Work Text:
Monday, Sendai Station.
You saw him for the very first time that evening.
The low rumble of the train’s engine alerted you of its arrival as your hurried footsteps echoed through the tiled floors. The moment you took the first step on the escalator, you sped up the process of your descent by walking down the steps like one would on a flight of stairs. Luckily, you crossed the platform just in time before the train doors beeped close. The overtime at work had drained all of your energy and enthusiasm that you couldn’t help but let out an exhausted sigh. At least, the rush hour was over; it was not as crowded.
The train sped away while you scanned its interior to find the best place to take a seat. Slow and steady, you walked through the compartment and passed by numerous people who occupied the green benches. An affectionate young couple huddled close despite the abundance of space, hands intertwined. Across them, a man in formal suit typed away on his phone, eyebrows etched together in a serious frown. Beyond the compartment, an old woman sat with her eyes closed and a wooden cane balanced upright against her palms. You walked until you reached the last section of the area, where a lone man occupied the middle of the long bench, an open book in his hand obscuring his face.
You settled on the end of that seat and placed your bag right beside you. The instant you looked up, you met the man’s eyes by accident, when his head had tilted slightly away from his reading. You gathered that the movements you made as you sat down probably distracted him. Still, it unnerved you; how beautiful his eyes were. They were unique, even from themselves, and despite being partially hidden by the glasses he wore, you knew for sure that they were beautiful. He reached to adjust his black frames, closed his book, and placed it inside his bag. Slowly, he moved away. Further… and further… until he was on the opposite end of the seat.
You didn’t really mind.
A series of advertisements played on the screens installed near the roof of the compartment. You leaned your head on the window and watched each one of them, the repetitive droll drowning the embarrassment you felt at the awkward encounter with the man who sat a few feet away. It was fine. He was just a stranger you happened to cross paths with in one of your daily train rides. It was not as if you would see him again, anyway.
Nine minutes passed by in a blur. The train arrived at Aobayama Station.
Both you and the man with beautiful eyes stood at the same time when the train came to a halt. He was right behind you while you waited for the doors to open, until you reached the exit of the station.
Although homebound, you couldn’t help but turn around and glance at him, his pace quick as he walked towards the opposite direction.
Tuesday, Sendai Station.
The late afternoon train ride proved you wrong about yesterday.
Work ended on time, which you were grateful for. You walked along the path that led to the platform as usual, shuffling inside your bag for your phone and earphones without a worry. If you had them on, you would lessen any chance of awkward encounters, you thought. And that was, until a force knocked you off your feet.
“I am so sorry!” you were quick to apologize to the man you bumped into. You watched in mild horror as the contents of his bag spilled out into the open as people sped past the two of you. Immediately, you straightened up and helped him pick his belongings that were scattered on the floor. The first thing you got was a pencil case in the likeness of a green oriental dragon, the other one a book with a sticky note on the cover.
Dear Tojirou,
You need this in your life. Happy birthday!
The best cousin ever,
Togoro
P.S. You’re welcome!
Right above the sticky note, in bold letters, was its title, Lover’s Guide.
“It was a gift,” he said and plucked the book away from your hand. You looked up and saw him, the man from yesterday—the man with beautiful eyes—his cheeks tinted red as he clutched the Lover’s Guide and quickly hid it in his bag.
Tojirou—that was his name.
You raised the pencil case in your hand, “The book or this one?”
“Both,” he replied.
Who would have thought you would see him again? That was a little strange. What if the book he had yesterday was another edition of the Lover’s Guide? You hummed and stifled a laugh at the absurdity of the thought—probably not. With those thoughts cast aside, you reached out and handed him the dragon pencil case, “I see. Happy birthday, then.”
“...Thanks.” He received it with a ghost of a smile on his lips, one that you weren’t sure of whether you imagined or not.
You walked right behind him on the way to the platform. His type of clothing radiated refinement and professionalism that you wondered what he did for a living. His pace was rather quick, soon enough you lost him in the crowd.
Some passengers were already standing the moment you boarded the train. You decided to do the same by the closed doors, where your fingers closed on the handrail as the vehicle sped away. Not a minute passed, you felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to see the same man you bumped into, Tojirou. You removed your earphones and looked at him in silent question.
He pointed to an unoccupied seat not far away from where the two of you stood, “Please take a seat there.”
Your cheeks burned at the realization that he must have given up his seat for you. You didn’t know why he was going out of his way to do so, but it was nice of him, you had to admit. “Thanks.”
Nine minutes passed by in a blur. The train arrived at Aobayama Station.
You walked to the door and stood right behind him when the train came to a halt. His tall frame filled your sight while you waited for the doors to open, until you reached the exit of the station.
Although homebound, you couldn’t help but turn around and glance at him, his pace quick as he walked towards the opposite direction.
Wednesday, Sendai Station.
Tojirou stood on the corner of the train’s compartment, a companion by his side.
It was someone you had never come across before. A man who donned a red button-up shirt stood there with a smile, chatting animatedly, while Tojirou listened and nodded with a stoic expression on his face. It was quite a contrast, but in more ways than one, the two of them resembled each other. It led you to believe they were probably brothers or cousins and an amusing thought came after; maybe the other one was Togoro, the person who gifted the Lover’s Guide.
In a strange turn of events, the man in red turned his face towards you, a joyous curve still etched on his lips. He grabbed the unsuspecting Tojirou on the wrist and then raised it as if Tojirou was waving at your direction. The man in red's eyes twinkled with laughter. Tojirou was quick to snatch his hand away and turned to reprimand his companion. You shifted your gaze to the bag on your lap and fiddled with the zunda mochi keychain hanging from the zipper in order to hide a light chuckle.
