”

He tugs her pants down, and she lifts her hips so he can take both those and her panties off. He takes off her boots, tossing it all to the side. 

Yuki lies naked beneath his gaze, and he licks his lips. His hand goes to her shoulder, guiding her down until her back meets the cold metal table. A shuddered breath leaves her lips, and she looks down to see Choso getting on his knees between her legs.

He wraps his arms under her thighs and gives her body a harsh tug toward the end of the table, her butt nearly hanging off of it.

 Choso was so close to her cunt that Yuki could feel his breath on her skin. With his fingers, he spread her lips and hummed at the sight of her exposed pussy, weeping for him. Without further ado, he dove in, licking a bead of arousal that was trailing out of Yuki up to her clit.

“As delicious as I’d imagined,” he hums against her cunt, his tongue trailing circles on her clit.

“And just h-how much you imagined eating me out on your work desk, huh?” Yuki talks between gasps and moans, closing her hand on Choso’s hair when he starts fucking her with his tongue.

“Since you walked through that door yesterday,” he answers briefly, focusing again on his main task of drinking up every last bit of her juices.

Yuki’s sounds are perverted, loud, and beautiful to Choso. She does wonder if anyone will be able to hear them, but she remembers the shop’s remote location and the lack of neighbors—a fortunate coincidence, really.

Choso lets her buck her hips against him, smearing her arousal on his face as she moans and chases her orgasm. His tongue is rough against her clit, but the rougher he is, the more she moans.

Yuki’s back arches off the table when she cums, and her legs on Choso’s shoulders shake as he lets her ride it off, licking every bead of arousal that drips from her cunt until she is shuddering.

“Fuck,” Yuki sighs, trying to slow down her breathing.

Choso gets up from his knees, and Yuki sits up, immediately pulling him in for a kiss. Her hand delves down to grope his throbbing erection through his jeans, and he hisses into her mouth.

She undoes the button on his jeans and the zipper, letting them fall to his ankles, soon followed by his boxers.

Her hand wraps around his cock, pumping it a few times and running her thumb against the tip, which was oozing with precum.

“You better have a condom,” Yuki mutters in between kisses, and Choso smiles.

He pulls back, kicking off his shoes before taking off his pants and underwear. He leans down, grabbing a condom from the back pocket of his jeans.

“Wow, so you were expecting this to happen,” Yuki pretends to be offended, hooking her leg around his waist and pulling him closer.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Choso says while putting the condom on. “I just like to be prepared. Why, did you expect this to happen, Yuki?”

He pumps his cock once, aligning it with Yuki’s entrance.

“Did you come here tonight because you wanted me to fuck you?” He pushes the tip in, and Yuki’s lips part in an ‘o’.

She didn’t, really. She went there because she thought he might be a serial killer. But that thought was far from her head at that point.

“Maybe,” she says, feeling him push in every inch of himself. “Maybe you just really fell for my trap.”

“Hm,” his lips hover against hers as he bottoms out, giving her a few moments to get used to the stretch. “What a delicious trap to fall into.”

Choso pulls back, his cock sliding off nearly completely before slamming back in, ripping a moan out of Yuki’s throat. His hips clap against hers, and her heels dig into his back every time he pushes in.

“Fuck, Choso,” Yuki tosses her head back, feeling so completely full from his cock.

He picks up the pace, fucking her faster and harder against the cold metal of the table, gripping her neck to keep her in place while he pistons into her.

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” he mutters. “Makes sense if you’re really a personal trainer.”

The comment might even had been lost in between her moans, but Yuki’s head shoots up straight, even if gasps can’t help but leave her lips.

“W-What do you mean if I’m really a personal trainer?” She stutters through moans, feeling his cock so deep inside her. “Why would I lie to you?”

Choso smirks, fucking her deeper and faster. “I don’t know, Yuki, why would you?”

Her lips are parted, and moans are spilling out as he fucks her, but she sees it then – there’s no confusion in it.

“You did it,” Yuki concludes.

“Did what? Use your words, Yuki,” his face is so close she can map out every freckle on his skin.

