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She was attractive. It was love at first sight, instant and inevitable.
On the other side of the bar, in front of the register, the girl looked at him expectantly, waiting for his answer. He cleared his throat, feeling nervous under her intense gaze. He glanced back at the menu behind her and stammered out a drink he didn't even recognize.
She scanned his order and processed the payment.
When he handed her the money, their fingers brushed, and he could have sworn an electric current passed between them. He looked at her face again, but found it impassive. She returned his change, and he thanked her.
He moved to the other end of the bar to wait for his drink, but every now and then he glanced discreetly in her direction.
It was fate; he was sure of it.
From then on, he visited the café as often as he could, hoping to see her.
Although she wasn't always on duty, he learned several things about her: her name was Maki, she wore her hair in a ponytail, she didn't always wear glasses, but she was beautiful with or without them. Most of the time, she gave off an unapproachable vibe, but she was kind when serving customers. Also, her laugh was deep, and although it was rare, it made her even more special. She would make sarcastic comments to some of the staff members—those with whom she seemed to be close.
He thought he couldn't possibly be more attracted to her, but he was wrong.
One afternoon, he walked into the shop and saw her holding a vase with a simple pastel floral arrangement—he thought it would clash with her personality—but the sight was beautiful: her smile was gentle, and her eyes held a sparkle he'd never seen before. She chatted with another employee with short hair—he wished he could hear what they were saying, though he did manage to catch her saying "pretty" and seeing a soft smile he'd never witnessed. He was speechless and felt his heart race.
He was definitely smitten.
So, this was another side of her he'd discovered: despite her tough, cool exterior, she was actually sensitive and delicate.
After weeks of visiting the café and observing her, two important things happened. First, Maki seemed to recognize him. A slight nod and a kind tone—he felt like he was on cloud nine!—when she prepared his drink, she gave him an extra shot of caffeine. It was truly amazing.
Second—and awful—there was an employee who managed to make her smile. Although he benefited from this sight, he also felt a pit in his stomach.
The young man seemed to be her age, and there was undoubtedly a deeper camaraderie between them than with any other staff member. At first glance, the young man hadn't seemed particularly remarkable, but next to Maki, he was taller and looked like someone who also worked out. Black hair, dark blue eyes, a gentle aura, and dark circles under his eyes that seemed pronounced, a slight contrast to his skin. His voice was kind, and his disposition was noticeable.
At first, the guy went unnoticed by him—he was only focused on Maki after all—but over time, it became impossible to ignore the guy’s presence and the interactions shared with Maki. It couldn't have been anything important, but it was difficult to ignore them when he saw them talking so naturally and intimately.
"tsk , how many times do I have to say this?" Her reprimand wasn't sharp; it was more of a gentle exasperation. "Fix your collar."
Although she complained, Maki took care of it for him. She readjusted the collar of his shirt: her words were firm, but her actions were gentle.
The boy laughed sheepishly, without making an excuse. He remained still while her hands readjusted not only his collar but also smoothed the fabric on his shoulder.
"Thank you, Maki-san," he said, his smile radiant.
She sighed in exasperation, but a faint smile curved her lips. "You're a lost cause. Oh, go take the order."
They finally noticed him, but neither seemed embarrassed about being seen during their exchange; it was obvious this behavior was a recurring theme.
"Welcome, ready to order?" the guy asked, kind and attentive.
He ordered something, trying not to be consumed by depressing thoughts.
His name was Yūta.
Without meaning to, he'd been observing him, trying to decipher his relationship with Maki.
So far, he hadn't succeeded, as their relationship was somewhat ambiguous to him. He could assume it was just a close friendship, but his instinct told him it was more than that. However, he had no concrete proof. When they shared a shift, they sometimes chatted when the customer flow was slow. Yūta smiled easily at anyone, and Maki didn't seem like the reserved type. Aside from the occasional whispers they shared, he saw no other clues that would allow him to know there was something between them.
Relieved, he focused his attention on Maki again. He thought he could try asking for her number now.
