Eyes Like Honey - A Sakurai Sho Fanfic (7/?)
Pairing: Sakurai Sho x Fictional Female (Reader) *see note below
Rating: R for whole series, PG-13 for Ch.7
Genre: Romance, Drama
Word count: 4,248
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 Seven: Umbrella Term
“After you, Miss Kokoro.”
The “date” continued on just the two of us, and in true 34 fashion, he led the way while I followed, with no idea where we were headed. When we arrived at our destination, he held the door open and waited for me to walk into the restaurant first. Well, it was more like an izakaya once I stepped in. From every direction, I could hear clinking of glasses in celebration of some occasion, laughter booming as alcohol impaired the imbibers’ volume controls, and the hustle-bustle of servers’ feet as they shuffled busily from one table to another.
“Good evening, how many?” A young woman wearing a bandana rushed over to the door to tend to me. Used to speaking across the room, her voice was loud and piercing.
“Maki-chan.” 34 closed the door behind him and waved.
“Sakurai sempai…!” Her eyes grew a size larger at the sight of an unexpected customer. “Long time, no see!” A huge smile crossed her face.
Does he know everyone in Tokyo…?
“It’s been a while,” 34 agreed. “Could you put us in the back room?”
The young woman shifted her gaze from 34 to me and realized that we were in the same party. “Let me see what I can do.” She gave me a friendly smile.
After a few moments, she returned and gave us a thumbs up. “All yours.”
“Thanks,” 34 said as he stepped forward and led the way. We passed several tables and a bar area before we reached a walkway that led to a door. He slid the door aside. Inside, there was a single table atop a tatami-floored private room. He removed his shoes and stepped in, then retrieved two seat cushions and placed one on either side of the table. He looked at me still standing by the door.
“Aren’t you coming in?” He pointed to a seat cushion and invited me to sit.
I removed my shoes and accepted his invitation. It was hard to imagine this being a part of the same izakaya; the busyness didn’t bother us in here. As soon as I took my seat, the young woman excused herself into the room with some water and wet hand towels.
“Could I get you anything else to drink?” she asked. “Oh, and Sakurai sempai. The first drink is on the house,” she smiled.
“You don’t need to do that,” 34 courteously replied.
“Please. It’s my treat.” She was eager to treat him well.
“If you insist.” He looked my way. “What would you like?”
“Oh, um…” I scan their drink menu. Sidecar. I remember the last time I ordered this drink and quickly change my mind. “Beer, I guess?”
“Their umeshu selection is outstanding,” he suggested. “Want to give it a shot?”
“If you’re thinking about trying umeshu, I’d recommend the Yumehibiki,” the young woman explained.
“That’s a good one,” 34 agreed. I wasn’t much of a umeshu drinker, but the same could have been said about cognac. He had yet to disappoint me with drink choices, and tonight was probably no different.
“All right, I’ll take that.”
“You won’t regret it,” the young woman assured. Then, before taking 34’s order, she reached out her hand and flashed a smile. “I’m Maki!”
Although slightly taken aback, I took her hand and shook it. “…I’m Kokoro.”
“Hi, Kokoro-san!” She was full of energy. “I just want to let you know that a friend of Sakurai sempai’s is also a friend of mine.”
I stared at 34 in confusion, but he didn’t join our conversation. He sat there, hands behind him on the ground, leaning back. Clearly, he was enjoying watching me stumble through this situation.
“Thank you,” I replied. Not knowing what to do with my hands, I take the glass of water and bring it to my lips.
“Sakurai sempai! You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend!” Maki gave a friendly slap on 34’s shoulder. Water nearly came out my nose.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” 34 answered nonchalantly. Then, he watched me put the glass down and wipe my mouth with my fingers. “Not yet, anyway.”
Excuse me…?
I start coughing uncontrollably.
“So she’s the type of girl you like, huh?” Maki nodded in approval. “I like her.”
“Me, too,” he said, without breaking his gaze.
“Sorry, sempai. I haven’t even taken your order!” Taking out her pen again, she waited for him to make his choice.
“I’ll just take a Kirin. First press, if you have it.”
“We do!” She jotted down his order and stood up to leave. “Kokoro-san.”
“Yes?”
“I hope you know you’re one lucky gal.” With that, she left the room.
34 hadn’t moved, his arms still behind him, relaxed and unaffected. He watched me fidget uncomfortably, obviously flustered by the word grenade his friend had left behind. Suddenly, he let out the laugh he had tried to bury.
“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”
The blood gushed upward to my face, and I could feel my cheeks turning red. It was unfair: he knew that the more he teased, the more uncomfortable I’d be in my own skin.
“Are you having fun at my expense?” I breathe deeply in an attempt to calm my nerves.
“I see you’re not good at taking compliments,” 34 observed.
I fell silent. He was right about me again. Ever since I could remember, I was afraid of receiving compliments. Every compliment came an expectation. If someone praised me for my creative mind, I was terrified of letting him or her down with some mediocre idea. If a man commended me for my looks, I dreaded the day he’d see me in sweats, sans makeup.
“By the way,” he carried on. “Did you change the passcode to your phone?” He looked my way with a knowing smile.
“N-No…”
“You should. Men can take advantage of situations like that.” He took a sip of his water.
“You DID take advantage,” I corrected. Who knows what information he had accessed without my discretion?
“Did I?” His curious eyes scanned my face, his voice sultry and suggestive.
