The morning sun crept stubbornly through the slits of the half-drawn curtains, casting pale golden streaks across the mess of discarded clothes on the floor. A bra dangled lazily from the edge of a chair, jeans half-inside-out slumped nearby. The bedroom carried the stale scent of last night's drinks, sweat, and impulsive pleasure.
Hasegawa stirred, his head throbbing as though someone was rhythmically pounding a drum inside his skull. He groaned, lifting an arm to shield his eyes from the light, then turned slightly to the side.
The woman beside him was still asleep, her bare shoulder peeking from beneath the thick blanket, her dark hair spread like a fan against the pillow.
It took him a few moments, but he remembered. The bar, the music, her laughter, and her hand trailing down his arm while she told him she hated drinking alone. He hadn't planned on anything, yet here she was.
With a quiet grunt, Hasegawa sat up, ran a hand through his messy hair, and shuffled toward the bathroom. His steps were heavy, each one echoing the weight of his hangover and the thought that had been gnawing at him for nearly two weeks.
The proposal.
In the steamy confines of the shower, he let the hot water pelt his skin, hoping it would wash away not just the haze in his head, but the restlessness buried in his chest.
His mother's voice echoed in his mind, far too clear for comfort. "Have you met anyone lately? Anyone special?"
He had smiled at her question that day. Played it off with a vague "we'll see."
But here he was. Showering off a one-night stand, trying not to think about the little velvet box sitting on his nightstand.
Hasegawa sighed and let the water hit his skin with a rush, steam curling upward as he leaned a hand against the tile wall. For a moment, he closed his eyes.
And his mind pulled him back… to last Friday.
The cafeteria buzzed with lunchtime chatter, trays clinking and chairs scraping against the floor. Hasegawa sat across from Kitagawa-san and Makoto, their bento boxes already halfway emptied.
Makoto dabbed at her lips with a napkin. "By the way, I just found out who our new Logistics Deputy Manager is."
Kitagawa-san tilted his head. "Ooh? You've met him?"
Makoto shook her head. "Nope. Maeda-san told me his name but wouldn't show me a photo. She said it'd be better to see him in person."
Hasegawa looked up from his food. "So, what's his name?"
"Morikita Daichi."
The name landed with a thud in his chest. The grip on his chopsticks faltered, and his gaze went blank.
Kitagawa-san blinked. "Morikita… hmm… doesn't ring a bell."
Makoto nodded excitedly. "I know, right? But Maeda-san said he's got this intimidating aura. Still, apparently he's good-looking too. The girls in our section are already placing bets on whether he's single."
"Classic," Kitagawa-san snorted.
Hasegawa didn't laugh, didn't speak. His thoughts had frozen in place.
Morikita Daichi… That name. It couldn't be a coincidence. Could it really be him?
The sound of running water blurred the edge of the memory as Hasegawa stood motionless under the shower.
When he returned to the bedroom, towel slung around his waist, the woman had stirred. She sat up with the blanket clutched loosely to her chest, blinking slowly as she held the small ring box in her hand, clearly something she had fished from the nightstand out of curiosity.
"Well, well…," she said with a low chuckle, voice husky with sleep. "Were you planning to propose to someone?"
Hasegawa let out a short laugh and walked slowly toward the bed, rubbing the towel over his damp hair.
"We don't even know each other's names," he said casually, the corner of his mouth lifting. "And you're already poking around my private stuff?"
The woman smirked, unfazed. She tilted her head, and her gaze slid over him with lazy appreciation.
"Hmm… well," she said, her tone dipped in playfulness, "we didn't know each other last night either, but that didn't stop us from having sex like lovers who missed each other for years."
He laughed under his breath and dropped the towel onto the nearby chair, his bare skin still glistening slightly from the shower.
"True enough," he said as he leaned down toward her, voice low and teasing. "So, you up for another round?"
She placed the ring box gently on the nightstand, her lips curving into a satisfied smile. "I'd be a fool to say no to a man who looks like you."
Just as Hasegawa brushed his fingers over her shoulder and lowered himself beside her, his phone buzzed against the nightstand.
The screen lit up with a new message from Sora, but he didn't spare it a glance.