I laughed. A real laugh, not the polite one I used at work.
He smiled. It wasn’t a perfect smile. His canine tooth was slightly crooked. But it was real.
“It’s 2 AM. The only appropriate time for pudding is ‘when the soul is empty.’” soredemo ashita kareshi
I sat on the edge of my bed, phone in hand, and thought about my 30-day pact. No romance. No crushes. No staring.
“Insanity,” he repeated, testing the word. “Maybe. But sometimes walking is the only way to prove to yourself that you’re still moving forward.” I laughed
I typed back: “Meet me at the same Lawson. 7 PM. Bring the pudding. I’ll bring spoons.”
I told him. The ex. The soggy onigiri. The 30-day pact. The rule about not imagining wedding scenes with strangers. It wasn’t a perfect smile
But this wasn’t a romance. This was a boy with a broken bike and a stolen pudding cup.