"Oh, how lovely!"
The squeal caught his attention—it was impossible for it not to, with such a powerful voice. He saw the short brown-haired employee milling around the bouquet of flowers in a young man's arms.
It was Yūta. At first, he hadn't recognized him because he wasn't wearing his uniform; his casual attire and calm demeanor didn't make him stand out. Yūta was sitting two tables away, but he still managed to hear the commotion from the brunette girl he'd identified as Nobara.
He looked at them curiously. Yūta was smiling contentedly, a barely perceptible blush on his face.
He raised an eyebrow in doubt. Could it be? If so, it would be good news. The thought of those two being in a relationship lifted a weight from his chest—a weight he didn't want to admit he felt.
He was so engrossed in his "discovery" that he didn't notice Yūta get up and leave with someone.
He basked in his relief; in high spirits, he waited to see Maki.
But after a while, disappointment was inevitable when he realized that her shift had ended and that she had probably left without him noticing.
Another day, he told himself. The next time he saw her, he'd ask.
His lips trembled, and his voice refused to come out. His mouth felt dry, and a painful nervousness churned in his stomach, as if his guts were churning. Maki was looking at him with bewilderment—and deep beneath it all was the irritation she had to suppress because she was dealing with an annoying customer.
He swallowed hard and tried again:
"C-could you give me your number...?"
"Huh?"
He flinched at the displeased tone, but more so at the irritation that was so visible on her face. Her gaze, in particular, made him nervous; it was as if she wanted to punch him.
"I-I want to get to know you better and-"
"Maki, why don't you take your break now? I'll manage the register until Nobara arrives," a tall man with white hair interrupted. He'd seen him before; he thought he was the manager. His tone was cheerful, as was his mood, even though he was wearing sunglasses despite being inside the store.
Maki looked at the man skeptically, but a slight snort and a curt "fine" were enough. The man gave him a smile that sent shivers down his spine, even though it was almost radiant.
"Well, how about we hear that order, dear customer?"
He felt nervous in a different way, so he forced himself to speak and order a simple cold Americano.
Another time, then.
But several days passed, and Maki wasn't back at the front taking orders again. Sometimes he saw her preparing drinks or heard her voice from where he assumed the supply room was.
His visits remained regular, but his mood only worsened. He thought about quitting, but as if by divine intervention, something happened:
"Kya! Maki-san! Look, look!" Nobara called out to the girl of his dreams in her usual powerful, somewhat boisterous voice. Straightening his posture and straining his ears, he turned toward the bar. "Look what just arrived!"
A floral arrangement sat on the counter: a small basket with a ribbon around it and flowers of different sizes and colors. Nobara was practically melting at the sight.
"What's wrong?"
It was her. Finally.
And like a shipwrecked sailor about to perish, being rescued, he was able to see Maki's beautiful face for the first time in days.
"A delivery guy brought it!"
Maki reached Nobara. She looked a little surprised and didn't say a word for a few seconds. The other girl chattered around her, almost wanting to jump, but she settled for putting her hands to her face and saying things that managed to wake Maki up—he couldn't hear what, but he didn't care because everything was forgotten when he saw the face of the girl he was in love with light up. Soft gaze, gentle smile. She nodded at whatever Nobara said, and it only prompted more excited noises from her.
Maki took her phone and talked to someone while her soft smile grew brighter, but there was a subtle shyness about it. Nobara took the flower arrangement and carried it to the back of the café, Maki following behind.
He was mesmerized, gazing at her, his body seemingly floating above his seat. He was oblivious to everything around him—how could not he be?—when his resolve returned stronger than before.
He was mentally reciting his words, his declaration, when a familiar voice snapped him out of his reverie.
"Hohoho... my dear little cousin, you're such a romantic," the white-haired man, whom he assumed was the manager, was chatting animatedly with someone at a nearby table.
"Satoru, please. Not again."
He also recognized the other voice.
"But it's absolutely true. Look at you."
