Eyes Like Honey - A Sakurai Sho Fanfic (19/?)
Pairing: Sakurai Sho x Fictional Female (Reader) *see note below
Rating: R for whole series, PG for Ch.19
Genre: Romance, Drama
Word count: 6,588
Plot: A 33-year-old singleton, Nijishima Kokoro, finds herself at a host club where she meets the club's most popular host, Sakurai Sho. The encounter propels Kokoro to explore a different kind of love as Sho helps Kokoro discover herself.
NOTE: This story reads like a shoujo manga--it is written in a fictitious first-person narrative where the reader is the protagonist. Please proceed with caution if you are uncomfortable with JE members having relationships with fictitious female characters (even if that female is you!).
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18
Chapter Nineteen: Two Invitations and A Dessert
“Nijishima?”
The owner of the voice approached me and peered in to confirm and remove all doubt.
“Ah! I knew it was y… are you okay?”
Defined eyebrows, eyelashes for miles, and three moles on and near his lips. He was wearing a cap but I knew exactly who had stopped me.
“Ban-chan…” My voice trailed off as more tears rolled down my face, relieved at seeing someone I knew.
His concerned expression was a breath of fresh air, a stark contrast from what I had seen earlier on another man I thought I knew. Ban-chan hesitated for a moment before grabbing my forearm and pulling me to the edge of the sidewalk. He stood in front of me so that his body blocked the view from curious pedestrians. I appreciated how considerate he was, especially now when I felt so weak and lost.
Ban-chan brought his right hand behind his neck and massaged it uncomfortably. I cast my gaze downward toward the ground but it only worked in favor of gravity as tears streamed down my face at record speed. It was all I could do to keep myself together.
“Let’s go.” My former classmate grabbed my arm again and led the way.
I wasn’t sure where we were headed…not that I would have been able to see where we were going, anyway, what with my vision blurred from all the crying. My legs felt weak, so I appreciated that someone was helping me get away from the very person my heart yearned to see. The hand that held my arm wasn’t forceful but it was clear he wasn’t going to let go. I let him lead the way. Because let’s be honest: where else would I go?
“Get in.”
After wiping my tears away with my fingers, I looked up to find a black sports car with the passenger door opened. His eyes ushered me to take a seat. I accepted his invitation without hesitation.
Once he got into the driver’s seat, he turned on the ignition to cool the muggy air. Perhaps he was purposefully not looking my way to give me space to gather myself. He took off his cap and combed through his long, black bangs. It fell in an untidy manner, lacking volume and falling to the side to cover his temple. Ban-chan put his right elbow on the window and rested his chin on his hand, his eyes looking out the window.
“You can cry all you want now without having to worry about what others might think.”
Is that what he was doing? Giving me a safe space to break into pieces? I bit my lips to try and fight the tears, but the battle was lost. My shoulders twitched upward with each inhale as I cried uncontrollably, tears flowing in copious amounts. I hugged my purse tightly, hoping it would somehow keep my heart from bursting. In the background, I could faintly hear classical music and Ban-chan’s slow, regular breathing. I appreciated that he asked me no questions; he simply offered me a safe space to release the pain.
I wasn’t sure how much time had past when I finally calmed down. The back of my forehead throbbed and my bloodshot eyes felt raw as I covered them with my hands. I took a deep breath and turned to face Ban-chan. He was still in the same position, chin on his hand and looking out into the city. When we first arrived at the car, I didn’t pay any attention to where he was parked. Only now could I make out a neon sign at the entrance to this parking lot displaying hourly rates.
“Oh, my gosh… how long was I crying?” I felt bad for taking up his time.
He didn’t look my way but answered my question. “Mm… 30-40 minutes?”
“I’m so sorry…! Here, let me pay for parking. I’ve kept you long enough.” I rummaged through my purse and pulled out my wallet.
“Nijishima.” He finally turned around to look at me. “Is that seriously the first thing you’re going to say to me?”
“...Hm? O-Oh, uh, thank you. This is the least I can do.” I pulled out some bills and extended my arm toward him.
He rubbed his neck again as a concerned smile crossed his face. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
I tilted my head, confused.
“You’re so observant that you worry about others all the time. Why don’t you do the same for yourself once in a while?” Ban-chan pursed his lips and scolded.
A weak sigh left me. The same point can be made about you, too, Ban-chan. How else would you know me so well, despite not having seen nor spoken to me in decades? I smiled faintly in agreement. “You’re right.”
He smiled back, his long eyelashes fluttering as he blinked. “Are you hungry?”
“...Huh?”
“Because I’m starving.” He put the car in drive.
“W-Wait, I didn’t answer your question,” I stammered.
“How about, in exchange for my time, you give me yours?” He raised his eyebrows playfully.
Before I could answer, we were at the payment booth. He took out his wallet, rolled down the window, and placed a few bills in the machine. The bar opened to let us through, and we were on the road soon after. As I reluctantly put my money away, I wondered where he was taking me. His long, slender fingers gripped the wheel as they tapped along to the tempo of the music, the freckle on his left middle finger playing hide-and-seek.
“The last time we sat this close to each other was in middle school,” he chuckled. “Remember when you forgot your eraser for that big test?”
The fond memories came flooding back. “Yeah, you cut yours in half for me,” I smiled. “Thanks to you, I got a 92.”
He scratched the top of his nose and laughed. “Or that one time in science class when you were paired with Yamane?”
-
“All right, today you’ll be learning about corrosion and how different pH levels affect rates of said corrosion. I’ve divided you all up into twos, so find your partner and sit accordingly.”
The one thing I disliked more than science class itself was the fact that our teacher wouldn’t let us pick our own partners for lab. I dragged my feet to the paper posted on the chalkboard to see who I was paired with this time.
“Looks like we’re together,” Yamane-kun approached me before I could even glance at the list.
He was one of the popular guys in class. Tall, athletic build and in the top 3 academically, it didn’t surprise me that girls fawned over him. Being “one of the boys,” though, I never really looked at guys in that way. Maybe it was a defense mechanism: if I didn’t let myself have feelings for any of them, then it wouldn’t hurt too badly when I found out they didn’t see me in that light, either. As jealous glances darted in my direction, I sat down at the lab table dreading having to interact with him.
“Consider yourself lucky,” he hummed as he took his seat. “Out of all the girls in class, you get to spend the whole hour with me.”
Ugh. I threw up a little in my mouth.
“Can we just focus on finishing this experiment?” I mumbled, annoyed.
“Don’t be so cold, Nijishima. That’s why guys misunderstand you; you come off as this cold-hearted person and don’t give them a chance to really get to know you.”
My eyes couldn’t roll back into my head any farther. For a smart guy, he was pretty stupid when it came to taking a hint. No, shit, Sherlock. Why do you think I’m being cold to you now? I ignored him and began the experiment. But, he was persistent.
“How about you let me get to know you better?” He stood behind me and placed his hands on the table at either side of my body. His chest was touching my back and his face was right next to mine. I could hear gasps and whispering from classmates. Great. How do I explain this situation?
“Nijishima.”
Another voice called my name. When I turned to see who it was, I was surprised to find that he was standing right next to Yamane-kun.
“My partner’s sick and I can’t do the experiment alone. The teacher told me to pick a group to join. Do you mind?”
Ban-chan spoke only to me, completely ignoring Yamane-kun. Still, the body touching my back strangely peeled away as more whispering reached our ears. It was a relief seeing a friendly face. I secretly and selfishly thanked his partner for being sick.
“No… I don’t mind at all. Could you grab those beakers and label them for me?”
He grinned as he grabbed a roll of tape and a sharpie. “On it.”
--
“You really saved my butt that time,” I replied.
“Most girls in class would have glared at me for interrupting such an opportune moment,” Ban-chan reminded.
“As you’re well aware, I’m not ‘most girls,’” I chuckled.
He tapped his thumb on the wheel a few times. “You really aren’t.”
A dry laugh escaped my lips. “I’m ‘one of the boys,’ remember?”
He puckered his lips, looking slightly irritated. “That’s not what I said.”
“Hm?”
“Never mind,” he sighed. “We’re here.”
