Unexpected

1~

It was a quiet Wednesday afternoon, and the golden light of late spring slanted across the quiet streets of Tokyo. Takashi, dressed in a crisp white button-up with the sleeves casually rolled up, adjusted the strap of his designer messenger bag as he stepped out of the glossy black car that had dropped him off a few blocks away from his family's sprawling estate.

He could’ve stayed home—there was no urgent reason to be out. But the air was soft, and something about the silence of the house lately had felt... too big. Too empty. So he decided to go on a walk.

As he passed by the neighborhood bookstore—a small place tucked beside a bakery that always smelled faintly of strawberries and yeast—he noticed someone crouched near the alley, seemingly preoccupied with a cat.

Takashi slowed.

There, half-hidden in the shadows, was a boy with longish black hair, a soft hoodie, and thick black piercings that caught the light like tiny stars. He wasn’t trying to look cool—he just was.

Takashi tilted his head. That was Miyamura, wasn’t it?

He’d seen him before. Noticed him, actually, from across the classroom at school. Always quiet, always reading, but never quite blending in. And now here he was, squatting on the ground, letting a stray cat chew on his sleeve.

“You’re going to let it steal your sweater,” Takashi said lightly, his voice smooth, calm—like warm honey.

Miyamura looked up, blinking in surprise.

“Oh. Uh... it’s fine. She’s gentle.”

Takashi smiled and walked closer, the soles of his polished loafers making the faintest sound against the pavement. He crouched a few feet away and opened his bag.

“I have salmon jerky in here. Left over from lunch. Would she like some?”

Miyamura blinked again, as if unsure whether to laugh or believe him. “You carry salmon jerky in your bag?”

Takashi shrugged, his eyes soft. “My chef packs way too much food. I figured someone would want it.”

The cat perked up the moment Takashi opened the tiny bag and offered a piece. Miyamura watched, impressed, as the usually shy stray climbed right into Takashi’s lap without hesitation.

“She likes you,” Miyamura murmured.

Takashi looked up at him and smiled—genuine, open. “So do most people, eventually.”

There was no arrogance in his tone. Just a strange kind of innocence. Like someone who had grown up surrounded by velvet seats and marble floors but never quite learned how to build a real connection until now.

Miyamura leaned back slightly, arms resting on his knees. “You’re in our class, right? I didn’t think you remembered me.”

“Of course I do,” Takashi replied easily, his gaze steady. “You sit near the windows. You’re always reading things upside-down, like you’re testing your brain.”

Miyamura gave a soft laugh. “Caught me.”

“I’ve always wanted to talk to you,” Takashi added, brushing some cat fur off his slacks. “But school’s loud. And people keep assuming I’m stuck-up because I don’t say much.”

“You do give off ‘mysterious heir to an empire’ vibes,” Miyamura joked.

Takashi tilted his head thoughtfully. “I *am* the heir to an empire. But I like cats more than I like board meetings.”

That made Miyamura grin.

They sat there for a while, not saying much. Just letting the quiet afternoon stretch out. A soft breeze passed through, rustling the trees overhead. A woman walked by with a bag of groceries, pausing to smile at the two boys and the fluffy cat between them.

Eventually, Takashi stood up and dusted off his pants. He glanced down at Miyamura, who was still sitting on the ground with his hoodie sleeves rolled over his hands.

“I’m going to that bakery next door,” Takashi said. “Want something?”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

There was no hesitation in his tone. Just quiet certainty.

Miyamura looked up at him for a long second, then nodded. “I like strawberry tarts.”

Takashi gave a soft smile.

“Strawberry it is.”

He turned and walked toward the bakery, sunlight catching the soft gold of his watch. Miyamura watched him go, a strange flutter in his chest—like something unexpected had just started.

Something small.

And maybe... something warm.

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