“That’s why you texted me.”
“And you texted me back,” he reminded. “I didn’t know you were an emoji user.” He let out a chuckle.
“Oh, geez…” I cover my eyes with my hands. “That-”
“That wasn’t you? Is that what you were going to say?”
I peeked from between my fingers and nodded.
“I know,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’d guess it was Miss Reiko?”
I was astonished. “H…How did you know that?”
“I told you. I’m a good guesser.” His eyes twinkled delightfully. “Plus, you’re not an emoji kind of woman.”
How did you know that?
“You like what I did with my name?” he smirked.
I bite the inside of my cheek. “Are you making fun of me again? Am I just ‘Miss 33’ to you?”
“Aren’t I just ‘34’ to you?” he challenged. “You’ve yet to call me by my real name, save for that one time you accused me for not introducing myself.”
My posture loosens as I let out a sigh. He was right, once again.
“That’s all right,” he said. “It’s your nickname for me, just like ‘Miss 33’ is mine for you.”
A nickname. I hadn’t thought about it like that before. There was an exclusive element to it, a sort of codename only we shared. I liked that.
“No one else calls you that, do they?” He took one hand and scratched the back of his head. “Let’s keep it that way.”
Leaving me struggling for words, he turned toward the door where there was a knock. Maki returned, our drinks in hand.
“Here’s your Yumehibiki, and this is your Kirin, first press.” She placed the glasses down. “Did you want anything to eat?”
In my embarrassment, I had totally forgotten to look through their menu. But 34, calm and composed as ever, started ordering for the both of us.
“Let’s get the radish salad, the yakitori sampler, and, do you still have those special takoyaki?”
Maki nodded encouragingly.
“Then, an order of that, too,” he added.
“I’ll tell them to add extra octopus in your takoyaki,” Maki grinned.
--
Another server delivered the food, and once again, he did not disappoint. The radish was crisp and went perfectly with the plum-vinegar dressing, the yakitori was cooked to perfection with just the right amount of salt, and the special takoyaki had every right to be called ‘special’. They had used a house special chicken stock in the mix, allowing the outer layer to be crispy but leaving the inside fluffy and juicy.
“This is amazing!” I raved. “Do they use more chicken stock than other places? Because the inside is so flu…” My sentence trailed off. I revisit a memory from lunch earlier today, and refrain from dissecting the recipe further.
“The inside is so…?” 34 pressed me to finish my sentence.
I shook my head defiantly.
“Oh, I see. You think I’m going to tease you again,” he nodded as he popped one, large takoyaki in his mouth.
“Certainly wouldn’t put it past you,” I said skeptically.
He chewed on the food, cheeks ballooning from the delectable bite. I had always seen him as a mysterious Don Juan, dangerous and captivating, calculating and seductive. But in this moment, I thought I saw a different side of him, an endearing man, satisfied with something as simple as a single takoyaki.
“Oh…” I pointed to the corner of my mouth. He had a bit of sauce that got left there.
Intrigued, he took the opportunity to tease me again. “You want to get it for me?”
I drop my chopsticks in surprise. Great. Let the teasing begin.
His eyes followed my chopsticks. One fell on the table, the other on the seat cushion. As suspected, he let out a laugh.
“Didn’t know my words had that kind of effect on you,” he smiled. Then, he parted his juicy lips, took his middle finger to the corner of his mouth, wiped the sauce off, and sucked the tip of his finger to clean it. My heart began to race once more.
“Wh…What are you talking about?” Flustered, my hands fidget and don’t work like I want them to trying to collect the chopsticks.
He observed me making a fool out of myself once again, and repeated himself. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”
I hang my head and close my eyes in defeat. Looking back up at him, I hide my red cheeks with my hands. “Do you enjoy making fun of me?”
Then, I remember a conversation I once had with a client.
“Here’s what you do. Watch him interact with other women. I’ll bet you a handsome and successful doctor that he won’t tease any of them like he teases you. You’re special to him.”
I recalled the events from earlier this afternoon and how it had bothered me, the way he interacted with Juri and Reiko. Lost in my thoughts, I release my hands from my rosy cheeks.
“I see you’re still not good at taking compliments,” he responded. “That’s all right, we’ll work on that.”
Huh?
Once again, I was lost in the labyrinth of his magic.
“Anyway, I’m sorry about earlier,” he changed the subject.
“Sorry about what?”
He looked at me, eyebrows raised. “About Shun.”
Oh, my god.
How could I forget?
“That’s right,” I replied defiantly. “Why did Shun leave all of a sudden?” This may be the only upper hand I get.
“I don’t like him,” he stated firmly.
“…What?”
“Miss Juri deserves someone better.”
My jaw dropped, astonished. “How would you know that? Juri really likes him. Now, she’s under the impression that she did something wrong.”
He put his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his fingers. “I’m sorry for that misunderstanding,” he stated, his voice sincere. “But I won’t apologize for not liking him.” His expression wasn’t hostile, but there was a sense of rigidity to it, and his gaze urged me not to question further. But who would you be if you didn’t embarrass yourself, Kokoro?
“…Why don’t you like him?” It was a gamble, and I wasn’t sure if he’d give me an answer. I took extra care in how I phrased the question.
Just then, we heard a knock at the door. “Sempai? Do you remember Mr. Isono?” An older man, perhaps in his late forties, bowed and entered the room.