I looked out the window. It seemed as though we had parked at a private lot. I opened the door to figure out where this was, but my nose picked up on the clue first. Lingering scents of roasted garlic and olive oil, sun-dried tomatoes and basil…
“...Trattoria Baccanale?”
“Bingo.” He raised his eyebrows, impressed.
“We’re eating here?”
“The restaurant is closed for dinner today.” He keyed in through the backdoor. “We have the whole place to ourselves.”
Before I could fully wrap my head around the current situation, he had already made his way into the kitchen. He disappeared for a few minutes into the back room, and when he came back out, he was in his chef attire. After washing his hands, he opened up the large refrigerator and took out some mushrooms, butter, cheese, and a large pot of broth.
“I hope you don’t mind me not wearing a hat,” Ban-chan pointed to his head. “How does mushroom risotto sound?”
“...That sounds great, but h-hang on,” I stopped him. “You’re sure we can be in here? Aren’t I an imposition?”
The quick rhythm of a knife on a cutting board soon filled the space. “You’re doing it again,” he said without looking up from his task. “Stop worrying about other people. I brought you here. This is my restaurant; who’s going to tell us to leave?”
I let his words sink in. Perhaps my mind was playing tricks on me. To some unknown extent, in my head, he was still the Ban-chan I knew in middle school. And yet, the man who was standing in front of me had grown significantly taller, broader, wiser, and more masculine. He busied his hands at the cutting board as I stared. Did he always have such long eyelashes? Was he this muscular back in middle school? Had he always understood this side of me?
“Is it that shocking to see a man cooking?” He laughed as he finally looked up to address me.
Shoot, was I staring this whole time? “S-Sorry. I guess it’s not too sh… actually…”
My voice trailed off as I became lost in thought. Ryota used the kitchen every now and then, but I could hardly call that “cooking.” The most endearing part about Sho-san was the fact that he couldn’t cook, despite being pretty much impeccable in every other aspect of his life. I dwelled on those memories for a bit and felt a stinging in my heart. There was no point in lingering and longing for the past, and yet, Sho-san refused to vacate my mind.
“Here.”
Ban-chan’s voice snapped me out of my trip down memory lane. I didn’t even notice he had stopped what he was doing to grab me a stool to sit on. After thanking him and perching on the edge of it, I began to wonder if he had always been this considerate. Am I just overly sensitive to this sort of thing now because I’m wounded inside, or had I never given him enough credit?
“I’m used to people staring at me while I cook.” He gave me a quick glance before drizzling some olive oil into a pan. With his back to me, he turned on the stove and the smell of garlic and roasted tomatoes filled the kitchen.
“Sorry, it’s so rude to stare. I guess it is kind of refreshing to see.”
“What, a guy cooking?” he said over his shoulder.
“Yeah.”
He must be focused on cooking, I thought. There was no reply but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it was kind of nice. Periodically, I’d hear some stirring, chopping, and sizzling. It played like white noise, a calming backdrop for what my eyes were capturing. When he finished, he picked up three dishes all in one go.
“Dinner is served,” he bowed playfully. “Let’s go sit at one of the tables.”
I grinned and followed him out into the restaurant. What a strange sight to see the place empty. It truly did feel like we had reserved this whole place for ourselves.
“Anything to drink?” Ban-chan pulled out a chair and ushered me to sit. The way his movements flowed flawlessly, I knew he did this for a living.
I had to think about it. It was Sho-san’s curse. Whenever I was asked to order a drink, my lips would thirst for his Sidecar. My body would yearn for that magic. It never even occurred to me to order alcohol without him anymore. In the end, I’d resort to the same thing every time.
“I’ll just take a glass of water, thanks.”
Once the table was set, I looked at the pretty dishes in front of me and instantly smiled. Ban-chan grinned seeing my reaction and raised his glass of water.
“To… old friends?” he tilted his head, seeking approval.
“To old friends,” I agreed.
After a sip of water, I picked up a bruschetta and took a bite.
“Wow, Ban-chan. This is so good!” I squealed.
“Aren’t you going to give me a report on how the balsamic vinegar pairs well with the sourness of the tomatoes?” he teased.
I narrowed my eyes playfully and took his jab in stride. “Actually, I was going to comment on how amazing the chef is who made it, but forget it.”
Ban-chan laughed and snapped his fingers. “Darn! Well, try the risotto. Maybe I can earn a compliment then.”
After another sip of water to cleanse my palate, I picked up the spoon and brought a bite to my mouth. The aroma of the mushrooms so complex, the scent of white wine escaping my nostrils, the consistency of the Arborio rice on my tongue, fragrant parmesan cheese lingering as an aftertaste. I had to close my eyes as it bewitched my senses. For some reason, it made me want to cry.
“Was it not to your liking?” he inquired, nervous look on his face.
“Ban-chan…” A single tear rolled down my left cheek. How did he know this is exactly what I needed right now? The tension controlling me seemed to loosen its grip.
“Oh, geez…” He picked up his napkin and handed it over to me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I put the spoon down so I could take his napkin and wipe my wet cheek. “Thank you, Ban-chan.”
His concerned expression slowly turned into a gentle gaze. “...You’re welcome.”
Needless to say, I finished everything on my plate. I savored each bite and took my time enjoying the meal. I loved everything I had last time I was here, but this time was different. It was the first time I felt like a dish spoke to me. It knew me before I could recognize what I needed. The revelation was unnerving, yet the flavors were so comforting.
“Did you save room for dessert?”
“There’s dessert?!” I chuckled.
“Actually, it’s a new dish I’ve been working on. It’s not on the menu yet because I don’t think it’s quite ready. I’d love your opinion on it.” Ban-chan’s eyes invited playfully.
“Oh, I don’t think I’m the right person for the job,” I respectfully declined. “I have no professional experience in your field.”
He scratched his nose and chuckled. “Did it ever occur to you that that’s the very reason I’m asking you? I don’t need another ‘professional’ opinion that lacks originality. I need a refreshing take not driven by ulterior motives, and preferably by someone I trust.”
Someone I trust. I recalled how empowering it was to hear that from my own clients. Recent events had me second-guessing myself, but if Ban-chan is willing to put his trust in my tastes, then I wanted to do my best to help. That’s what trusting people does: it gives them strength. Had I been an encouragement for Sho-san when we were together? Did I empower him through my trusting him? Though my intentions believed so, it was clearly not enough to keep him.
While I was lost in thought, Ban-chan had already taken to preparing the dessert. It seemed the bulk of the recipe had already been premade, since he returned from the kitchen in a few minutes’ time. On a simple, white plate was what looked like tiramisu, only slightly firmer.
“To keep the slate as clean as possible, I’m not going to tell you what it is. Try it and give me your unbiased, first impression.”
Ban-chan sat back down in his seat and waited patiently. With the dessert spoon, I scooped up a corner of it and took a bite. A good tiramisu has two, different textures: a light, spongy layer soaked in rum and coffee, and another layer of creamy mascarpone. What looked initially like tiramisu turned out to be something quite different. There was a doughy denseness that surprised me. After finishing the first bite, I took another and closed my eyes so I could block out any visual input.
“I’m having a hard time describing this dish,” I said, eyes still closed.
“That’s already a sign it needs improvement,” Ban-chan laughed.
I snapped my eyes open. “No, no! I didn’t mean that in a bad way!”
“But, whenever you taste anything truly delicious, you start dissecting the recipe right away,” he observed.
He was right. Then, what about this dish did I not fully appreciate? I took another bite and noticed that the doughy texture took away from the creamy whipped later.
“This dense, doughy part… it seems out of place because the whipped layer is so light and airy.” I took a sip of water. “I think a crunchier… maybe a fried layer… might work better.”
The corners of his lips curled and his eyes sparkled. “Ah. More of a sfinci rather than a zeppole…” he mumbled to himself.
“Hm?”
He shook his head. “I think I get what you’re saying. That’s worth a try.”
“...Did I make any sense?” I felt as though I were merely giving him a report on texture, not necessarily advice on how to improve the dessert.
“I knew I could trust you,” he grinned. He then put his forearms on the table and leaned across the table to look me right in the eyes. “Are you free next Friday?”