“K-Killed those people,” she says, looking him deep in the eyes. “Didn’t you?”

“I’ll trade you one truth for another. Tell me, why does it turn you on to think I’m a killer?” Choso licks his lips, never stopping his hips from driving his cock in and out of her.

“It doesn’t,” Yuki answers immediately.

“Then how come your pussy is sucking me in deeper and clenching around me non-stop?” He smiles.

Yuki’s face turns a different shade of red. She couldn’t control that, no, but it was true. Yuki had an attraction to the macabre, and, for some reason, she wasn’t running away at the realization that Choso was the man she was looking for. No, some weird, perverted part of her brain was turned on to know that she was alone – for miles, indeed – with a killer.

“You already know the truth,” Yuki says.

“And you do, too,” his hips collide with hers repeatedly, and she bites her bottom lip to try and suppress her moans.

“Are you—fuck— going to kill me, too?”

Choso looks at her as if he was evaluating the option in his mind, and the hand around her neck closes slightly just to remind her that he could kill her if he wanted to.

“Now, why would I kill the hottest woman I’ve been with? No, I’m gonna keep you,” Choso says.

Indeed, she remembers that all of his victims were middle-aged men, but still.

“Gonna keep you alive, and you gonna keep quiet, won’t you?” Choso asks, running his thumb over her bottom lip.

“Y-Yeah. Promise.”

“That’s it,” Choso grunts, pinning her down against the desk and bunching her thighs against her chest in a mating press.

“Oh, f-fuck,” Yuki moans, feeling him deeper than ever.

He fucks her relentlessly until every muscle on his abs tenses up, and his thumb goes to Yuki’s clit. She moans loudly, and he’s rough with his movements, circling his finger on her sensitive nub.

“Oh—Choso,” Yuki moans as she comes undone around him, her cunt clenching being the only thing he needed to send him over the edge as he reaches his orgasm too.

His hips stutter, his seed spurting out into the condom as he lets out a moan. “Fuck.”

They both ride their highs until the only sounds in the auto shop are their ragged breaths.

Choso pulls out, and Yuki whimpers lowly as she sits up. She feels even more naked than she is, knowing what she knows now.

“Are you really not going to kill me?” Yuki asks again, and Choso chuckles.

“What, do you want me to?” Choso grabs her face by the cheeks and presses a kiss to her pouty lips. “No, I said it, I’m gonna keep you.”

Yuki tries to ignore how her stomach flutters at his declaration.

He pulls away, going to a trash bin to throw away the used condom and putting his clothes back on. Yuki takes the opportunity to get dressed too.

When she is done, he returns with the keys to her motorcycle in his hand. She reaches out, takes it from him, and goes to her bike.

They all but collapsed in Yuki’s bed after fucking the previous night, marking the end of their third date. Before coming over to her house, they had dinner and shared a bottle of wine in a restaurant near the patisserie. But the highlight of the night was definitely Yuki inviting Choso up to her apartment just for a nightcap, only to proceed to ride him and edge him until he felt like he was going to die if he didn’t cum, much like how all their other dates ended.

When he presses another kiss to the column of her throat, Yuki hums lowly and nuzzles further against his side.

“G’morning,” she mumbles against his neck, her sleepy, husky voice making Choso smile slightly. “Why are we awake? It’s too early.”

Yuki is not a morning person. Noted.

“You can go back to sleep. I was just saying goodbye,” Choso says, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I have to go to work.”

“No, you have to stay in bed,” Yuki looks up at him with a lazy smile, her eyelids still droopy from sleepiness, as she laces one of her arms around Choso’s neck. He smiles tenderly at her.

The Yuki Tsukumo, his girlfriend, was naked in bed with him, telling him to skip out on work. He might be dreaming—a wild dream that his 12-year-old mind conjured up.

“It’s Saturday, Choso,” Yuki whines. “Stay in bed with me.”

Choso’s smile grows wider as he chuckles. “Remember that time when you visited the bakery on a Saturday, and I was there, working? I don’t get weekends off. Only Mondays.”