“Mr. Isono!” Immediately, 34’s expression loosened into a friendly smile. “How’ve you been?”
“I’ve been very well,” the man replied politely.
“And that’s Kokoro-san,” Maki introduced. I smiled to acknowledge.
“W…ait, you never told me you had a girlfriend.” Mr. Isono looked curiously at 34.
34 chuckled and held out his hand toward the door. “Care to show me around?”
The two men exited the room, and I was left alone with Maki. I was no recluse, but I was also no social butterfly. In context, I could be chatty, say, with my clients at work. But under such peculiar circumstances, I wasn’t really sure what to say. I barely knew her, after all.
She broke the ice. “I meant what I said earlier, about you being lucky.”
“O-Oh?”
“You could say I owe Sakurai sempai my life.”
…Huh?
The conversation took an unexpected turn and I had a hard time digesting everything.
“He and I met at Keio,” she explained. “I was just a freshman when he was a senior. He was part of the university soccer team, so I joined the women’s team in hopes to get close to him.”
“I see,” I nodded. What did she mean by getting close to him?
“He was suuuuper popular. I don’t think I met a single Keio girl who didn’t like him. He was and still probably is the object of every woman’s desire. He’s quite a legend there.” I watched her describe 34 as a university student. She spoke quite a bit with her hands, her animated face eager to share. It was strange to hear about him out of context of what I knew, that he had a life outside of my understanding.
“Anyway, about halfway through the school year, I confessed my feelings to him. In hindsight, I’m sure my confession was just one of the hundreds he’d received during his time at Keio, but I didn’t want to regret not telling him, you know?”
“And…?” I tried to sound as unaffected as possible. This was years ago, Kokoro.
“Nothing,” she shook her head. “He said he was flattered, but that I’d be better off dating someone who could make me happy.”
“…Why would he say that?” I furrow my eyebrows.
“I still don’t know to this day,” she shrugged her shoulders. “But it hurt me a lot back then, feeling rejected. That’s when this other guy started showing interest in me. He was my year… shoot, I can’t even remember his name now.” She chuckled to herself. “I guess time does heal everything.”
I smile at her. “And look, you’re able to laugh about it now.” I wondered when that time would come for me.
“Yeah, I guess so!” she laughed back. “Well, anyway, he was really assertive with his advances, and I was also in a vulnerable place. So, I started dating him. But then, it turned out that he was only using me for my body.”
I felt disgusted. No one deserves such humiliating treatment. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“Me, too. But you know, even painful events have a silver lining. Sakurai sempai taught me that.”
“Hm?” I tilt my head, intrigued.
“That guy was harassing me after class. He wanted me to go to a love hotel with him. I just thought things were moving way too fast, plus, my parents would’ve killed me if they had found out. Sakurai sempai spotted us and intervened.”
“What?”
“I still remember what sempai told him, word for word: ‘Women aren’t mere objects of a man’s fancy.’ It stuck with me. Gosh… I can remember all these details, but not the name of the douchebag. What’s wrong with me?” She laughed at herself.
“Women aren’t mere objects of a man’s fancy.”
The beautiful words echoed inside my mind and ricocheted like bullets through the heart.
“Oh, my god! Shun!! That was his name!” Maki exclaimed. “I knew that information was in there somewhere,” she said as she tapped her head.
…Wait.
Shun??
“Uh, y-you said his name was Shun?” I needed to make sure.
“Yeah, Kanemoto Shun. He was on the same soccer team as Sakurai sempai, but after that incident, he picked up bowling instead. I guess it got too awkward for him. A classmate who’s connected to him on Facebook told me he’s a vet now, but I don’t believe it. I used to pay for him every time we went on a date because he didn’t like to work. There’s no way he could pass vet school. What a filthy liar.” She shook her head in disapproval.
Oh, my god.
This is the same Shun.
Shocked and revolted, all I can do is keep myself from looking angry.
“I don’t like him.”
“Miss Juri deserves someone better.”
And here I was, thinking it was selfish of him to interrupt Shun’s date with Juri. I was filled with remorse for accusing him earlier.
“Goodness, I’m sorry! I totally blabbed on about myself,” Maki apologized. “Enough about me. How did you and Sakurai sempai meet?”
“U-Uh…” My mind was in overdrive from all the information it had just received. I was having a hard time stringing sentences together.
“Are you a photographer, too?” she asked.
“…Excuse me?”
“Have you seen his stuff? They’re breathtaking,” she said longingly. “I thought you were one of his colleagues.”
“O-Oh, uh… n-no.” Actually, he’s a nightclub host and I’m his client. There was no way I could say that.
“Oh. Well, if you haven’t seen his works, you’re missing out. He’s contracted with huge publications, and even has his own photobook.”
…What?
"I do this in my free time."
Isn’t that what you told me?
Maki sighed, but was smiling. “I don’t know how you got him, but you really are a lucky gal.”
I chuckled nervously.
“It’s no hyperbole when I say that he had women swarming around him to get a glimpse of him play, to be the first to give him presents after a match, to have the chance to be with him.” She started cleaning up the table. “But the legend goes, that he rejected every single confession of love for him. Even the prettiest, smartest, richest girls wouldn’t do.”
I watch her as she reminisced on younger days. She spoke so fondly of them and I could understand why. Where he is, the world becomes more vibrant and exciting, the same smells and sounds feel fresh and untainted, the mundane becomes extraordinary. It seemed he had that power on everyone in his life.