The question came out of nowhere and stunned me. What does that have anything to do with this dessert? My heart began to race and I wasn’t sure why.
“If you have time, I’d like you to swing by my restaurant. Dessert will be on the house,” he invited, his big, brown eyes glimmering like a child’s.
I still wasn’t sure how to respond. “U-Uh...m…”
Suddenly, his eyes widened as if he realized something. “I didn’t mean that in a romantic way,” he clarified. “I just want you to be the first to try out our new dessert. You can bring your friends along, if you’d like.”
Oh, I get it now. Although relieved to have him define the reason for his invitation, my heart continued to pound inside my chest and I was afraid to admit why. What were you expecting, Kokoro?
“...Sure.”
He made a peace sign with his right hand and smiled widely. For a moment, I saw the old Ban-chan I knew in middle school. Although tonight’s chance encounter was far from ideal, I sincerely appreciated that he purposefully did not ask any prying questions. Instead, he provided a safe place for me to release my emotions, invited me to dine with him because he knew deep down that I would be lonely otherwise, and gave my voice value when I felt worthless. Before the night was over, I was smiling again. My heart was still hurting, but I no longer felt lost.
“Thank you, Ban-chan,” I verbalized my gratitude. “What would I have done if we didn’t run into each other tonight?”
“Good to see you’re smiling again. Could I take you home? It’s getting dark out.”
I shook my head quickly. “Oh, no, that’s okay. You’ve helped me plenty today. I’ll take the train home.”
“You don’t learn, do you, Nijishima?” He let out a chuckle through his nose. “Let a guy be nice, will ya?”
My mind began spiraling. Somewhere deep in my memory, I thought I could hear Sho-san’s faint voice say, “What’s wrong with letting someone take care of you, Miss Kokoro?” I felt my heart tightening. Everything reminded me of him. Though I had learned to live haunted by these memories, I didn’t think another man I knew could draw it out of me. No one ever told me that heartbreak could be literal.
“I’ll compromise; let me call for a taxi, all right?”
It seemed as though Ban-chan could tell I was fighting an invisible demon within. He didn’t press any further and offered me a way out while still giving himself some control of the situation. Although some guilt remained, I decided on listening to both the man in front of me and the man inside my head.
.
.
.
“This is the restaurant? He must be rich!” Reiko’s eyes sparkled excitedly.
“He’s our age? Damn.” Juri sighed, astonished. “Makes me feel like an underachiever.”
Next Friday arrived alarmingly fast. As requested, I returned to Trattoria Baccanale with my two, best friends. Though there was no dress code, we were stopping by for dinner so all of us had dressed for the occasion. I had told the girls it’d be a night of pampering ourselves. While they both gave their first impressions of the restaurant, an elegant woman, perhaps in her mid-40s, greeted us at the door.
“Good evening. Do you have a reservation?”
“Uh, yes. Under Nijishima,” I replied. While I waited for my taxi, Ban-chan told me that night to give my name to the receptionist once I arrived. He said he’d take care of the rest.
The woman’s face lit up as if a lightbulb had turned on in her head. “Ah, Nijishima-sama. It’s our pleasure to see you here. Right this way.”
The familiar ambience greeted me and the delectable scents made my nose tingle. My friends followed closely behind, looking around to take it all in. Our table was at a corner of the restaurant with a lovely view of the garden outside. Once we had all taken a seat--Juri and Reiko side by side and me on the other side of the table-- I felt like I was in some interrogation room.
“What is this place, Kokoro?” Juri began.
“And who do you have to know to frequent a fancy place like this?!” Reiko added.
“Reiko. Kokoro doesn’t just frequent this place. She gets invited by the owner,” Juri corrected.
“You guys…!” I put my hands up for them to stop. “I’m just returning a favor.”
Juri pointed her finger at me, then brought it to her chin. “About that…”
“...What about it?” I asked.
“Ban-san, was it?” she continued.
I nodded.
“Just who is this man?” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
Mine widened in return. “W-What?! Oh, no, no… it’s definitely not what you think it is.”
Reiko chimed in, “Okay, but he spotted you as you left the cafe, let you cry to your heart’s content…”
“In his own car, no less,” Juri interjected.
“Right, in his own car. And then, he brought you to this restaurant outside business hours and made you dinner?” Reiko rolled her eyes, astounded that I seemed oblivious to the elephant in the room.
“Exactly,” Juri agreed.
“We’re old friends,” I clarified. “Wouldn’t you help a comrade in need, too?”
They looked at each other and tilted their heads in disagreement.
“Not to this extent,” said Reiko.
“I’d only do this for the two of you,” Juri admitted.
As I pondered on their speculations, a slender man came to serve us water and took our drink order. Juri was the only one who ordered wine. Reiko pointed to her belly and picked up her water, and I, of course, had no choice.
“Are you still not up for drinking anything else?” Reiko asked, concerned.
I smiled back to assure her. “It’s more out of habit now.”
As if our conversation reminded her, Juri opened her mouth hesitantly. “Hey, Kokoro. About that time at the cafe…”
“I’m so sorry,” Reiko put her hands together in front of her. “I yelled at Toma after we left the cafe. I can’t believe he brought Sho-san.”
The memories came flooding back. Those cold, passionless eyes. The indifference in his voice. I didn’t want to believe he was the same man. If our hypothesis were true and he was indeed framed for money, couldn’t he find ways to prove all this wrong and turn it against his enemies? Was it enough of a reason to push me out of his life completely? I thought it over and over since, but no answer persuaded me. Instead, I was left with a sense of defeat, that he indeed is the father of that boy, and that Riina is the mother.
“After you left, Sho-san stayed for a few minutes,” Juri filled the silence. “He didn’t say much, though. Didn’t even sit down.”
Reiko nodded. “But, he did tell Toma that he shouldn’t make a decision he will regret. ‘What is best for the baby? What is best for Reiko-san? If the first question you asked yourself was, ‘What is best for me?’ you will regret your decision,’ he said.”
“As much as I wanted to punch him in the face for hurting you, I couldn’t,” Juri sighed in frustration. “I can’t hate him. It annoys me to admit it, but I can’t.”
I bit the inside of my cheeks to keep my emotions intact. I know that feeling all too well. No matter how much I wanted to hate the man, forget him and move on, I couldn’t. He was never a two-sides-to-a-coin kind of guy. He was like a kaleidoscope, beautiful and magnetic, yet changing and unpredictable. Though he stands tall, I know the demons within keep him from moving forward. It made him look fragile in my eyes and I couldn’t fathom crushing such a delicate soul. I didn’t want to abandon him.
“Toma called me a few days after our meeting. He said he thought about it some more and wants to be in the child’s life in a significant way.” Reiko stated.
“Meaning…?” Juri raised her eyebrows.
“He wants to be a father. And a husband.”
I sighed, relieved to hear the news. “That’s wonderful, Reiko. I’m so happy for you.”
“He better have changed his mind. We wouldn’t have forgiven him otherwise,” Juri crossed her arms.
Reiko looked into my eyes. “You know why he had a change of heart?”
“Hm?”
“He said Sho-san called him so they could meet in private. Sho-san could tell Toma was struggling to make a decision. He convinced Toma to do the right thing and stay.”
Juri took a sip of the wine that had been delivered to our table and pouted her lips. “See, this is why I can’t hate the guy.”
The right thing…? The #1 host of Akatsuki would never be caught dead mistreating a woman. If he told Toma to stay because of a child, then he would hold himself to the same standard. Was it inevitable that our relationship would end? Would things have been different if there was no child? What kind of fate would have awaited us if I had met him first?
“Kokoro…” It took Juri’s concerned voice to realize I had started crying.
“S-Sorry,” I forced a smile.
“I know it’s not the happy ending we had all hoped for for you, but now I’m certain he made the decision in your best interest. He truly loves you,” Reiko spoke with quiet conviction.
More tears made their way down my cheeks. I know. In my heart, I know that fully because I still trust him. Even in the sorrow he helped create, it seemed he was trying to comfort me. I didn’t know whether to feel anger or gratitude.
“Excuse me.” The slender man returned with three antipasto dishes. “The chef has requested that I get you started with your course meal.”