Turning slightly to get a better look, he confirmed it was Yūta. In his arms, a bouquet of flowers similar to the one from last time.
Huh? Was it that Nobara girl again? Since he'd been paying attention to all the staff who interacted with Maki, he could almost say he knew their personalities. Nobara was fiery, with a powerful voice and a somewhat difficult demeanor. Maki also had a strong personality—he sensed it, but he never saw her act like Nobara—whereas Yūta was...well, different from her. He was gentle, kind, and incredibly patient. He supposed opposites attracted, but something inside him still told him those two didn't make a good couple. Anyway, that wasn't his concern.
He was only interested in Maki.
"Your salary goes to flowers, huh? Young people are supposed to know how to manage their money these days."
"That's not how it is."
"What, your salary, your poor money management, or the fact that you're always buying her flowers?" He put his arm around Yūta's shoulders, pulling him closer; his other hand in front of his face, index finger raised, as if he were teaching him a lesson: "Now, let your sensei give you some love advice: thoughtful gestures are appreciated more when they're given at special moments."
"You're not in a position to give him advice, Satoru," a tall, somewhat heavyset young man wearing a "I ❤︎ panda" t-shirt chimed in.
“I’ve never met one of Gojo’s girlfriends,” a boy with messy black hair and a serious expression commented as he approached and sat down, drink in hand.
“Or boyfriend,” a boy with pink hair chuckled.
“Oh, what’s this? An ambush? And for your information, I’m a Casanova. And kids don’t need to know about an adult’s private moments.”
“It’s ridiculous that you call us ‘kids.’ Remember, you’re reviewing my thesis?”
"Hey, Satoru, I think you should be the one learning from Yūta."
The aforementioned sighed, as if exhausted by the situation he was in.
He recognized all these people; they were part of the staff, although they weren't wearing their uniforms at that moment. He was a little surprised by the interactions; it was obvious that they were all close both inside and outside of work. And if this Satoru guy was Yūta's cousin, that meant Yūta was constantly around him. Besides working in the same place, obviously. He felt a little sorry for the young man, since this Satoru guy seemed like someone difficult to deal with. And exhausting, too.
"But we were talking about how Yūta is overly attentive to his darling, remember? Flowers are only meant for anniversaries or after arguments, and the former was a month ago, wasn't it?"
“That’s not true,” Yūta finally interrupted. “I… for me, every day is a special moment with her, that’s why…” His voice trailed off, perhaps aware of his own words or the blush on his face.
“Gah! You’re so sweet it’s almost cloying! Who would’ve thought you two would end up like this? Aren’t you grateful that I introduced you and put you on the same shift since you started working?”
Yūta, blushing, nodded shyly, which made Satoru squeal again.
“You never cease to amaze me, Okkotsu-senpai,” the black-haired boy said, looking impressed.
“Please don’t act like that with her,” Yūta said to Satoru, ignoring the others’ comments. “I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable.
"Ah, family comes first, then relationships, you know?" Satoru feigned offense, but his tone betrayed the opposite.
Yūta shook his head. "No. Besides… she'll be my family too."
"…wow, I don't know if you're being brave or careless to say that here."
The others groaned, as if they'd tasted something overly saccharine.
"You're a hopeless romantic," the man shook his head slightly, but his smile was wide. Satoru stood up, practically dragged Yūta -with flowers in his arms-, as they headed to the back of the shop, to the door reserved for staff only. "Now, while I take you to your sweetheart, why don't we talk about that thing you just mentioned, hm?"
The big guy followed them and mentioned it was time for his shift. Only the serious-faced boy and the pink-haired one remained at the table.
"I'm still surprised by what senpai said, so easily."
"I doubt it's that easy, but they've been together for years. Besides, Okkotsu-senpai has always been like that. He's more assertive than you'd think."
"You can say that again. I thought Maki-senpai was the one with the unwavering character... but it's funny to see when she gets embarrassed. Although the last time I laughed, she hit me."