Yuki pouts dramatically, sticking her bottom lip out.

“Let me show you why you should stay in bed,” Yuki smirks at him before pulling him closer and kissing him.

Maybe in another situation, Choso would be worried about his morning breath, but not when Yuki did not hesitate at all to kiss him. And he wasn’t about to pass on an opportunity to kiss her as well.

He kisses her back, his hand squeezing her hip as she wraps her arm around his neck tighter, and moves her leg so her thigh is nestled further up between his legs, rubbing against his cock.

“Okay, I really do need to go to work,” Choso pulls away from the kiss before Yuki actually convinces him to stay in bed and call in sick.

He supposes he could. Both he and Yuki come from rich families, which is why Choso was able to study in Copenhagen and open the bakery at such a young age and why Yuki can maintain a lavish lifestyle with a laid-back job.

Thanks to their families, they both have more money in their bank accounts than they could ever possibly need in their lifetimes. But still, he loves his job and wants to do his best at it, not relying on his inheritance since his father passed away.

Yuki pouts again but lets go of him this time, and Choso kisses the tip of her nose, making her smile and her cheeks flare light pink. He gets up from the bed, putting his clothes—all scattered throughout the room—on as quickly as he can. He is already late, considering that he still needs to go back to his apartment, shower, and put on new clothes so he doesn’t smell like alcohol and sex as he works.

Yuki watches as he puts his clothes on, fiddling with the ring on her finger, the one he bought for her when they were twelve and gave it to her fourteen years later. The one that he saved for fourteen years. Even if they have been dating for only a month, Yuki still can’t help but feel her heart flutter when she is in his presence. Even if it was doing something as mundane as watching him get dressed in the morning as he left for work.

 Choso finishes dressing up in black denim pants and a black shirt, along with a leather jacket and leather-heeled boots. He pats his pockets to make sure everything is in there while looking around the room to make sure he doesn’t forget anything.

“Choso?”

He’s still looking around the room as he says, “Mm?”

When Yuki doesn’t say anything back, he looks at her, watching as she sits up in bed, leaning against the bedframe. The sheets that cover her fall to her lap, and she has a sly smile on her face as Choso’s cheeks turn bright pink.

“Think of me while you’re working,” Yuki says, her fingers tracing the hem of the covers, making Choso gulp and reevaluate his life choices because there’s no way in hell he should be choosing to go to work instead of staying in bed with his insanely gorgeous and very naked girlfriend.

Still, he has filling to pipe and customers to serve, so all he does is go to Yuki and give her another lingering kiss before leaving her apartment.

Yuki spends the day lazing around. After taking a shower, she puts on a ribbed-knit sweater with matching cream-colored pants and makes herself some breakfast. It feels wrong to eat a piece of toast with butter when Choso’s bakery is just down the street, but she really doesn’t feel like leaving the house today.

She watches TV and flips through fashion and art magazines throughout the day and afternoon, occasionally stopping to send a text to Choso or reply to one of his texts.

When it’s close to five p.m., Yuki is bored enough that she starts taking pictures of herself, and when she takes a particularly provocative one of her laying on the couch with her tits perked up on the neckline of her sweater and her body twisted so she could accentuate her curves, she sends it to Choso with the caption ‘you should come over after work’ and a kiss emoji.

It doesn’t take long for her to get a call from him, and the fact that he’s calling her in response to a racy photo makes her chuckle.

“Hi, baby,” she picks up the call.

“You have to warn me before you send something like that,” Choso says sternly, though there is still some humor in his tone. “I was next to Emiko and Takeshi when I opened it.”

“Yeah? Did they like the photo?” Yuki smirks.

“I think Emiko almost had a heart attack. And I will just have to keep an eye on Takeshi when you come over here from now on,” Choso chuckles lowly, and Yuki does as well, picturing the sweet 50-year-old Emiko being flabbergasted at the scandalous picture and the blonde Takeshi being not-so-flabbergasted.

“Could’ve been a lot worse. I could’ve been naked.”