Only then did I realize that we had never received a menu. I quickly gathered myself and cleared my throat. “...I’m sorry?”
“Please let me know in advance if any of you have food allergies or sensitivities.” He placed the antipasto in front of each of us. “This is a seasonal root vegetable bagna càuda.”
I still wasn’t fully understanding the situation, but the pungent scent of garlic and anchovies filled the space and ignited our appetite. After looking across the table at two more confused faces, I eyed the slender man and raised my eyebrows for an explanation.
“Tonight’s dinner is on the house.” He bowed politely and took his leave.
.
.
.
“My god, Kokoro. You were keeping this place a secret from us this whole time?! This has got to be the best Italian food I’ve ever had!” Reiko exclaimed.
“I wouldn’t mind if we made this restaurant our regular hangout,” Juri chimed in.
Indeed, every course was delectable, full of flavor and yet, complementing the inherent aromas of each ingredient. Though I didn’t do any of the cooking, it made me happy to hear my friends rave about the food. I knew Ban-chan had the skills of an amazing chef, but it also takes a special talent to make people smile with your cooking. I almost wished he could see their joyful expressions because they were the fruits of his labor.
“I apologize for the interruption. I came by to see if you enjoyed your meal.”
“Ban-chan…!” I shouted a little too loudly. I brought my napkin to my mouth in embarrassment.
“Good evening. I’m Ban, owner and chef.”
He bowed toward Juri and Reiko, who were now stunned silent as they looked up at the man greeting them. Just under his chef’s hat rested defined eyebrows, gentle eyes that formed a crescent shape when he smiled, broad shoulders fitting well underneath a white, knot button jacket, clean, slender fingers crossed in front of his torso. He possessed a stately quality that seemed to enchant all those who interacted with him.
“Was the meal to your liking?” He glanced over at me and smiled.
“...I’m sorry. You’re ‘Ban-chan’? Kokoro’s friend from middle school ‘Ban-chan’?” Reiko asked, wide-eyed.
“I am,” he chuckled. “Had Nijishima given you a different impression?”
Reiko’s jaw dropped to the ground. “S-She didn’t tell us you were so…”
Ban-chan’s eyebrows rose playfully. “So…?”
“U-Uh…!” I cleared my throat. “Ban-chan. That’s Reiko, and Juri. They’re my best friends.”
“Reiko-sama. Juri-sama. It’s my pleasure to serve you,” he bowed again.
“Everything was super delicious. I especially enjoyed the Ragù Napoletano. I could tell the meat was browned well and that it took hours and hours of cooking to get all those deep flavors. The onions and parsley pulled out all sorts of different aromas, too. You just keep upping your game,” I complimented.
“I can count on you to notice the details,” he beamed. “Are we ready for dessert?”
His eyes sparkled like a child’s. There was a sort of innocence about him that I had first attributed to my knowing him from earlier on in our lives. Now, I knew it was just who he was, excited about life and delighting others with his talents. It was a trait I had long left behind somewhere in the past, and it surprised me how someone could grow up in such a broken world and still keep that part of themselves intact. He embodied the things I no longer was, but wished I could be. I nodded, smiling back.
“Oh, my god, Kokoro…” Reiko seemed like she was finally breathing again after Ban-chan left the table. “He’s gorgeous!”
Juri, who hadn’t said anything since his arrival, finally opened her mouth. “You two were in the same class?”
I nodded and stated matter-of-factly, “We sat next to each other.”
Reiko slapped her forehead with her hand like I had said something offensive. “Seriously, Kokoro? I bet the other girls killed for that seat!”
I hadn’t really thought about that before. He hung out with the popular crowd, the guys who used to tell me that “comfortable doesn’t attract us.” I suppose that meant he was also one of the popular ones. It never occurred to me to investigate his love life, though the rumor was that he never dated anyone in middle school.
“We’re not trying to put ideas in your head,” Juri assured, then chose her next words carefully. “But, I think it’s okay to let yourself trust someone else.”
I digested her words and understood what she was trying to say. Both of them had seen me drag my broken heart around for years when things fell through with Ryota, and I knew that they were simply looking out for me. In no way was I ready for anything new. In fact, it terrified me even thinking that someone could replace Sho-san. Still, I knew their hearts were in the right place.
“Here you are: a Sfinci Tiramisu.”
Ban-chan returned to our table with three dishes. I remembered what the dessert looked like that one night, so I was slightly shocked to see that not much had changed visually. As the name suggested, it looked like tiramisu on a white plate. It was cut in a triangular shape and adorned with cocoa powder and chocolate shavings. Upon first glance, I couldn’t really tell what had changed.
“A what tiramisu?” Juri asked.
“Sfinci. Think funnel cake, but fluffier on the inside and crunchier on the outside,” Ban-chan explained.
“That sounds delicious!” Reiko replied delightfully.
I took the dessert spoon and scooped up a corner of the tiramisu. The bite took my taste buds for a ride. Airy, mascarpone complementing the fluffiness of the fried dough, the hint of cinnamon working well with the rum. I would have thought the fried batter would make the dish too oily, but I was pleasantly surprised at how light it was. Though it looked like what I had tried last week, the dish had transformed into something absolutely divine.
“What do you think?” Ban-chan asked eagerly.
“...Wow.”
He chuckled and scratched his temple. “Still not to your liking? I was expecting an essay.”
I looked straight up at him with earnest eyes. “You’ve left me speechless. It’s that divine.”
“Well, I can’t take all the credit.” He grinned from ear to ear like a kid receiving praise. “Your input really transformed the dessert.”
Juri stared at me mid-bite. I glanced back with inquiring eyes. She took a sip of water and put her spoon down.
“Wait… you helped make this?” She asked, amazed.
I shook my head. “No way! Ban-chan did the hard part. I just… ate it,” I chuckled.
“You know how she gets when she eats,” Ban-chan teased. “I used her talents to my advantage.”
“Oh, my god. So, she’s been critiquing food since middle school?” Reiko giggled.
Ban-chan nodded as he looked over at me. “I knew I could count on her insight. It won’t appear on the menu until tomorrow. I wanted Nijishima to be the first to try her own creation.”
My cheeks felt warm from all the teasing I had just received. And yet, I noticed something strange: I wasn’t mortified or uncomfortable in my own skin. In fact, there was a part of me that had embraced this quirk. I traced back my memory to figure out when I had changed the way I see myself and instantly regretted it. All roads lead back to you, Sho-san. There was no denying how much his encouraging ways had truly transformed me. Even though I could no longer share this moment with him, I thanked him quietly for helping me love myself, just as I am.
.
.
.
“I’m stuffed!” Reiko huffed. “Thank you for such a wonderful meal.”
“I feel incredibly guilty eating so much without paying a penny,” Juri added apologetically.
Ban-chan smiled and bowed. “It was my pleasure. Please come back soon.”
“We sure will,” Juri answered.
“Let’s grab a taxi. I don’t feel like taking the train,” Reiko moaned.
As Juri opened the doors to the restaurant, Ban-chan stopped me. “Nijishima, could I borrow you for a second?”
Before I could respond, Reiko answered for me. “We’ll wait for you outside!” The doors closed behind them.
“Thanks again for coming,” Ban-chan grinned.
“Are you kidding me? I should be the one thanking you. You didn’t tell me you’d be treating us!”
“You wouldn’t have come if I divulged that,” he said matter-of-factly. “Am I right?”
He was. I pouted my lips in playful protest.
After a quick chuckle, he cleared his throat. “Are you doing anything next Saturday?”
“Well, I work the early shift so I should be free by evening. Why? Is it for me to try another dish, because I should start charging you for that,” I joked.
“Actually, I was hoping I could take you out on a date.”
Excuse me...?
I thought I had misheard him at first, but his gaze was sincere and his expression, earnest. My mind began spinning. Was this really happening? Why now, after Juri and Reiko had inadvertently planted that little seed in my head? Is he really the same Ban-chan I knew in middle school? And, most puzzling of all, why did he assume I was available for a date? I never explicitly told him Sho-san and I had parted ways, though I suppose my emotional breakdown could have given me away. Still, I was full of questions to which I knew I didn’t know the answers. He waited patiently for me to respond, his eyes confidently poised in a determined gaze.