“But you,” she stopped her hands to look at me. “Clearly, there’s something special about you. You must be different. I must admit, I’m a bit jealous.”
I shook my head. “Really… I’m not that special. Very plain, actually.” I laugh awkwardly at myself. Even I couldn’t really understand why he wanted to spend time with me.
“Don’t talk like that, Kokoro-san.” Maki refused to hear it. “I need to believe there’s something special about you. Otherwise, I can’t come to terms with all this.”
The struggle in her eyes pained me.
“Kokoro-san.” Her expression was formal and solemn. “Please take good care of Sakurai sempai.” Maki turned her whole body toward me and bowed deeply, her hands on the tatami.
“M-Miss Maki, please… there’s no need for this.” I touch her arm and tell her to raise her head.
“I want to see sempai happy,” she looked into my eyes. “I think you can help him with that.”
Overwhelmed with her trust in me and the crushing responsibility of what she had revealed, all I could do was nod resolutely.
“You better come back here more often.” A man’s voice broke the silence.
“I will,” 34 replied.
“And bring her, too,” Mr. Isono poked his head into the room and pointed at me.
“Certainly.” 34 nodded and walked back into the room. He checked to see that I was done eating. “Are you ready to go?”
“Y-Yeah.” I get up and grab my purse. “What about the bill?” I remember suddenly.
“Mr. Sakurai has already taken care of it,” Mr. Isono bowed. “Your money is no good here.”
Grinning, 34 waited for me at the door. He made this sort of thing look effortless.
“Sakurai sempai!” Maki stood in front of him with a determined expression.
“Hm?” His voice was gentle and inviting.
“I like her,” she asserted.
“Me, too,” he repeated.
“And I’m so happy that you’re happy.” She then smiled to fight back the tears welling up in her eyes.
“You’re a good girl, Maki-chan,” he pat her on the shoulder. “It makes me happy that you’re happy, too.”
In that moment, I could see everything about their relationship. For Maki, it wasn’t merely feelings of longing and love; she respected and admired him. And 34, though still shrouded in mystery, was an honorable man who could make any woman feel like they were on top of the world, even those he had turned away. His magic was not exclusive; it affected everyone and everything around him.
I take a deep breath. It seemed the feelings I have for him fell short to hers. And yet, she congratulated us with dignity. Being in love with 34 was never a casual affair, but Maki reminded me that what I have is remarkable, that other women yearned to have what I have. I vow to commit to my feelings. Otherwise, I would be doing a disservice to her and the many others he had turned down over the years.
Mr. Isono opened the door for us to exit, and suddenly, we heard pounding rain.
“Oh, dear. Did you bring an umbrella, Mr. Sakurai?” he asked.
“Unfortunately, no,” 34 replied. I shook my head to signal that I didn’t bring one, either.
“One moment.” Mr. Isono rushed to the back of the izakaya, and came back with one umbrella. “This was left here by one of our customers a while back. I’m sure he’d appreciate it being put to good use.” He handed the umbrella to 34.
“Thank you, Mr. Isono,” 34 smiled and bowed.
“Please come back soon, Sakurai sempai!” Maki waved. “You too, Kokoro-san.” Her eyes were full of trust. I nodded once again, returning the gaze. I’ll do my best not to let you down.
Once outside and under the awning, he stuck his hand out toward me. “Let me see that,” he said, and took my purse.
“What are you doing?” I look up at him, bewildered.
He undid the parka on his hips and covered my purse with it. “It’s a nice purse. I don’t want it to get wet.” He gave a fleeting grin and held the parka close to his chest. “Come on.”
The rain hammered on the umbrella and I could barely see a few feet in front of me. He held it over us, but it was much too small for two people.
“Stand close,” he invited with his hand. “I’ll take you home.”
--
By the time we got off the train and walked back to my apartment, it was already past 11:00PM. The rain showed no sign of stopping, and it was getting a little chilly.
“Will you be okay from here?” He had walked me all the way to the entrance of my building. He folded the umbrella momentarily while we stood under the covering.
“Yes…” I nodded. For the amount of rain coming down, I stayed relatively dry, I thought. My booties were swimming in water and my bare legs were shining from the moisture, but other than that, the damage was minimal.
“Here.” 34 handed me my purse. It was completely dry and warm from his body heat.
“Thank you.” When I retrieved it, my hand accidentally grazed his. It felt very cold. “Oh, my gosh…” I noticed that his shirt was almost completely wet, drops of water dripping from his bangs and arms. His shoes were soggy, and his jeans had gotten a shade or two darker from soaking up the rain.
“Hm?” His voice was sweet and smooth, like honey.
“You’re soaked!” I stared at him, concerned.
“I’ll be all right,” he smiled gently. “Good night, Miss 33.”
“No, wait…” I stop him. “You should come inside and dry off.”
The corner of his mouth curled, and he set his trap. “Are you inviting me up to your room?”
My lips part, embarrassed. “N-No, I just thought you’d catch a cold…!” My futile attempt to explain myself was all in vain.
His smirk metamorphosed into a grin. “So, on the pretense of caring about me, you want to invite me up to your room?”
I was starting to feel warm from the blood rushing to my cheeks. “Forget it,” I sulked.
He shook the water from his head with his fingers. “You can’t take back an invitation. That’s rude.”