“Then I would be driving Emiko to the hospital now, I believe,” Choso says, making Yuki laugh. “You really want me to come over tonight?”

“Of course I do,” Yuki smiles, twirling her hair on her finger. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know,” Choso says, and Yuki can almost picture him biting his bottom lip anxiously. “I was there last night. I don’t want to overstep or… I don’t know, invade your personal space.”

Yuki’s smile gets bigger, and her body gets warmer at how sweet Choso is. “You’re not overstepping or invading my personal space, baby. If you want to come over, come over. I’d love to spend the night with you again. We can order some dinner and watch a movie.”

“Okay, yeah, sounds good. Whatever you’d like,” Choso says promptly, making Yuki chuckle. “I’ll just change clothes and close the bakery, and I’ll be at your place soon.”

“Alright. I’ll be waiting for you,” Yuki says, and they hang up.

Roughly forty minutes later, Choso arrives, wearing his heeled combat boots, light-wash jeans, a black t-shirt, and a black jacket on top. He’s carrying a plastic bag with something inside that Yuki can’t discern other than its rectangular shape.

She kisses him as he walks into her apartment, and hums against his lips. The mix of his cologne and the day spent baking make up for a scent that is like pure pheromones to Yuki. “You smell good.”

“So do you,” Choso says, leaning to kiss her neck and nuzzle into her hair, smelling the scent of marshmallows and orange of her perfume.

“What’s that?” Yuki asks, nodding at the plastic bag that Choso is carrying.

“Something for later,” Choso says, pulling back from her neck, and Yuki smirks.

“Being mysterious now, are we?” Yuki crosses her arms, and Choso smiles.

“Just a little treat,” he says. “Come on, let’s order dinner.”

They both go to the couch and scroll through food delivery apps before settling on Italian food. It arrives soon after, and they enjoy their plates of Bucatini all’Amatriciana and pork ragú over polenta with a bottle of red wine that Yuki got from her selection.

As they finish their dishes and empty the bottle of wine in between conversations, Choso smiles. “Okay, wait here.”

Yuki cocks an eyebrow but stays seated as Choso goes to the kitchen, opens the fridge, and brings over the rectangular box that was previously in the plastic bag he was carrying as well as a fork. He places the box in front of Yuki and opens it, revealing a black and white… Well, Yuki isn’t sure what it is, but she knows it’s a dessert.

It has several stacked layers that reveal a story of textures: a crunchy graham crust, followed by a smooth dark layer, and a rich white cream, topped by another dark brown, almost black layer. A firm chocolate glaze, almost black as well, crowns the top, with a swirl of white chocolate and gold leaves in each corner. Accompanying the dessert is a white macaron placed on top of it, perfectly balanced on the dish and creating a harmony of black and white.

“Wow, that’s really pretty,” Yuki’s eyebrows are arched. “Is it a cake?”

“Yeah. It’s called an Opera Cake,” Choso says, handing her the fork. “Want to try it?”

“Of course,” Yuki smiles at him, grabbing the fork. “Never saw this being sold in the patisserie.”

“It’s not. I haven’t made it very often. This is probably the third Opera I’ve made in my life.”

Yuki smirks. “What made you want to make one, then?”

“I was… Inspired,” Choso says with a small smile, and his cheeks are blushed light pink. “By that outfit that you wore to the bakery one time. The black and white one. Thought I could make something black and white as well.”

Yuki remembers quite well when she showed up wearing that, the last time she went to the bakery to try one of his pastries before they went on a date—well, before she came over to help him with an order and they forgot all about the order and ended up fucking on the counter. Either way, she remembers plenty of how Choso was aghast by her outfit and how it put her curves on display.

“Well, I’ll make sure to wear it again, then, since it was so inspiring,” she teases him, making his cheeks burn brighter, and he chuckles. “Go on, tell me what this is and the history behind it.”

She isn’t teasing him then; she enjoys hearing him tell her all the fun facts behind the stuff he creates. It reminds her of how passionate he is about his work, which is undeniably so hot.