Rating: R for whole series, PG for Ch.19
Genre: Romance, Drama
Word count: 6,588
Plot: A 33-year-old singleton, Nijishima Kokoro, finds herself at a host club where she meets the club's most popular host, Sakurai Sho. The encounter propels Kokoro to explore a different kind of love as Sho helps Kokoro discover herself.
NOTE: This story reads like a shoujo manga--it is written in a fictitious first-person narrative where the reader is the protagonist. Please proceed with caution if you are uncomfortable with JE members having relationships with fictitious female characters (even if that female is you!).
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18
Chapter Nineteen: Two Invitations and A Dessert
“Nijishima?”
The owner of the voice approached me and peered in to confirm and remove all doubt.
“Ah! I knew it was y… are you okay?”
Defined eyebrows, eyelashes for miles, and three moles on and near his lips. He was wearing a cap but I knew exactly who had stopped me.
“Ban-chan…” My voice trailed off as more tears rolled down my face, relieved at seeing someone I knew.
His concerned expression was a breath of fresh air, a stark contrast from what I had seen earlier on another man I thought I knew. Ban-chan hesitated for a moment before grabbing my forearm and pulling me to the edge of the sidewalk. He stood in front of me so that his body blocked the view from curious pedestrians. I appreciated how considerate he was, especially now when I felt so weak and lost.
Ban-chan brought his right hand behind his neck and massaged it uncomfortably. I cast my gaze downward toward the ground but it only worked in favor of gravity as tears streamed down my face at record speed. It was all I could do to keep myself together.
“Let’s go.” My former classmate grabbed my arm again and led the way.
I wasn’t sure where we were headed…not that I would have been able to see where we were going, anyway, what with my vision blurred from all the crying. My legs felt weak, so I appreciated that someone was helping me get away from the very person my heart yearned to see. The hand that held my arm wasn’t forceful but it was clear he wasn’t going to let go. I let him lead the way. Because let’s be honest: where else would I go?
“Get in.”
After wiping my tears away with my fingers, I looked up to find a black sports car with the passenger door opened. His eyes ushered me to take a seat. I accepted his invitation without hesitation.
Once he got into the driver’s seat, he turned on the ignition to cool the muggy air. Perhaps he was purposefully not looking my way to give me space to gather myself. He took off his cap and combed through his long, black bangs. It fell in an untidy manner, lacking volume and falling to the side to cover his temple. Ban-chan put his right elbow on the window and rested his chin on his hand, his eyes looking out the window.
“You can cry all you want now without having to worry about what others might think.”
Is that what he was doing? Giving me a safe space to break into pieces? I bit my lips to try and fight the tears, but the battle was lost. My shoulders twitched upward with each inhale as I cried uncontrollably, tears flowing in copious amounts. I hugged my purse tightly, hoping it would somehow keep my heart from bursting. In the background, I could faintly hear classical music and Ban-chan’s slow, regular breathing. I appreciated that he asked me no questions; he simply offered me a safe space to release the pain.
I wasn’t sure how much time had past when I finally calmed down. The back of my forehead throbbed and my bloodshot eyes felt raw as I covered them with my hands. I took a deep breath and turned to face Ban-chan. He was still in the same position, chin on his hand and looking out into the city. When we first arrived at the car, I didn’t pay any attention to where he was parked. Only now could I make out a neon sign at the entrance to this parking lot displaying hourly rates.
“Oh, my gosh… how long was I crying?” I felt bad for taking up his time.
He didn’t look my way but answered my question. “Mm… 30-40 minutes?”
“I’m so sorry…! Here, let me pay for parking. I’ve kept you long enough.” I rummaged through my purse and pulled out my wallet.
“Nijishima.” He finally turned around to look at me. “Is that seriously the first thing you’re going to say to me?”
“...Hm? O-Oh, uh, thank you. This is the least I can do.” I pulled out some bills and extended my arm toward him.
He rubbed his neck again as a concerned smile crossed his face. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
I tilted my head, confused.
“You’re so observant that you worry about others all the time. Why don’t you do the same for yourself once in a while?” Ban-chan pursed his lips and scolded.
A weak sigh left me. The same point can be made about you, too, Ban-chan. How else would you know me so well, despite not having seen nor spoken to me in decades? I smiled faintly in agreement. “You’re right.”
He smiled back, his long eyelashes fluttering as he blinked. “Are you hungry?”
“...Huh?”
“Because I’m starving.” He put the car in drive.
“W-Wait, I didn’t answer your question,” I stammered.
“How about, in exchange for my time, you give me yours?” He raised his eyebrows playfully.
Before I could answer, we were at the payment booth. He took out his wallet, rolled down the window, and placed a few bills in the machine. The bar opened to let us through, and we were on the road soon after. As I reluctantly put my money away, I wondered where he was taking me. His long, slender fingers gripped the wheel as they tapped along to the tempo of the music, the freckle on his left middle finger playing hide-and-seek.
“The last time we sat this close to each other was in middle school,” he chuckled. “Remember when you forgot your eraser for that big test?”
The fond memories came flooding back. “Yeah, you cut yours in half for me,” I smiled. “Thanks to you, I got a 92.”
He scratched the top of his nose and laughed. “Or that one time in science class when you were paired with Yamane?”
-
“All right, today you’ll be learning about corrosion and how different pH levels affect rates of said corrosion. I’ve divided you all up into twos, so find your partner and sit accordingly.”
The one thing I disliked more than science class itself was the fact that our teacher wouldn’t let us pick our own partners for lab. I dragged my feet to the paper posted on the chalkboard to see who I was paired with this time.
“Looks like we’re together,” Yamane-kun approached me before I could even glance at the list.
He was one of the popular guys in class. Tall, athletic build and in the top 3 academically, it didn’t surprise me that girls fawned over him. Being “one of the boys,” though, I never really looked at guys in that way. Maybe it was a defense mechanism: if I didn’t let myself have feelings for any of them, then it wouldn’t hurt too badly when I found out they didn’t see me in that light, either. As jealous glances darted in my direction, I sat down at the lab table dreading having to interact with him.
“Consider yourself lucky,” he hummed as he took his seat. “Out of all the girls in class, you get to spend the whole hour with me.”
Ugh. I threw up a little in my mouth.
“Can we just focus on finishing this experiment?” I mumbled, annoyed.
“Don’t be so cold, Nijishima. That’s why guys misunderstand you; you come off as this cold-hearted person and don’t give them a chance to really get to know you.”
My eyes couldn’t roll back into my head any farther. For a smart guy, he was pretty stupid when it came to taking a hint. No, shit, Sherlock. Why do you think I’m being cold to you now? I ignored him and began the experiment. But, he was persistent.
“How about you let me get to know you better?” He stood behind me and placed his hands on the table at either side of my body. His chest was touching my back and his face was right next to mine. I could hear gasps and whispering from classmates. Great. How do I explain this situation?
“Nijishima.”
Another voice called my name. When I turned to see who it was, I was surprised to find that he was standing right next to Yamane-kun.
“My partner’s sick and I can’t do the experiment alone. The teacher told me to pick a group to join. Do you mind?”
Ban-chan spoke only to me, completely ignoring Yamane-kun. Still, the body touching my back strangely peeled away as more whispering reached our ears. It was a relief seeing a friendly face. I secretly and selfishly thanked his partner for being sick.
“No… I don’t mind at all. Could you grab those beakers and label them for me?”
He grinned as he grabbed a roll of tape and a sharpie. “On it.”
--
“You really saved my butt that time,” I replied.
“Most girls in class would have glared at me for interrupting such an opportune moment,” Ban-chan reminded.
“As you’re well aware, I’m not ‘most girls,’” I chuckled.
He tapped his thumb on the wheel a few times. “You really aren’t.”
A dry laugh escaped my lips. “I’m ‘one of the boys,’ remember?”
He puckered his lips, looking slightly irritated. “That’s not what I said.”
“Hm?”
“Never mind,” he sighed. “We’re here.”