I can’t win.
I punch in the access code, and the elevator doors open to let us in.
Rating: R for whole series, PG-13 for Ch.7
Genre: Romance, Drama
Word count: 4,248
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 Seven: Umbrella Term
“After you, Miss Kokoro.”
The “date” continued on just the two of us, and in true 34 fashion, he led the way while I followed, with no idea where we were headed. When we arrived at our destination, he held the door open and waited for me to walk into the restaurant first. Well, it was more like an izakaya once I stepped in. From every direction, I could hear clinking of glasses in celebration of some occasion, laughter booming as alcohol impaired the imbibers’ volume controls, and the hustle-bustle of servers’ feet as they shuffled busily from one table to another.
“Good evening, how many?” A young woman wearing a bandana rushed over to the door to tend to me. Used to speaking across the room, her voice was loud and piercing.
“Maki-chan.” 34 closed the door behind him and waved.
“Sakurai sempai…!” Her eyes grew a size larger at the sight of an unexpected customer. “Long time, no see!” A huge smile crossed her face.
Does he know everyone in Tokyo…?
“It’s been a while,” 34 agreed. “Could you put us in the back room?”
The young woman shifted her gaze from 34 to me and realized that we were in the same party. “Let me see what I can do.” She gave me a friendly smile.
After a few moments, she returned and gave us a thumbs up. “All yours.”
“Thanks,” 34 said as he stepped forward and led the way. We passed several tables and a bar area before we reached a walkway that led to a door. He slid the door aside. Inside, there was a single table atop a tatami-floored private room. He removed his shoes and stepped in, then retrieved two seat cushions and placed one on either side of the table. He looked at me still standing by the door.
“Aren’t you coming in?” He pointed to a seat cushion and invited me to sit.
I removed my shoes and accepted his invitation. It was hard to imagine this being a part of the same izakaya; the busyness didn’t bother us in here. As soon as I took my seat, the young woman excused herself into the room with some water and wet hand towels.
“Could I get you anything else to drink?” she asked. “Oh, and Sakurai sempai. The first drink is on the house,” she smiled.
“You don’t need to do that,” 34 courteously replied.
“Please. It’s my treat.” She was eager to treat him well.
“If you insist.” He looked my way. “What would you like?”
“Oh, um…” I scan their drink menu. Sidecar. I remember the last time I ordered this drink and quickly change my mind. “Beer, I guess?”
“Their umeshu selection is outstanding,” he suggested. “Want to give it a shot?”
“If you’re thinking about trying umeshu, I’d recommend the Yumehibiki,” the young woman explained.
“That’s a good one,” 34 agreed. I wasn’t much of a umeshu drinker, but the same could have been said about cognac. He had yet to disappoint me with drink choices, and tonight was probably no different.
“All right, I’ll take that.”
“You won’t regret it,” the young woman assured. Then, before taking 34’s order, she reached out her hand and flashed a smile. “I’m Maki!”
Although slightly taken aback, I took her hand and shook it. “…I’m Kokoro.”
“Hi, Kokoro-san!” She was full of energy. “I just want to let you know that a friend of Sakurai sempai’s is also a friend of mine.”
I stared at 34 in confusion, but he didn’t join our conversation. He sat there, hands behind him on the ground, leaning back. Clearly, he was enjoying watching me stumble through this situation.
“Thank you,” I replied. Not knowing what to do with my hands, I take the glass of water and bring it to my lips.
“Sakurai sempai! You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend!” Maki gave a friendly slap on 34’s shoulder. Water nearly came out my nose.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” 34 answered nonchalantly. Then, he watched me put the glass down and wipe my mouth with my fingers. “Not yet, anyway.”
Excuse me…?
I start coughing uncontrollably.
“So she’s the type of girl you like, huh?” Maki nodded in approval. “I like her.”
“Me, too,” he said, without breaking his gaze.
“Sorry, sempai. I haven’t even taken your order!” Taking out her pen again, she waited for him to make his choice.
“I’ll just take a Kirin. First press, if you have it.”
“We do!” She jotted down his order and stood up to leave. “Kokoro-san.”
“Yes?”
“I hope you know you’re one lucky gal.” With that, she left the room.
34 hadn’t moved, his arms still behind him, relaxed and unaffected. He watched me fidget uncomfortably, obviously flustered by the word grenade his friend had left behind. Suddenly, he let out the laugh he had tried to bury.
“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”
The blood gushed upward to my face, and I could feel my cheeks turning red. It was unfair: he knew that the more he teased, the more uncomfortable I’d be in my own skin.
“Are you having fun at my expense?” I breathe deeply in an attempt to calm my nerves.
“I see you’re not good at taking compliments,” 34 observed.
I fell silent. He was right about me again. Ever since I could remember, I was afraid of receiving compliments. Every compliment came an expectation. If someone praised me for my creative mind, I was terrified of letting him or her down with some mediocre idea. If a man commended me for my looks, I dreaded the day he’d see me in sweats, sans makeup.
“By the way,” he carried on. “Did you change the passcode to your phone?” He looked my way with a knowing smile.
“N-No…”
“You should. Men can take advantage of situations like that.” He took a sip of his water.
“You DID take advantage,” I corrected. Who knows what information he had accessed without my discretion?
“Did I?” His curious eyes scanned my face, his voice sultry and suggestive.
“That’s why you texted me.”