"You let out the loudest laugh. What did you expect? I’m surprised Maki only hit you once. You should be thankful towards Okkotsu-senpai for stopping her."
"Yeah, but I thought Nobara would defend me."
"She was engrossed, admiring Okkotsu-senpai's gift."
"Ah, that was funny too. When she saw him arrive, she made a face, but as soon as she saw the gift, I swear her eyes lit up.
"Her attitude toward him changed immediately upon seeing that bracelet."
"Dude, I don't understand girls' obsession with jewelry. Senpai is definitely going to go broke."
"Ha, as if Gojo isn't going to leave him his business."
He felt dizzy from all the information that seemed to be drilling into his head. He heard everything, but he struggled to fully understand it. What caught his attention the most was Maki's name, but he didn't think they would say anything relevant. However, he felt confused. Their conversation had told him so much, but it was like jumbled pieces of a puzzle.
"Could you stop? You're annoying."
Ah, Maki. He looked up, searched for her, and saw her with her back to him. She seemed to be arguing with that Satoru guy. Immediately, his heart began to pound; he could almost feel it thumping in his ears.
Today was the day. He was ready, and his confession was on repeat in his head. This time, he would speak loud and clear, he would appear confident, he would give her the impression of being decisive, and he wouldn't take no for an answer. Based on her strong personality, he assumed Maki would be attracted to someone decisive and self-assured. Like the "alpha" men he'd heard about on some podcast but didn't quite understand.
With a final nervous sigh, he stood up. He paid no attention to anything or anyone else; his gaze was solely focused on the face of the girl who had captivated him. Maki was heading for the exit; her shift was over. Before she reached the door, he intercepted her. She stopped abruptly, perplexed by the interruption. It took a moment to recognize him, and when it did, she looked at him with clear doubt.
He swallowed, a few erratic seconds passed, and just as she was about to resume walking, he spoke:
"I fell in love with you, then... let's go out."
If it weren't for the ringing in his ears, he would have noticed the deathly silence that filled the room. He did his best not to collapse, keeping his chin up, his gaze fixed on her. He hadn't been this close to Maki in a long time, but he could see that she was shorter than him. Well, he was sure he projected dominance and confidence. His ex had said that was something women found attractive.
But he didn't get the reaction he expected. An irritated snort escaped Maki's lips; her eyes seemed to pierce his head, and her gaze was deadly. Her face showed clear displeasure. He felt nervous again.
"Why would I do that?" Her words were like a punch to the gut. Even though she was only slightly shorter than he, it was as if she looked down on him. "There's nothing I hate more than guys like that. Rude, ill-mannered jerks."
He heard a chuckle in the background and was all too aware that they were being watched. He wanted to take a step back or leave, but his feet were glued to the floor.
"Maki-san, that wasn't nice."
He glanced behind the girl. He hadn't noticed Yūta was there—how could he, when he'd only been focused on her?
The young man touched her arm gently, and she glanced at him over her shoulder, still a little irritated. Yūta's gaze was soft but firm. Maki pursed her lips slightly and turned her attention back to him. But he couldn't tear his eyes away from Yūta's hand, which was still in contact with Maki. And, in fact, he looked down at her arms and the bouquet of flowers she held tightly against her chest, like something precious.
Oh, this was that feeling that had been churning in his stomach. He suspected it, but ignored it.
Maki muttered something he couldn't quite hear.
"I'm seeing someone, so I can't."
He nodded. "I understand."
He understood because of the person beside her. Because of the closeness that had always been there, the one he'd chosen not to see. Because of the glances and conversations between them that he couldn't decipher. Because of the smile he'd only ever seen when she received those flowers. The same ones he'd seen Yūta carrying, but which he'd misunderstood.