I looked out the window. It seemed as though we had parked at a private lot. I opened the door to figure out where this was, but my nose picked up on the clue first. Lingering scents of roasted garlic and olive oil, sun-dried tomatoes and basil…
“...Trattoria Baccanale?”
“Bingo.” He raised his eyebrows, impressed.
“We’re eating here?”
“The restaurant is closed for dinner today.” He keyed in through the backdoor. “We have the whole place to ourselves.”
Before I could fully wrap my head around the current situation, he had already made his way into the kitchen. He disappeared for a few minutes into the back room, and when he came back out, he was in his chef attire. After washing his hands, he opened up the large refrigerator and took out some mushrooms, butter, cheese, and a large pot of broth.
“I hope you don’t mind me not wearing a hat,” Ban-chan pointed to his head. “How does mushroom risotto sound?”
“...That sounds great, but h-hang on,” I stopped him. “You’re sure we can be in here? Aren’t I an imposition?”
The quick rhythm of a knife on a cutting board soon filled the space. “You’re doing it again,” he said without looking up from his task. “Stop worrying about other people. I brought you here. This is my restaurant; who’s going to tell us to leave?”
I let his words sink in. Perhaps my mind was playing tricks on me. To some unknown extent, in my head, he was still the Ban-chan I knew in middle school. And yet, the man who was standing in front of me had grown significantly taller, broader, wiser, and more masculine. He busied his hands at the cutting board as I stared. Did he always have such long eyelashes? Was he this muscular back in middle school? Had he always understood this side of me?
“Is it that shocking to see a man cooking?” He laughed as he finally looked up to address me.
Shoot, was I staring this whole time? “S-Sorry. I guess it’s not too sh… actually…”
My voice trailed off as I became lost in thought. Ryota used the kitchen every now and then, but I could hardly call that “cooking.” The most endearing part about Sho-san was the fact that he couldn’t cook, despite being pretty much impeccable in every other aspect of his life. I dwelled on those memories for a bit and felt a stinging in my heart. There was no point in lingering and longing for the past, and yet, Sho-san refused to vacate my mind.
“Here.”
Ban-chan’s voice snapped me out of my trip down memory lane. I didn’t even notice he had stopped what he was doing to grab me a stool to sit on. After thanking him and perching on the edge of it, I began to wonder if he had always been this considerate. Am I just overly sensitive to this sort of thing now because I’m wounded inside, or had I never given him enough credit?
“I’m used to people staring at me while I cook.” He gave me a quick glance before drizzling some olive oil into a pan. With his back to me, he turned on the stove and the smell of garlic and roasted tomatoes filled the kitchen.
“Sorry, it’s so rude to stare. I guess it is kind of refreshing to see.”
“What, a guy cooking?” he said over his shoulder.
“Yeah.”
He must be focused on cooking, I thought. There was no reply but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it was kind of nice. Periodically, I’d hear some stirring, chopping, and sizzling. It played like white noise, a calming backdrop for what my eyes were capturing. When he finished, he picked up three dishes all in one go.
“Dinner is served,” he bowed playfully. “Let’s go sit at one of the tables.”
I grinned and followed him out into the restaurant. What a strange sight to see the place empty. It truly did feel like we had reserved this whole place for ourselves.
“Anything to drink?” Ban-chan pulled out a chair and ushered me to sit. The way his movements flowed flawlessly, I knew he did this for a living.
I had to think about it. It was Sho-san’s curse. Whenever I was asked to order a drink, my lips would thirst for his Sidecar. My body would yearn for that magic. It never even occurred to me to order alcohol without him anymore. In the end, I’d resort to the same thing every time.
“I’ll just take a glass of water, thanks.”
Once the table was set, I looked at the pretty dishes in front of me and instantly smiled. Ban-chan grinned seeing my reaction and raised his glass of water.
“To… old friends?” he tilted his head, seeking approval.
“To old friends,” I agreed.
After a sip of water, I picked up a bruschetta and took a bite.
“Wow, Ban-chan. This is so good!” I squealed.
“Aren’t you going to give me a report on how the balsamic vinegar pairs well with the sourness of the tomatoes?” he teased.
I narrowed my eyes playfully and took his jab in stride. “Actually, I was going to comment on how amazing the chef is who made it, but forget it.”
Ban-chan laughed and snapped his fingers. “Darn! Well, try the risotto. Maybe I can earn a compliment then.”
After another sip of water to cleanse my palate, I picked up the spoon and brought a bite to my mouth. The aroma of the mushrooms so complex, the scent of white wine escaping my nostrils, the consistency of the Arborio rice on my tongue, fragrant parmesan cheese lingering as an aftertaste. I had to close my eyes as it bewitched my senses. For some reason, it made me want to cry.
“Was it not to your liking?” he inquired, nervous look on his face.
“Ban-chan…” A single tear rolled down my left cheek. How did he know this is exactly what I needed right now? The tension controlling me seemed to loosen its grip.
“Oh, geez…” He picked up his napkin and handed it over to me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I put the spoon down so I could take his napkin and wipe my wet cheek. “Thank you, Ban-chan.”
His concerned expression slowly turned into a gentle gaze. “...You’re welcome.”
Needless to say, I finished everything on my plate. I savored each bite and took my time enjoying the meal. I loved everything I had last time I was here, but this time was different. It was the first time I felt like a dish spoke to me. It knew me before I could recognize what I needed. The revelation was unnerving, yet the flavors were so comforting.
“Did you save room for dessert?”
“There’s dessert?!” I chuckled.
“Actually, it’s a new dish I’ve been working on. It’s not on the menu yet because I don’t think it’s quite ready. I’d love your opinion on it.” Ban-chan’s eyes invited playfully.
“Oh, I don’t think I’m the right person for the job,” I respectfully declined. “I have no professional experience in your field.”
He scratched his nose and chuckled. “Did it ever occur to you that that’s the very reason I’m asking you? I don’t need another ‘professional’ opinion that lacks originality. I need a refreshing take not driven by ulterior motives, and preferably by someone I trust.”
Someone I trust. I recalled how empowering it was to hear that from my own clients. Recent events had me second-guessing myself, but if Ban-chan is willing to put his trust in my tastes, then I wanted to do my best to help. That’s what trusting people does: it gives them strength. Had I been an encouragement for Sho-san when we were together? Did I empower him through my trusting him? Though my intentions believed so, it was clearly not enough to keep him.
While I was lost in thought, Ban-chan had already taken to preparing the dessert. It seemed the bulk of the recipe had already been premade, since he returned from the kitchen in a few minutes’ time. On a simple, white plate was what looked like tiramisu, only slightly firmer.
“To keep the slate as clean as possible, I’m not going to tell you what it is. Try it and give me your unbiased, first impression.”
Ban-chan sat back down in his seat and waited patiently. With the dessert spoon, I scooped up a corner of it and took a bite. A good tiramisu has two, different textures: a light, spongy layer soaked in rum and coffee, and another layer of creamy mascarpone. What looked initially like tiramisu turned out to be something quite different. There was a doughy denseness that surprised me. After finishing the first bite, I took another and closed my eyes so I could block out any visual input.
“I’m having a hard time describing this dish,” I said, eyes still closed.
“That’s already a sign it needs improvement,” Ban-chan laughed.
I snapped my eyes open. “No, no! I didn’t mean that in a bad way!”
“But, whenever you taste anything truly delicious, you start dissecting the recipe right away,” he observed.
He was right. Then, what about this dish did I not fully appreciate? I took another bite and noticed that the doughy texture took away from the creamy whipped later.
“This dense, doughy part… it seems out of place because the whipped layer is so light and airy.” I took a sip of water. “I think a crunchier… maybe a fried layer… might work better.”
The corners of his lips curled and his eyes sparkled. “Ah. More of a sfinci rather than a zeppole…” he mumbled to himself.
“Hm?”
He shook his head. “I think I get what you’re saying. That’s worth a try.”
“...Did I make any sense?” I felt as though I were merely giving him a report on texture, not necessarily advice on how to improve the dessert.
“I knew I could trust you,” he grinned. He then put his forearms on the table and leaned across the table to look me right in the eyes. “Are you free next Friday?”
The question came out of nowhere and stunned me. What does that have anything to do with this dessert? My heart began to race and I wasn’t sure why.