You heard a giggle right beside you. A highschool girl waved back at Tojirou and his companion, your shoulders brushing with hers as she did so.
Nine minutes passed by in a blur. The train arrived at Aobayama Station.
You walked to the door and stood behind the two men when the train came to a halt. Their broad shoulders filled your sight while you waited for the doors to open, until you reached the exit of the station.
Although homebound, you couldn’t help but turn around to glance at him, his companion’s arm around his shoulder, the both of them walking towards the opposite direction.
Thursday, Sendai Station.
You were stuck right in the middle of the train.
In front of you, Tojirou stood, his situation very similar to yours.
You tried your best to reach one of the hanging straps or maybe a stanchion, but right where you were, all of them were so close, yet so far. The train doors closed and the vehicle moved to depart. Unused to the sudden momentum, your body swayed backwards and then fell forwards, to him—to Tojirou. The tip of your nose brushed his chest, the scent he wore invading your senses. His reflex reaction was to steady you with a hand on your arm, which he let go in a split second.
“I am so sorry!” You tried to step away and from your peripheral vision, you saw him lean back to put some space between your bodies. Only, there was nowhere to go.
Your head, shoulders, and back kept on being jostled by the people surrounding you. Your knees shook with the struggle to keep your balance in tune with the train’s motion. To top it all off, you were standing so close to Tojirou that you could look everywhere but him; a hundred percent certain that your face was beet red in embarrassment or something else.
As the train made its first out of five stops at Aoba-dōri Ichibanchō Station, you felt your body go out of balance and fall sideways but strong fingers held you in place. “Hold on,” Tojirou said and looked the other way.
Despite the initial hesitation, you did. You shyly wrapped your fingers around his arm, his own still placed under your elbow. Your eyes zeroed on the dragon cufflinks that adorned the sleeves of his white button-up shirt. “What is it with him and dragons?” you wondered, but didn’t dare ask out loud.
Nine minutes passed by in a blur. The train arrived at Aobayama Station.
You let go and gave him a slight bow. “I am so sorry… again. Thank you.”
“…Yeah.”
You smiled. He really was a man of a few words.
You stood right beside him when the train came to a halt. Your sleeves brushed together while you waited for the doors to open, until you reached the exit of the station.
Although homebound, you couldn’t help but turn around and glance at him, his pace a little bit slower as he walked towards the opposite direction.
Friday, Sendai Station.
The sky was dark and gloomy the moment you entered the station.
The hustle and bustle of the rush hour synchronized with your hurried footsteps as you navigated through the crowd and squeezed inside the train. You found a spot with a considerable amount of space to make sure that the situation yesterday would not have any sort of repeat today. Soon enough, it departed and with a relieved sigh, you realized something.
He wasn’t here.
You settled on watching the advertisements that played on and on, your nails tapping on the hanging strap rhythmically as you did so.
Nine minutes passed by ever so slowly. The train arrived at Aobayama Station.
Upon exiting the platform, a female voice in the intercom welcomed the passengers who alighted with announcements and more advertisements. You took the escalator twice. They led to the long wide path which mirrored the one in Sendai Station, where you had bumped into him last Tuesday. You took your transportation card from your wallet and scanned it, and then took a series of three more escalators, all of them suited to fit one person per step.
The scent of fresh rainfall hitting the ground welcomed you upon reaching the exit. You shuffled around your bag only to be disappointed that, on the day you needed it the most, you did not have an umbrella. Tired, you were stuck in Aobayama Station until the rain would stop, which from the sound of it, was not anytime soon. The fact that there was nothing you could do dampened your mood completely. You crouched down and buried your face on your knees, right beside the pavement, under the eaves of the small exterior of the station and waited for the rain to abate.
“You’re gonna get sick if you keep sitting down there.”
You raised your head and saw Tojirou, a dark green umbrella protecting him from the rain. “Oh, it’s you.”
So he was there, after all.
He offered you a hand. “Come on… I’ll walk you home.”
You took it. Together, you left Aobayama Station.
The sudden downpour made the sky darker at this time of the evening. Distorted reflections of passing cars and street lights filled the puddles on the road. Even though the both of you were huddled under the same umbrella, he tried his best to be as far as he could be, trying to create a respectful distance. You didn’t really mind. He matched the pace of your steps and him helping you go home in this dreary weather was more than enough. The simultaneous pitter-patter of every droplet over your heads filled the silence that stretched between the two of you. It was an odd sense of calmness, so different from all the sounds that surrounded you whenever you took the train.
Time passed by in a blur. He dropped you off at the lobby of the condominium you lived in.
You bowed your head in gratitude, “Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome,” he said with a smile—a genuine smile—and turned around to leave. You looked beyond the doors and saw how the heavy rainfall trickled on and on against the glass, the only thing visible the hazy lights and pitch black sky.
Before you knew it, you had walked briskly after him. “Wait,” you called out.
He had opened his umbrella once again, about to leave, when he heard your voice and turned around in question, “What is it?”
His dark tousled hair had become mussed up, damp. The same with the sides of his sleeves, which had gone a little bit see-through. His eyes, so beautiful that they caught you off-guard for what it seemed like the hundredth time, were wide in mild shock and confusion.
After a few more moments of silence, you finally gathered enough courage and said, “It’s still raining.”
“...Yeah.”
“Do you… wanna come up for some coffee?”