“And you texted me back,” he reminded. “I didn’t know you were an emoji user.” He let out a chuckle.
“Oh, geez…” I cover my eyes with my hands. “That-”
“That wasn’t you? Is that what you were going to say?”
I peeked from between my fingers and nodded.
“I know,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’d guess it was Miss Reiko?”
I was astonished. “H…How did you know that?”
“I told you. I’m a good guesser.” His eyes twinkled delightfully. “Plus, you’re not an emoji kind of woman.”
How did you know that?
“You like what I did with my name?” he smirked.
I bite the inside of my cheek. “Are you making fun of me again? Am I just ‘Miss 33’ to you?”
“Aren’t I just ‘34’ to you?” he challenged. “You’ve yet to call me by my real name, save for that one time you accused me for not introducing myself.”
My posture loosens as I let out a sigh. He was right, once again.
“That’s all right,” he said. “It’s your nickname for me, just like ‘Miss 33’ is mine for you.”
A nickname. I hadn’t thought about it like that before. There was an exclusive element to it, a sort of codename only we shared. I liked that.
“No one else calls you that, do they?” He took one hand and scratched the back of his head. “Let’s keep it that way.”
Leaving me struggling for words, he turned toward the door where there was a knock. Maki returned, our drinks in hand.
“Here’s your Yumehibiki, and this is your Kirin, first press.” She placed the glasses down. “Did you want anything to eat?”
In my embarrassment, I had totally forgotten to look through their menu. But 34, calm and composed as ever, started ordering for the both of us.
“Let’s get the radish salad, the yakitori sampler, and, do you still have those special takoyaki?”
Maki nodded encouragingly.
“Then, an order of that, too,” he added.
“I’ll tell them to add extra octopus in your takoyaki,” Maki grinned.
--
Another server delivered the food, and once again, he did not disappoint. The radish was crisp and went perfectly with the plum-vinegar dressing, the yakitori was cooked to perfection with just the right amount of salt, and the special takoyaki had every right to be called ‘special’. They had used a house special chicken stock in the mix, allowing the outer layer to be crispy but leaving the inside fluffy and juicy.
“This is amazing!” I raved. “Do they use more chicken stock than other places? Because the inside is so flu…” My sentence trailed off. I revisit a memory from lunch earlier today, and refrain from dissecting the recipe further.
“The inside is so…?” 34 pressed me to finish my sentence.
I shook my head defiantly.
“Oh, I see. You think I’m going to tease you again,” he nodded as he popped one, large takoyaki in his mouth.
“Certainly wouldn’t put it past you,” I said skeptically.
He chewed on the food, cheeks ballooning from the delectable bite. I had always seen him as a mysterious Don Juan, dangerous and captivating, calculating and seductive. But in this moment, I thought I saw a different side of him, an endearing man, satisfied with something as simple as a single takoyaki.
“Oh…” I pointed to the corner of my mouth. He had a bit of sauce that got left there.
Intrigued, he took the opportunity to tease me again. “You want to get it for me?”
I drop my chopsticks in surprise. Great. Let the teasing begin.
His eyes followed my chopsticks. One fell on the table, the other on the seat cushion. As suspected, he let out a laugh.
“Didn’t know my words had that kind of effect on you,” he smiled. Then, he parted his juicy lips, took his middle finger to the corner of his mouth, wiped the sauce off, and sucked the tip of his finger to clean it. My heart began to race once more.
“Wh…What are you talking about?” Flustered, my hands fidget and don’t work like I want them to trying to collect the chopsticks.
He observed me making a fool out of myself once again, and repeated himself. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”
I hang my head and close my eyes in defeat. Looking back up at him, I hide my red cheeks with my hands. “Do you enjoy making fun of me?”
Then, I remember a conversation I once had with a client.
“Here’s what you do. Watch him interact with other women. I’ll bet you a handsome and successful doctor that he won’t tease any of them like he teases you. You’re special to him.”
I recalled the events from earlier this afternoon and how it had bothered me, the way he interacted with Juri and Reiko. Lost in my thoughts, I release my hands from my rosy cheeks.
“I see you’re still not good at taking compliments,” he responded. “That’s all right, we’ll work on that.”
Huh?
Once again, I was lost in the labyrinth of his magic.
“Anyway, I’m sorry about earlier,” he changed the subject.
“Sorry about what?”
He looked at me, eyebrows raised. “About Shun.”
Oh, my god.
How could I forget?
“That’s right,” I replied defiantly. “Why did Shun leave all of a sudden?” This may be the only upper hand I get.
“I don’t like him,” he stated firmly.
“…What?”
“Miss Juri deserves someone better.”
My jaw dropped, astonished. “How would you know that? Juri really likes him. Now, she’s under the impression that she did something wrong.”
He put his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his fingers. “I’m sorry for that misunderstanding,” he stated, his voice sincere. “But I won’t apologize for not liking him.” His expression wasn’t hostile, but there was a sense of rigidity to it, and his gaze urged me not to question further. But who would you be if you didn’t embarrass yourself, Kokoro?
“…Why don’t you like him?” It was a gamble, and I wasn’t sure if he’d give me an answer. I took extra care in how I phrased the question.
Just then, we heard a knock at the door. “Sempai? Do you remember Mr. Isono?” An older man, perhaps in his late forties, bowed and entered the room.
“Mr. Isono!” Immediately, 34’s expression loosened into a friendly smile. “How’ve you been?”