“If you have time, I’d like you to swing by my restaurant. Dessert will be on the house,” he invited, his big, brown eyes glimmering like a child’s.
I still wasn’t sure how to respond. “U-Uh...m…”
Suddenly, his eyes widened as if he realized something. “I didn’t mean that in a romantic way,” he clarified. “I just want you to be the first to try out our new dessert. You can bring your friends along, if you’d like.”
Oh, I get it now. Although relieved to have him define the reason for his invitation, my heart continued to pound inside my chest and I was afraid to admit why. What were you expecting, Kokoro?
“...Sure.”
He made a peace sign with his right hand and smiled widely. For a moment, I saw the old Ban-chan I knew in middle school. Although tonight’s chance encounter was far from ideal, I sincerely appreciated that he purposefully did not ask any prying questions. Instead, he provided a safe place for me to release my emotions, invited me to dine with him because he knew deep down that I would be lonely otherwise, and gave my voice value when I felt worthless. Before the night was over, I was smiling again. My heart was still hurting, but I no longer felt lost.
“Thank you, Ban-chan,” I verbalized my gratitude. “What would I have done if we didn’t run into each other tonight?”
“Good to see you’re smiling again. Could I take you home? It’s getting dark out.”
I shook my head quickly. “Oh, no, that’s okay. You’ve helped me plenty today. I’ll take the train home.”
“You don’t learn, do you, Nijishima?” He let out a chuckle through his nose. “Let a guy be nice, will ya?”
My mind began spiraling. Somewhere deep in my memory, I thought I could hear Sho-san’s faint voice say, “What’s wrong with letting someone take care of you, Miss Kokoro?” I felt my heart tightening. Everything reminded me of him. Though I had learned to live haunted by these memories, I didn’t think another man I knew could draw it out of me. No one ever told me that heartbreak could be literal.
“I’ll compromise; let me call for a taxi, all right?”
It seemed as though Ban-chan could tell I was fighting an invisible demon within. He didn’t press any further and offered me a way out while still giving himself some control of the situation. Although some guilt remained, I decided on listening to both the man in front of me and the man inside my head.
.
.
.
“This is the restaurant? He must be rich!” Reiko’s eyes sparkled excitedly.
“He’s our age? Damn.” Juri sighed, astonished. “Makes me feel like an underachiever.”
Next Friday arrived alarmingly fast. As requested, I returned to Trattoria Baccanale with my two, best friends. Though there was no dress code, we were stopping by for dinner so all of us had dressed for the occasion. I had told the girls it’d be a night of pampering ourselves. While they both gave their first impressions of the restaurant, an elegant woman, perhaps in her mid-40s, greeted us at the door.
“Good evening. Do you have a reservation?”
“Uh, yes. Under Nijishima,” I replied. While I waited for my taxi, Ban-chan told me that night to give my name to the receptionist once I arrived. He said he’d take care of the rest.
The woman’s face lit up as if a lightbulb had turned on in her head. “Ah, Nijishima-sama. It’s our pleasure to see you here. Right this way.”
The familiar ambience greeted me and the delectable scents made my nose tingle. My friends followed closely behind, looking around to take it all in. Our table was at a corner of the restaurant with a lovely view of the garden outside. Once we had all taken a seat--Juri and Reiko side by side and me on the other side of the table-- I felt like I was in some interrogation room.
“What is this place, Kokoro?” Juri began.
“And who do you have to know to frequent a fancy place like this?!” Reiko added.
“Reiko. Kokoro doesn’t just frequent this place. She gets invited by the owner,” Juri corrected.
“You guys…!” I put my hands up for them to stop. “I’m just returning a favor.”
Juri pointed her finger at me, then brought it to her chin. “About that…”
“...What about it?” I asked.
“Ban-san, was it?” she continued.
I nodded.
“Just who is this man?” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
Mine widened in return. “W-What?! Oh, no, no… it’s definitely not what you think it is.”
Reiko chimed in, “Okay, but he spotted you as you left the cafe, let you cry to your heart’s content…”
“In his own car, no less,” Juri interjected.
“Right, in his own car. And then, he brought you to this restaurant outside business hours and made you dinner?” Reiko rolled her eyes, astounded that I seemed oblivious to the elephant in the room.
“Exactly,” Juri agreed.
“We’re old friends,” I clarified. “Wouldn’t you help a comrade in need, too?”
They looked at each other and tilted their heads in disagreement.
“Not to this extent,” said Reiko.
“I’d only do this for the two of you,” Juri admitted.
As I pondered on their speculations, a slender man came to serve us water and took our drink order. Juri was the only one who ordered wine. Reiko pointed to her belly and picked up her water, and I, of course, had no choice.
“Are you still not up for drinking anything else?” Reiko asked, concerned.
I smiled back to assure her. “It’s more out of habit now.”
As if our conversation reminded her, Juri opened her mouth hesitantly. “Hey, Kokoro. About that time at the cafe…”
“I’m so sorry,” Reiko put her hands together in front of her. “I yelled at Toma after we left the cafe. I can’t believe he brought Sho-san.”
The memories came flooding back. Those cold, passionless eyes. The indifference in his voice. I didn’t want to believe he was the same man. If our hypothesis were true and he was indeed framed for money, couldn’t he find ways to prove all this wrong and turn it against his enemies? Was it enough of a reason to push me out of his life completely? I thought it over and over since, but no answer persuaded me. Instead, I was left with a sense of defeat, that he indeed is the father of that boy, and that Riina is the mother.
“After you left, Sho-san stayed for a few minutes,” Juri filled the silence. “He didn’t say much, though. Didn’t even sit down.”
Reiko nodded. “But, he did tell Toma that he shouldn’t make a decision he will regret. ‘What is best for the baby? What is best for Reiko-san? If the first question you asked yourself was, ‘What is best for me?’ you will regret your decision,’ he said.”
“As much as I wanted to punch him in the face for hurting you, I couldn’t,” Juri sighed in frustration. “I can’t hate him. It annoys me to admit it, but I can’t.”
I bit the inside of my cheeks to keep my emotions intact. I know that feeling all too well. No matter how much I wanted to hate the man, forget him and move on, I couldn’t. He was never a two-sides-to-a-coin kind of guy. He was like a kaleidoscope, beautiful and magnetic, yet changing and unpredictable. Though he stands tall, I know the demons within keep him from moving forward. It made him look fragile in my eyes and I couldn’t fathom crushing such a delicate soul. I didn’t want to abandon him.
“Toma called me a few days after our meeting. He said he thought about it some more and wants to be in the child’s life in a significant way.” Reiko stated.
“Meaning…?” Juri raised her eyebrows.
“He wants to be a father. And a husband.”
I sighed, relieved to hear the news. “That’s wonderful, Reiko. I’m so happy for you.”
“He better have changed his mind. We wouldn’t have forgiven him otherwise,” Juri crossed her arms.
Reiko looked into my eyes. “You know why he had a change of heart?”
“Hm?”
“He said Sho-san called him so they could meet in private. Sho-san could tell Toma was struggling to make a decision. He convinced Toma to do the right thing and stay.”
Juri took a sip of the wine that had been delivered to our table and pouted her lips. “See, this is why I can’t hate the guy.”
The right thing…? The #1 host of Akatsuki would never be caught dead mistreating a woman. If he told Toma to stay because of a child, then he would hold himself to the same standard. Was it inevitable that our relationship would end? Would things have been different if there was no child? What kind of fate would have awaited us if I had met him first?
“Kokoro…” It took Juri’s concerned voice to realize I had started crying.
“S-Sorry,” I forced a smile.
“I know it’s not the happy ending we had all hoped for for you, but now I’m certain he made the decision in your best interest. He truly loves you,” Reiko spoke with quiet conviction.
More tears made their way down my cheeks. I know. In my heart, I know that fully because I still trust him. Even in the sorrow he helped create, it seemed he was trying to comfort me. I didn’t know whether to feel anger or gratitude.
“Excuse me.” The slender man returned with three antipasto dishes. “The chef has requested that I get you started with your course meal.”
Only then did I realize that we had never received a menu. I quickly gathered myself and cleared my throat. “...I’m sorry?”