Without another word, Maki walked around him—he was still unable to move—and continued toward the door, bouquet in her arms, not looking at him again. It would have been best if he also took a step back, but he couldn't help but keep watching her. Her face, her profile, her hair -which was always in a ponytail- now loose down her back. With that, something else also happened: his gaze met Yūta's. The gentle, docile aura that always surrounded him was gone. In its place, an almost cold and eerie seriousness. There was no grimace of anger or displeasure on his face, only a cold calm and a warning that didn't need to be shouted. He felt goosebumps rise on his skin, and a familiar shiver ran down the back of his neck. The glances exchanged were brief, barely an instant, but it had left him as exhausted as if he'd lived through an entire ordeal. The doorbell chimed as it opened, letting in the cool night air, and the couple left. Only when the door closed could he breathe again.
"Well, that wasn't interesting."
"Phew... sometimes I forget that senpai can be more intimidating than Maki-senpai."
"We shouldn't be watching this."
"Ah, Megumi, it's too late to say that. Hey, dear customer, drinks are on the house today."
He sighed in defeat. He should leave, but a free drink sounded like some consolation. He turned around and headed towards the bar.
"How about something warm and sweet to soothe your broken heart?"
He nodded.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
"Ah," he sighed wearily, "I can't let my guard down. Maki-san had received yet another confession."
She looked at him wearily, still clutching a bouquet of flowers in her arms. They walked to the subway station.
"It's a pain."
"No, but I completely understand. Maki-san, you're stunning and strong, and you have a beautiful heart and an unbreakable spirit. Anyone would be drawn to you."
"Now you're just exaggerating," she grumbled, but the blush on her cheeks was from the sudden compliment (though nothing new from her boyfriend), and she doubted she'd ever get used to it.
"I have to try harder, that way, Maki-san, you'll never think about leaving me."
"You're definitely talking nonsense."
There was a pout on his face, like a puppy that wasn't getting any attention. She huffed, not really bothered, suppressing a laugh. Just moments ago, she'd thought her night was going to be a drag, but the more she talked to Yūta, the more the work incident seemed to fade from her mind.
"Ah, but maybe I can't give you any more presents for a while."
That was weird. "It's not necessary. And I've told you many times that you don't have to do it all the time."
"I don't do it enough for you to say 'all the time.' It's not an obligation, and it's definitely necessary," he said, sounding too proud, but then his tone returned to seriousness. "But, well, I talked to Satoru..."
Maki rolled her eyes, waiting to hear what her idiot boss had advised her boyfriend. Probably something stupid again.
“And… I think I should manage my spending a little better. Although giving you flowers and other gifts isn’t a waste at all,” he took her hand and admired the bracelet she was wearing. He smiled gently. Maki smiled back. “But I want to save up for something better.”
“Hm? And what is it?”
His smile changed; it was as if he were trying to hold it back, yet excited. His eyes shone with visible emotion and adoration.
“I’ll tell you later.”
He shouldn’t have brought it up if he wasn’t planning on telling her everything. Fine, she would wait; she knew Yūta enjoyed surprising her with thoughtful gestures, so she would indulge him. The ride to his apartment was filled with pleasant conversation about what they would have for dinner, whether they should watch a movie or a show, plans for their weekend… and during that time, Yūta didn’t let go of her hand. Maki didn't notice anything out of the ordinary, and Yūta's constant caresses of her hand were nothing new, so she didn't notice the unusual insistence on her ring finger.
"Did you like the flowers?" Yūta asked with interest and anticipation as she placed them in a vase on the coffee table after they arrived at the apartment.
She returned to his side, wrapped her arms around his neck, and he obeyed, leaning in slightly until their faces were close and their lips touched. After the kiss, they didn't break apart; Maki's eyes were closed, but she could feel his smile against her lips.
That was answer enough, wasn't it?
Yūta always asked her that, as if he didn't know. But Maki knew he just wanted to make sure it wasn't something she disliked or found boring. To tell the truth, Maki never considered herself someone who longed for those kinds of gestures, but Yūta always wanted to express his love in every way she would let him, and this was one of them. And while it had made her a little embarrassed at first, from the first time he gave her flowers, it had taken her breath away.
Ah, maybe I am that kind of person. But only with him. Only because of him.