“I’ve been very well,” the man replied politely.
“And that’s Kokoro-san,” Maki introduced. I smiled to acknowledge.
“W…ait, you never told me you had a girlfriend.” Mr. Isono looked curiously at 34.
34 chuckled and held out his hand toward the door. “Care to show me around?”
The two men exited the room, and I was left alone with Maki. I was no recluse, but I was also no social butterfly. In context, I could be chatty, say, with my clients at work. But under such peculiar circumstances, I wasn’t really sure what to say. I barely knew her, after all.
She broke the ice. “I meant what I said earlier, about you being lucky.”
“O-Oh?”
“You could say I owe Sakurai sempai my life.”
…Huh?
The conversation took an unexpected turn and I had a hard time digesting everything.
“He and I met at Keio,” she explained. “I was just a freshman when he was a senior. He was part of the university soccer team, so I joined the women’s team in hopes to get close to him.”
“I see,” I nodded. What did she mean by getting close to him?
“He was suuuuper popular. I don’t think I met a single Keio girl who didn’t like him. He was and still probably is the object of every woman’s desire. He’s quite a legend there.” I watched her describe 34 as a university student. She spoke quite a bit with her hands, her animated face eager to share. It was strange to hear about him out of context of what I knew, that he had a life outside of my understanding.
“Anyway, about halfway through the school year, I confessed my feelings to him. In hindsight, I’m sure my confession was just one of the hundreds he’d received during his time at Keio, but I didn’t want to regret not telling him, you know?”
“And…?” I tried to sound as unaffected as possible. This was years ago, Kokoro.
“Nothing,” she shook her head. “He said he was flattered, but that I’d be better off dating someone who could make me happy.”
“…Why would he say that?” I furrow my eyebrows.
“I still don’t know to this day,” she shrugged her shoulders. “But it hurt me a lot back then, feeling rejected. That’s when this other guy started showing interest in me. He was my year… shoot, I can’t even remember his name now.” She chuckled to herself. “I guess time does heal everything.”
I smile at her. “And look, you’re able to laugh about it now.” I wondered when that time would come for me.
“Yeah, I guess so!” she laughed back. “Well, anyway, he was really assertive with his advances, and I was also in a vulnerable place. So, I started dating him. But then, it turned out that he was only using me for my body.”
I felt disgusted. No one deserves such humiliating treatment. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“Me, too. But you know, even painful events have a silver lining. Sakurai sempai taught me that.”
“Hm?” I tilt my head, intrigued.
“That guy was harassing me after class. He wanted me to go to a love hotel with him. I just thought things were moving way too fast, plus, my parents would’ve killed me if they had found out. Sakurai sempai spotted us and intervened.”
“What?”
“I still remember what sempai told him, word for word: ‘Women aren’t mere objects of a man’s fancy.’ It stuck with me. Gosh… I can remember all these details, but not the name of the douchebag. What’s wrong with me?” She laughed at herself.
“Women aren’t mere objects of a man’s fancy.”
The beautiful words echoed inside my mind and ricocheted like bullets through the heart.
“Oh, my god! Shun!! That was his name!” Maki exclaimed. “I knew that information was in there somewhere,” she said as she tapped her head.
…Wait.
Shun??
“Uh, y-you said his name was Shun?” I needed to make sure.
“Yeah, Kanemoto Shun. He was on the same soccer team as Sakurai sempai, but after that incident, he picked up bowling instead. I guess it got too awkward for him. A classmate who’s connected to him on Facebook told me he’s a vet now, but I don’t believe it. I used to pay for him every time we went on a date because he didn’t like to work. There’s no way he could pass vet school. What a filthy liar.” She shook her head in disapproval.
Oh, my god.
This is the same Shun.
Shocked and revolted, all I can do is keep myself from looking angry.
“I don’t like him.”
“Miss Juri deserves someone better.”
And here I was, thinking it was selfish of him to interrupt Shun’s date with Juri. I was filled with remorse for accusing him earlier.
“Goodness, I’m sorry! I totally blabbed on about myself,” Maki apologized. “Enough about me. How did you and Sakurai sempai meet?”
“U-Uh…” My mind was in overdrive from all the information it had just received. I was having a hard time stringing sentences together.
“Are you a photographer, too?” she asked.
“…Excuse me?”
“Have you seen his stuff? They’re breathtaking,” she said longingly. “I thought you were one of his colleagues.”
“O-Oh, uh… n-no.” Actually, he’s a nightclub host and I’m his client. There was no way I could say that.
“Oh. Well, if you haven’t seen his works, you’re missing out. He’s contracted with huge publications, and even has his own photobook.”
…What?
"I do this in my free time."
Isn’t that what you told me?
Maki sighed, but was smiling. “I don’t know how you got him, but you really are a lucky gal.”
I chuckled nervously.
“It’s no hyperbole when I say that he had women swarming around him to get a glimpse of him play, to be the first to give him presents after a match, to have the chance to be with him.” She started cleaning up the table. “But the legend goes, that he rejected every single confession of love for him. Even the prettiest, smartest, richest girls wouldn’t do.”
I watch her as she reminisced on younger days. She spoke so fondly of them and I could understand why. Where he is, the world becomes more vibrant and exciting, the same smells and sounds feel fresh and untainted, the mundane becomes extraordinary. It seemed he had that power on everyone in his life.