“It’s a citrus slice Opera. There’s a graham crust on the bottom, then a layer of chocolate cake and chocolate ganache, followed by a vanilla and citrus filling, and another layer of chocolate cake and ganache,” he explains as Yuki cuts a slice and eats it, humming in delight at the mix of the dark chocolate and the citrus and vanilla.

“Oh, this is amazing, Choso,” she compliments him, making him smile and blush harder. “For real, it’s so delicious. What’s the story behind it?”

“Hum, it’s a classic French dessert. It’s believed to have been created around the 50s by a pâtissier called Gavillon at a shop that is really renowned in Paris called Dalloyau. He wanted to create a cake whose flavors could be experienced in one bite, so the Opera Cake was born,” he says while she takes more bites, listening carefully and nodding as he speaks. “The name is to pay homage to the Paris Opera. The original recipe has layers of almond cake soaked in coffee syrup and layered with ganache and coffee buttercream. But I gave it my own twist, like usual. Though I can make you the original someday if you’d like.”

Yuki smiles, grabbing the macaron from the top of the Opera and taking a bite. “Seems like all the desserts you’ve made me are originally Parisian. Maybe we can go to Paris for our honeymoon, then.”

Choso’s eyes widen slightly, but he nods immediately and fervently. “Yeah. Paris. Honeymoon. We should—we will.”

Yuki chuckles, leaning towards Choso and pulling him closer by grabbing his chin. She presses her lips to his in a slow, deep kiss, tasting the wine on his tongue as it touches hers. She pulls away from their kiss slightly, both their eyes fluttering open, their faces still so close that their breaths are colliding.

“I love you, baker boy,” Yuki says, her voice barely above a whisper as her words hit his lips and make his heart do somersaults inside his ribcage.

Choso’s eyebrows shoot up in shock, his lips are parted, and his cheeks are flushed pink. No matter the fact that she has just mentioned their future honeymoon, he is still shocked to hear her say the three words. Not because he doesn’t feel the same way—he does, he overwhelmingly does. He just thought it would take longer for her to correspond to his feelings.

Passed a second of shock, he licks his lips before saying, “I love you too, Yuki. A lot.”

Her grin is wide as she pulls him into another kiss, and they are all but climbing onto the table to get closer to each other before Yuki redirects their movements to the bedroom—she would rather save the fucking on top of a counter to the bakery.

*

Each time that Choso visits Yuki after work, he brings her a baked good he saved for her that day, most of the time something that he made especially for her, something that is not on the menu. And he is visiting her and spending the night practically every day. When he spends his Mondays off with her, he bakes her something in her apartment. He’s always very busy with work during the day—and sometimes at night, too—but he always makes some time for Yuki and to bake her something special.

It took less than a month after they said ‘I love you’ for them to realize that Choso was spending more time at Yuki’s apartment than on his own and having to rush to his place in the mornings to shower and change before work. So, he moved to her apartment. It was closer to the bakery anyway, and it was a pretty big apartment for Tokyo standards, much like his own—plenty of space for the two of them.

It made sense. They both had met each other’s families already by that point as well; Yuki met Choso’s mom, Keiko, a retired baker, and Yuuji, Choso’s seventeen-year-old brother. Choso’s dad had died not long after Yuuji was born from liver cancer. Choso had also met Yuki’s parents—her mom, Asako, a gallery owner herself, and her father, Takumi, a renowned retired architect.

Yuki celebrated the move by changing her working schedule so she would have Mondays off like Choso and bought them matching pajama sets. They were both soft, fuzzy, cream-colored crewneck sweatshirts with cartoon bears embroidered in the center; Yuki’s bears were baby pink, and Choso’s were navy blue. The pants are a classic plaid pattern in shades of cream and grey, loose and also soft and fuzzy.

Their first Monday off after Choso moves in is overall lazy, and they don’t change from the matching pajamas at any point.

“Will you teach me how to bake something?” Yuki asks, seemingly out of nowhere, as they drink some tea in the afternoon, sitting on the couch and watching TV after they woke up from a nap. “For real this time. No easy stuff like making a glaze.”

