YURI KOI
The first thing he said made my chest tighten: he had seen his father die right in front of him. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I could feel the depth of his pain.
The same thing had happened to me. I had lost my mother at a young age. I had no real memories of her, but I knew she had made my father the happiest man in the world.
Sai's hands gently cupped the sides of my face, brushing away my tears just as I had done for him moments before.
"I'm sorry for crying, and… thank you," I whispered, my voice barely audible.
At that precise moment, the bell rang.
"Please, open the door—I'm going upstairs to grab my wallet," I said as I walked toward the stairs.
I went to my room, rifled through my bag, and pulled out my wallet. "I'm here," I called down, but the delivery had already left.
"You want to sit here or at the table?" he asked.
"Where's the delivery man?" I asked, puzzled.
"I took the food, and he left. What do you mean?" he replied.
"You paid for the food?"
"Of course I did," he said calmly.
I immediately pulled out some cash from my wallet.
"I don't want it," he said.
"Please, just accept this—I've already ruined the night by bringing you he—" I started, but before I could finish, his right hand pressed gently but firmly over my mouth, stopping me mid-sentence. His left hand cupped the back of my head, tilting it slightly so our faces almost touched.
A silence filled the room, heavy but comforting. He stared at me with his jet-black eyes, his voice serious.
"First, you didn't ruin the night. If I had a hundred options, I would have chosen this one—the one we have now. Second, I know this isn't a date, but I'm the man, so I will treat you the way you deserve to be treated."
I froze. I had never seen him so serious. In that moment, I realized I had been wrong about him—he had grown, matured from the boy I once knew.
I gently took his hand from my mouth, and my eyes caught the scar along his wrist. I studied his face, every detail, feeling closer to him than ever before.
"That scar on your hand…" I said softly.
"Do you remember?" he asked, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"Of course. I caused it… it's not something I'm proud of," I admitted.
He placed his hand gently on my cheek. "I know you didn't mean it. It was just an accident."
"I'm sorry. But I still feel guilty. So many years have passed, and you still carry that scar," I said, sadness lacing my voice.
"Please… forget it," he said calmly, sliding his hand to my waist.
We held each other's gaze for a long, silent minute.
I wrapped my hands around his head, and our faces drew closer, eyes locked. "Please… do it," I whispered.
Our eyes closed, and we kissed—slowly, deeply, letting the years of distance and unspoken feelings dissolve between us.
In that moment, I knew the distance that had kept us apart for so long had finally ended. Thoughts of somewhere far away, somewhere just for the two of us, drifted through my mind—but that could wait. This moment, right here, was what mattered.
After some time, we pulled apart slightly.
"I think… that's enough," he said softly, still holding me in his arms. I was overwhelmed, speechless, swept up in the tide of emotions we shared.
"Are you okay?" he asked, concern flickering in his voice.
I didn't answer. I couldn't.
Finally, he let me go and said, "We should eat."