“But you,” she stopped her hands to look at me. “Clearly, there’s something special about you. You must be different. I must admit, I’m a bit jealous.”
I shook my head. “Really… I’m not that special. Very plain, actually.” I laugh awkwardly at myself. Even I couldn’t really understand why he wanted to spend time with me.
“Don’t talk like that, Kokoro-san.” Maki refused to hear it. “I need to believe there’s something special about you. Otherwise, I can’t come to terms with all this.”
The struggle in her eyes pained me.
“Kokoro-san.” Her expression was formal and solemn. “Please take good care of Sakurai sempai.” Maki turned her whole body toward me and bowed deeply, her hands on the tatami.
“M-Miss Maki, please… there’s no need for this.” I touch her arm and tell her to raise her head.
“I want to see sempai happy,” she looked into my eyes. “I think you can help him with that.”
Overwhelmed with her trust in me and the crushing responsibility of what she had revealed, all I could do was nod resolutely.
“You better come back here more often.” A man’s voice broke the silence.
“I will,” 34 replied.
“And bring her, too,” Mr. Isono poked his head into the room and pointed at me.
“Certainly.” 34 nodded and walked back into the room. He checked to see that I was done eating. “Are you ready to go?”
“Y-Yeah.” I get up and grab my purse. “What about the bill?” I remember suddenly.
“Mr. Sakurai has already taken care of it,” Mr. Isono bowed. “Your money is no good here.”
Grinning, 34 waited for me at the door. He made this sort of thing look effortless.
“Sakurai sempai!” Maki stood in front of him with a determined expression.
“Hm?” His voice was gentle and inviting.
“I like her,” she asserted.
“Me, too,” he repeated.
“And I’m so happy that you’re happy.” She then smiled to fight back the tears welling up in her eyes.
“You’re a good girl, Maki-chan,” he pat her on the shoulder. “It makes me happy that you’re happy, too.”
In that moment, I could see everything about their relationship. For Maki, it wasn’t merely feelings of longing and love; she respected and admired him. And 34, though still shrouded in mystery, was an honorable man who could make any woman feel like they were on top of the world, even those he had turned away. His magic was not exclusive; it affected everyone and everything around him.
I take a deep breath. It seemed the feelings I have for him fell short to hers. And yet, she congratulated us with dignity. Being in love with 34 was never a casual affair, but Maki reminded me that what I have is remarkable, that other women yearned to have what I have. I vow to commit to my feelings. Otherwise, I would be doing a disservice to her and the many others he had turned down over the years.
Mr. Isono opened the door for us to exit, and suddenly, we heard pounding rain.
“Oh, dear. Did you bring an umbrella, Mr. Sakurai?” he asked.
“Unfortunately, no,” 34 replied. I shook my head to signal that I didn’t bring one, either.
“One moment.” Mr. Isono rushed to the back of the izakaya, and came back with one umbrella. “This was left here by one of our customers a while back. I’m sure he’d appreciate it being put to good use.” He handed the umbrella to 34.
“Thank you, Mr. Isono,” 34 smiled and bowed.
“Please come back soon, Sakurai sempai!” Maki waved. “You too, Kokoro-san.” Her eyes were full of trust. I nodded once again, returning the gaze. I’ll do my best not to let you down.
Once outside and under the awning, he stuck his hand out toward me. “Let me see that,” he said, and took my purse.
“What are you doing?” I look up at him, bewildered.
He undid the parka on his hips and covered my purse with it. “It’s a nice purse. I don’t want it to get wet.” He gave a fleeting grin and held the parka close to his chest. “Come on.”
The rain hammered on the umbrella and I could barely see a few feet in front of me. He held it over us, but it was much too small for two people.
“Stand close,” he invited with his hand. “I’ll take you home.”
--
By the time we got off the train and walked back to my apartment, it was already past 11:00PM. The rain showed no sign of stopping, and it was getting a little chilly.
“Will you be okay from here?” He had walked me all the way to the entrance of my building. He folded the umbrella momentarily while we stood under the covering.
“Yes…” I nodded. For the amount of rain coming down, I stayed relatively dry, I thought. My booties were swimming in water and my bare legs were shining from the moisture, but other than that, the damage was minimal.
“Here.” 34 handed me my purse. It was completely dry and warm from his body heat.
“Thank you.” When I retrieved it, my hand accidentally grazed his. It felt very cold. “Oh, my gosh…” I noticed that his shirt was almost completely wet, drops of water dripping from his bangs and arms. His shoes were soggy, and his jeans had gotten a shade or two darker from soaking up the rain.
“Hm?” His voice was sweet and smooth, like honey.
“You’re soaked!” I stared at him, concerned.
“I’ll be all right,” he smiled gently. “Good night, Miss 33.”
“No, wait…” I stop him. “You should come inside and dry off.”
The corner of his mouth curled, and he set his trap. “Are you inviting me up to your room?”
My lips part, embarrassed. “N-No, I just thought you’d catch a cold…!” My futile attempt to explain myself was all in vain.
His smirk metamorphosed into a grin. “So, on the pretense of caring about me, you want to invite me up to your room?”
I was starting to feel warm from the blood rushing to my cheeks. “Forget it,” I sulked.
He shook the water from his head with his fingers. “You can’t take back an invitation. That’s rude.”
I can’t win.
I punch in the access code, and the elevator doors open to let us in.