Choso smiles tenderly at her. “Of course. What do you want to make?”

She thinks about it for a bit, but can’t come up with a good answer out of every amazing pastry she has tried in Choso’s patisserie. “Dunno. Surprise me.”

He nods and finishes his tea quickly to go to the grocery store. Yuki doesn’t argue when he says he can go on his own, and he changes from his pajamas to regular clothes, only to change back into the fuzzy pajamas when he gets back home with the groceries.

Yuki promptly gets to her feet and joins him in the kitchen as he takes out all the ingredients and the tools they will need. He melts some butter in the microwave and slides it closer to Yuki.

“Okay, start by mixing these graham cracker crumbs with the melted butter and a bit of sugar until it’s like a wet sand consistency. Then, you will press the mixture into the bottom of this pan. You want to make sure it’s even and compact,” he instructs her while twisting the oven knobs to the preheating setting.

“Sure thing, chef,” Yuki smiles and does as she is told. “What are we making?”

“Didn’t you want to be a surprise?” Choso gives her a half-smile, tossing some blueberries into a pan on the stove. “Though I think you will figure it out pretty quickly. It’s not rocket science.”

Yuki smirks at him, but she doesn’t try to analyze what they are doing too much so it’s an actual surprise at the end. She finishes pressing the mixture to the pan as Choso finishes with the blueberries, and together, they spread it on top of the graham cracker crust.

“Okay, I’m gonna mix these ingredients now, and you’re gonna add eggs one at a time as I tell you to until it’s all combined and creamy,” Choso says, and she nods.

He goes on to mix cream cheese, sugar, and vanilla extract until it’s smooth and nods to her to add the eggs, repeating the process until the mixture is to his liking.

“You can pour it over the jam, now,” he tells her, handing her the bowl. She does it carefully, ensuring that the mixture is spread evenly. “Alright. We can bake it, now.”

After they slide the mixture into the oven, Yuki claps her hands and smiles. “What now?”

“Now we wait.”

She frowns. “Wait? For how long?”

“About fifty minutes,” Choso says.

Yuki pouts and crosses her arms. “That’s a long time…”

Choso chuckles, grabbing Yuki by her waist and pulling her closer until their chests are flush with each other’s. He presses a peck to her pouting lips, still smiling.

“You have to be patient with baking. Come on, let’s have another cup of tea. Sit down on the couch, I’ll bring it for you,” he says, making her pout break into a slight smile as she nods.

They drink the tea on the couch, but Yuki is still thinking about the dessert and how long it is taking. When they finish drinking the tea, it’s still nowhere near done. She’s asking him how much longer until it’s done every five minutes like a bored child on a long road trip.

“Chosoooo,” she whines, climbing onto his lap and straddling him. She wraps her arms around his neck and presses her cheek to his, making him smile. “Can’t we just take it out of the oven just a bit earlier?”

He chuckles, wrapping his arms around her waist. “No, we can’t, baby. It’s going to be raw and not good. Plus, we could get salmonella from the raw eggs.”

“Mm, next time, teach me how to make something quicker,” she says. Suddenly, something clicks in her mind and she pulls back slightly to look at him. “Wait, this is payback, isn’t it?”

Choso frowns. “Huh?”

“You’re testing my patience because I’m always testing your patience,” she says, and when she smirks, he knows exactly what she is talking about. He laughs, shaking his head.

“I’m not. And I wouldn’t say you test my patience. It’s more like testing my ability to hold back, maybe,” he says.

Yuki is still smirking as she tilts her head. “Would love to see you not holding back someday. But if this baking thing takes longer than the promised fifty minutes, you won’t be coming at all tonight.”

Choso is torn between a low chuckle, flushed cheeks, and a mild boner.

“That feels unfair. You were the one who asked for me to teach you how to bake. Baking takes time,” he tries to reason with her, already anticipating the torture he will be going through later.

“I don’t make the rules,” Yuki shrugs, playing with his hair and scratching his scalp.