“Please let me know in advance if any of you have food allergies or sensitivities.” He placed the antipasto in front of each of us. “This is a seasonal root vegetable bagna càuda.”
I still wasn’t fully understanding the situation, but the pungent scent of garlic and anchovies filled the space and ignited our appetite. After looking across the table at two more confused faces, I eyed the slender man and raised my eyebrows for an explanation.
“Tonight’s dinner is on the house.” He bowed politely and took his leave.
.
.
.
“My god, Kokoro. You were keeping this place a secret from us this whole time?! This has got to be the best Italian food I’ve ever had!” Reiko exclaimed.
“I wouldn’t mind if we made this restaurant our regular hangout,” Juri chimed in.
Indeed, every course was delectable, full of flavor and yet, complementing the inherent aromas of each ingredient. Though I didn’t do any of the cooking, it made me happy to hear my friends rave about the food. I knew Ban-chan had the skills of an amazing chef, but it also takes a special talent to make people smile with your cooking. I almost wished he could see their joyful expressions because they were the fruits of his labor.
“I apologize for the interruption. I came by to see if you enjoyed your meal.”
“Ban-chan…!” I shouted a little too loudly. I brought my napkin to my mouth in embarrassment.
“Good evening. I’m Ban, owner and chef.”
He bowed toward Juri and Reiko, who were now stunned silent as they looked up at the man greeting them. Just under his chef’s hat rested defined eyebrows, gentle eyes that formed a crescent shape when he smiled, broad shoulders fitting well underneath a white, knot button jacket, clean, slender fingers crossed in front of his torso. He possessed a stately quality that seemed to enchant all those who interacted with him.
“Was the meal to your liking?” He glanced over at me and smiled.
“...I’m sorry. You’re ‘Ban-chan’? Kokoro’s friend from middle school ‘Ban-chan’?” Reiko asked, wide-eyed.
“I am,” he chuckled. “Had Nijishima given you a different impression?”
Reiko’s jaw dropped to the ground. “S-She didn’t tell us you were so…”
Ban-chan’s eyebrows rose playfully. “So…?”
“U-Uh…!” I cleared my throat. “Ban-chan. That’s Reiko, and Juri. They’re my best friends.”
“Reiko-sama. Juri-sama. It’s my pleasure to serve you,” he bowed again.
“Everything was super delicious. I especially enjoyed the Ragù Napoletano. I could tell the meat was browned well and that it took hours and hours of cooking to get all those deep flavors. The onions and parsley pulled out all sorts of different aromas, too. You just keep upping your game,” I complimented.
“I can count on you to notice the details,” he beamed. “Are we ready for dessert?”
His eyes sparkled like a child’s. There was a sort of innocence about him that I had first attributed to my knowing him from earlier on in our lives. Now, I knew it was just who he was, excited about life and delighting others with his talents. It was a trait I had long left behind somewhere in the past, and it surprised me how someone could grow up in such a broken world and still keep that part of themselves intact. He embodied the things I no longer was, but wished I could be. I nodded, smiling back.
“Oh, my god, Kokoro…” Reiko seemed like she was finally breathing again after Ban-chan left the table. “He’s gorgeous!”
Juri, who hadn’t said anything since his arrival, finally opened her mouth. “You two were in the same class?”
I nodded and stated matter-of-factly, “We sat next to each other.”
Reiko slapped her forehead with her hand like I had said something offensive. “Seriously, Kokoro? I bet the other girls killed for that seat!”
I hadn’t really thought about that before. He hung out with the popular crowd, the guys who used to tell me that “comfortable doesn’t attract us.” I suppose that meant he was also one of the popular ones. It never occurred to me to investigate his love life, though the rumor was that he never dated anyone in middle school.
“We’re not trying to put ideas in your head,” Juri assured, then chose her next words carefully. “But, I think it’s okay to let yourself trust someone else.”
I digested her words and understood what she was trying to say. Both of them had seen me drag my broken heart around for years when things fell through with Ryota, and I knew that they were simply looking out for me. In no way was I ready for anything new. In fact, it terrified me even thinking that someone could replace Sho-san. Still, I knew their hearts were in the right place.
“Here you are: a Sfinci Tiramisu.”
Ban-chan returned to our table with three dishes. I remembered what the dessert looked like that one night, so I was slightly shocked to see that not much had changed visually. As the name suggested, it looked like tiramisu on a white plate. It was cut in a triangular shape and adorned with cocoa powder and chocolate shavings. Upon first glance, I couldn’t really tell what had changed.
“A what tiramisu?” Juri asked.
“Sfinci. Think funnel cake, but fluffier on the inside and crunchier on the outside,” Ban-chan explained.
“That sounds delicious!” Reiko replied delightfully.
I took the dessert spoon and scooped up a corner of the tiramisu. The bite took my taste buds for a ride. Airy, mascarpone complementing the fluffiness of the fried dough, the hint of cinnamon working well with the rum. I would have thought the fried batter would make the dish too oily, but I was pleasantly surprised at how light it was. Though it looked like what I had tried last week, the dish had transformed into something absolutely divine.
“What do you think?” Ban-chan asked eagerly.
“...Wow.”
He chuckled and scratched his temple. “Still not to your liking? I was expecting an essay.”
I looked straight up at him with earnest eyes. “You’ve left me speechless. It’s that divine.”
“Well, I can’t take all the credit.” He grinned from ear to ear like a kid receiving praise. “Your input really transformed the dessert.”
Juri stared at me mid-bite. I glanced back with inquiring eyes. She took a sip of water and put her spoon down.
“Wait… you helped make this?” She asked, amazed.
I shook my head. “No way! Ban-chan did the hard part. I just… ate it,” I chuckled.
“You know how she gets when she eats,” Ban-chan teased. “I used her talents to my advantage.”
“Oh, my god. So, she’s been critiquing food since middle school?” Reiko giggled.
Ban-chan nodded as he looked over at me. “I knew I could count on her insight. It won’t appear on the menu until tomorrow. I wanted Nijishima to be the first to try her own creation.”
My cheeks felt warm from all the teasing I had just received. And yet, I noticed something strange: I wasn’t mortified or uncomfortable in my own skin. In fact, there was a part of me that had embraced this quirk. I traced back my memory to figure out when I had changed the way I see myself and instantly regretted it. All roads lead back to you, Sho-san. There was no denying how much his encouraging ways had truly transformed me. Even though I could no longer share this moment with him, I thanked him quietly for helping me love myself, just as I am.
.
.
.
“I’m stuffed!” Reiko huffed. “Thank you for such a wonderful meal.”
“I feel incredibly guilty eating so much without paying a penny,” Juri added apologetically.
Ban-chan smiled and bowed. “It was my pleasure. Please come back soon.”
“We sure will,” Juri answered.
“Let’s grab a taxi. I don’t feel like taking the train,” Reiko moaned.
As Juri opened the doors to the restaurant, Ban-chan stopped me. “Nijishima, could I borrow you for a second?”
Before I could respond, Reiko answered for me. “We’ll wait for you outside!” The doors closed behind them.
“Thanks again for coming,” Ban-chan grinned.
“Are you kidding me? I should be the one thanking you. You didn’t tell me you’d be treating us!”
“You wouldn’t have come if I divulged that,” he said matter-of-factly. “Am I right?”
He was. I pouted my lips in playful protest.
After a quick chuckle, he cleared his throat. “Are you doing anything next Saturday?”
“Well, I work the early shift so I should be free by evening. Why? Is it for me to try another dish, because I should start charging you for that,” I joked.
“Actually, I was hoping I could take you out on a date.”
Excuse me...?
I thought I had misheard him at first, but his gaze was sincere and his expression, earnest. My mind began spinning. Was this really happening? Why now, after Juri and Reiko had inadvertently planted that little seed in my head? Is he really the same Ban-chan I knew in middle school? And, most puzzling of all, why did he assume I was available for a date? I never explicitly told him Sho-san and I had parted ways, though I suppose my emotional breakdown could have given me away. Still, I was full of questions to which I knew I didn’t know the answers. He waited patiently for me to respond, his eyes confidently poised in a determined gaze.