“Mm, I don’t know, feels like you do,” he says, and she gives him a devilish grin, but before she can say anything, the alarm on Choso’s phone rings, signaling that the dessert is done baking, and Yuki nearly flies off his lap.

He chuckles at her excitement. As someone who bakes every day, even if it is what he loves doing, it’s not something Choso gets excited about anymore. It is endearing to see Yuki so overjoyed about something that is so trivial to him, and he’s glad that he is able to provide that happiness to her with something as simple as teaching her how to bake.

Yuki insists on removing the dessert from the oven herself, and it’s quite obvious at this point—from the beginning, really—what it is, but she still pretends she doesn’t know just for fun. Choso doesn’t ask her about it either, trying to keep the mystery as well.

Yuki has a big smile on her face as she sees the dessert that has taken form since being in the oven, and takes her oven mitts off.

“Okay, we have to let it cool for a bit,” Choso says, and Yuki looks at him, her face dropping.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” she is angry and feeling like she’s getting edged by the dessert like she has edged Choso so many times.

Choso laughs. “It’s okay, we have other stuff to do in the meantime. First, we’ll zest and juice some lemons.”

Yuki puffs her cheeks, but she follows his lead and helps him zest and juice the lemons. After that, they whisk them with sugar and eggs in a pan to make a thick glaze.

“Okay, the meringue now. We’re almost done, I promise,” Choso says, and Yuki smiles, leaning over and kissing his cheek.

“It’s okay. I’m having fun,” she gives him a genuine smile. “I like doing stuff with you. And baking is fun.”

Choso smiles back, and he instructs her to whisk the egg whites and sugar to create the meringue. He slices a piece of the dessert and places it in front of her.

“Alright, first drizzle the lemon curd on top, then do the meringue,” he tells her, and she does it, as carefully as she can. It doesn’t look as beautiful as when he did it, but it still looks delicious. “Let’s torch the meringue now.”

“I don’t have a blowtorch,” Yuki says, frowning. She barely cooks, why does he expect her to have a blowtorch?

“I know,” Choso chuckles. “I brought mine when I moved in. Here.”

He gets the blowtorch from one of the cabinets, and Yuki is still doubting if she should be trusted with open fire when she has just baked something for the first time in her life.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“It’s okay. You have steady hands, they will be perfect for this. Just torch them until they are golden but not burnt,” Choso says, and, feeling her confidence getting a boost, she twists the knob of the blowtorch and presses on the handle, immediately getting surprised by the strength of the flame.

Once she gets used to it, she lowers the flame to the meringue and hovers it over it until it is toasted golden.

And they are finally done—done making the same cheesecake Choso made for Yuki the first time he baked something specifically for her. It looks slightly wonkier because of her participation in it, but as they eat it, it tastes just as good.

“This still might be my favorite dessert you’ve made for me,” Yuki says after swallowing another forkful, and Choso smiles, eating a piece of it as they sit side by side at the dining table.

“Well, you made it this time,” he says, and she beams a proud smile.

“I did. I did all the waiting and even used a fucking blowtorch without burning our apartment down,” she says, making him chuckle. “Still can’t believe you let me do that. I really could’ve killed us.”

He leans in and kisses her lips briefly, pulling away with a smile. “I knew you would be good at it. You’re good at everything you do. You’ve always been like that.”

Yuki smiles, her cheeks burning pink. She kisses him once more, humming as she tastes the lemon and blueberry on his tongue, before pushing him away by his chest. “Stop distracting me. I want to enjoy my masterpiece.”

Choso chuckles, letting go of her and taking another piece for himself as well, as they both spend the rest of their Monday off enjoying their recreation of the first dessert Choso made especially for Yuki.

*

Choso absolutely loves baking, but he feels like if he pipes one more éclair, decorates one more tartelette, or stacks up one more mille-feuille, he’s going to lose it.

It’s the one-year anniversary of the Miyabi Patisserie, and in addition to the promotions they are doing all day, they are also throwing a little get-together at night for the community and the investors.

Which means all hands on deck. Hands that now include Yuki’s, whose only expertise in baking is the time she glazed a few éclairs before tossing them on the floor to fuck Choso on top of the bakery’s counter and the few baked goods Choso has taught her how to make since they moved in together.

It matters very little that she is underqualified; they really need all the help they can get to make the event happen. And despite this being far from Yuki’s element, Choso notices that she seems to be extremely comfortable with walking around wearing an apron and helping the bakers however she can.

She’s having deep emotional talks with Emiko, the fifty-year-old Senior Baker woman with soft grey eyes, listening to her talk about her son and his problematic wife. She’s watching carefully as Aoi, the thirty-year-old female Junior Baker with auburn hair, explains to her the physics of perfectly placing rose buds and gold leaves on top of pastries. She’s laughing with Takeshi, the forty-year-old Bread Artisan man with platinum hair, as he points at one of his tattoos and tells her the story behind it.

It warms Choso’s heart and gives him some peace on a day when he has had none. She fits just right into his life, in every aspect he could think of. There’s no situation that Yuki cannot adapt to and thrive on, apparently.

And it shows at night as well, when the small celebration starts. Choso insists that she doesn’t have to work during it, so she changes back into her regular clothes and retires the apron for the night.

She is wearing a statement leather jacket with a dynamic color block design of black, white, and striking red, buttoned at the very top and with the zipper undone. Underneath, she wears a black cropped tank top that clings to her form, paired with a high-waisted black skirt that flares gently away from her hips in an A-line silhouette. There’s a chunky silver belt with a big round buckle on top of the skirt as an accessory, small silver hoops in her ears, as well as platform black boots on her feet.

Yuki mingles with the guests and makes small talk whilst eating the items she helped prepare throughout the day, everything from small sandwiches and canapés to all sorts of pastries, paired with champagne that she chose and bought in bulk when Choso said he would be serving soft drinks. She was so taken aback he might as well have told her that he intended to shoot her during the event.

The night is a success, and it’s no small feat. Everyone worked hard, both before and during, to ensure that everything was running perfectly. That includes Yuki, who made conversation with all of Choso’s investors and loyal customers, reassuring them of Choso’s talent not only for baking but also for business.

She even got to meet the person who made the egregious order that led Choso to cancel their first date—an order he was never able to fulfill because, well, he was way too busy with other matters to even care about the pastries. She apologized profusely to them, taking the full blame and saying that she distracted Choso that night, though she didn’t admit to how exactly she did that.

Choso is running around all night, busy between talking to people and making sure the food is being served correctly, but Yuki doesn’t go unnoticed by him. She’s a natural at networking—of course, it’s a big part of her job. Every group and conversation she joins turns into big smiles and laughter, and she’s constantly cheering and clinking her champagne flute with other people.

He’s not great at it. Choso is shy; his element is in the kitchen, baking, not mingling and selling himself. But whenever she notices that he is struggling, Yuki swoops into the conversation and introduces herself, taking the reins and letting him stay in the background, where he is comfortable.

He loves her more than she could possibly imagine for it.

When the event finally ends, and everyone leaves, the bakery is a mess, Choso is exhausted, and Yuki is buzzed from all the champagne she had during the night.

Choso is considering starting cleaning the place then and there, but Yuki laces her arms around his neck, her eyes half-lidded and her lips parted in a lazy grin from the alcohol. He gives her a half smile, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Did you have fun?” Yuki asks.

“It was a bit hectic, but yes, thanks to you,” he smiles at her affectionately.

“Me? I didn’t do anything,” she says.

“You helped a lot. Both with the preparation and with the networking. Like I said before, you are good at everything you do,” Choso smiles. “It’s impressive. I’ve always noticed that about you.”

She tilts her head, her grin growing bigger. “Yeah? Always?”

“Yeah. You are still the same girl I fell in love with when I was twelve.”

It might be the alcohol buzzing through her veins, but Choso’s words make Yuki tear up. Her eyes are glistening as she leans over, pressing her lips to his in a searing kiss. It’s sweet and romantic, yet needy all the same.

“I love you, baker boy,” she whispers against his lips.

“I love you more,” he whispers back.