It takes multiple alarms before I finally sit up and rub the sleepiness from my eyes. I try to comprehend why I’m waking up so early on a day I have no classes and suddenly remember my hectic work schedule during Golden Week. Checking the notifications on my phone, I find Shinjiro has messaged me for the first time since the day he left Tokyo a week ago. The entire past week has been peaceful and even kind of boring now that Shun is behaving himself. I’m not complaining.

After spending a little too much time trying to get out of bed, I just barely make it on time for my lunch shift. As I rush into the staff room, I accidentally bump shoulders with a girl on her way out.

“Sorry!” I exclaim, stopping to see who it is. She’s wearing the staff uniform, but I don’t recognize her.

“I’m so sorry!” Her ponytail flips when she bows.

Curious, I watch her approach my co-worker Yasuhiro before I meet eyes with him and remember I’m in a hurry.

Once changed, I step out of the staff room to find the girl standing behind the register while Yasuhiro lays the menu out in front of her. Taking another look at her round, young facial features and the way she carries herself gives me the impression she’s probably close to my age.

“Hey, Makoto,” Yasuhiro calls as I’m fetching a pad and pen.

He waves me over.

“This is Yuki. Today’s her first day,” Yasuhiro says. “Yuki, this is Makoto.”

“Hello,” she greets with a smile, dimples forming on her cheeks as she bows. “I’m Yuki Kato.”

“Makoto Takaya.” I bow back. Now that I get a proper look at her, she’s pretty cute.

Despite wanting to stay and chat longer, the door chiming compels me to turn around and take care of the elderly couple walking in.

The endless flow of customers keeps me occupied throughout the day, but Yuki and Yasuhiro still occasionally catch my attention. Yuki looks so enthusiastic with her bright eyes and permanent smile. My break is scheduled before theirs so I use it to fix the hair I’d neglected this morning. When it’s time for me to clock back in, I pass Yuki and Yasuhiro on their way into the staff room, smiling as if they just finished laughing over something.

“That guy who just walked in has a very, um, unique style,” I overhear Yuki say.

“Ah, yeah, he’s a regular,” Yasuhiro answers.

“Oh really? Does he always dress like that?”

“Sometimes. I heard he’s gay.”

Yuki gasps. “Really?”

I look toward the waiting area and, sure enough, Shun is sitting there. In addition to his choker, he’s wearing a pair of colorful checkered pants with yellow suspenders. Around his waist is a purple fanny pack. Normally his fashion taste doesn’t stray far from mine, but it’s definitely on another planet today.

He notices me approaching him with a menu.

“Hi,” he says nonchalantly

I can’t help but look directly at his flashy pants when he stands up.

He follows my gaze. “Is it too much?”

“It’s—” I pause and look back up at his expectant face. “Why are you asking me?” I mutter and turn to show him his table. I wait to hear him talk back or say he doesn’t really care what I think, but he doesn’t.

After taking Shun’s order, another rush of customers keeps me busy. Passing by his table a couple of times, I notice he’s sketching quietly again. It’s not until I bring his food that I catch a glimpse of a drawing of a female figure wearing a poofy pink dress. I’m tempted to ask about it, but quickly forget when I notice Yuki and Yasuhiro reemerging from the staff room. The two plant themselves behind the cash register.

I look for something to do as the lunch rush dies down. When one of the chefs calls Yasuhiro, he waves me down again, this time asking if I can watch over Yuki for a moment. I agree without hesitation.

As I round the counter, Yuki flashes me another smile. I return the gesture, taking Yasuhiro’s spot at the register. She’s small, standing at least 15 centimeters shorter than me.

“How is training so far?” I ask.

“I think it’s going okay,” she answers.

“That’s good. I actually just started here recently too,” I admit.

“Oh really?” She sounds more excited than I’d expected, her eyes twinkling. “I never would have guessed! You look so professional!”

“What? Me?” I feel a bit flustered. We’ve barely even said hello and she’s already complimenting me. I can’t say I don’t like it, though.

She nods enthusiastically. Charmed by her, I find myself automatically smiling back.

“Are you a student?” I ask.

“Yes,” she replies. “I just started my first year at MU.”

“I’m in my first year too!” I beam, pointing to myself.

“Really? So we’re the same age?” The way she hops in place with excitement makes me laugh. She’s like a wholesome little kid.

Our conversation is cut short when we notice Shun approaching.

“How did you enjoy your meal?” Yuki asks cheerfully as she takes the bill he hands her.

“It was good,” he replies in a much softer voice than hers.

I help her process the payment on the register while avoiding Shun’s gaze.

“Makoto.” Shun saying my name makes me anxious. “What time do you get off today?”

My mind is trying to register what he’s saying while panicking at the same time. Did he just ask me what time I get off in front of Yuki? Doesn’t he know how bad that sounds out of context? Especially now that she knows he’s gay! My eyes drift toward her and I find her looking between me and Shun curiously. What should I say?

“Sorry, Sir.” My voice cracks. “I don’t think I can answer that.”

It takes a second for Shun to react.

“Huh?” His face is blank.

“I’m sorry, I’m not interested,” I try, my heart racing as I consider how this could go horribly wrong.

He wrinkles his brow.

I glance at Yuki. She looks uneasy, forcing a smile while she slides the money tray toward Shun with his change. I can feel his glare bore into me while I try to focus on the computer screen. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch him sigh and shake his head while taking his coins.

“Would you like a receipt?” Yuki asks.

“Keep it.” Scowling, he turns his back to us and pushes the front door open.

“That was a bit rude,” Yuki pouts when the door shuts.

“Yeah, it was,” I say feebly.

“Do you think he was trying to hit on you?” Yuki muses, now looking up at me.

I bite my lip, trying to suppress an awful feeling building up inside.

“M-maybe. I don’t know.”

“Hmm.” She purses her lips.

Yasuhiro returns and tells me I can go bus my table now. I head to where Shun was sitting and place his used dishes on a tray. After wiping the table down, I check under it and notice what looks like a piece of paper. I flip it over to find a drawing of a boy with a neutral expression as his hair appears to be blowing in the wind.

While carrying the tray to the kitchen, I witness Yasuhiro telling Yuki she can clock out. I’m a bit disappointed I couldn’t talk with her more but manage to say goodbye to her on her way out.

When I finish up my shift, I carefully slip Shun’s drawing in between the pages of a notebook before getting changed.

Thinking back to what I said to him earlier gives me a bad taste in my mouth. That was a really shitty thing for me to do. I know I should apologize as soon as I get home, but what kind of excuse can I give for saying that? I can’t just tell him I’m embarrassed by him. He’d be pissed.

As the sky begins to sprinkle rain, I speed-walk home, hugging my backpack to my chest in an effort to keep it dry.

With a stomach growling in agony, I go straight to the fridge to fish out leftover pizza. Just as the microwave beeps, Shun walks into the kitchen in pajamas. When our eyes meet, he instantly frowns and makes a 180-degree turn.

“Wait!” I call out to him.

He stops, still facing away.

“I’m really sorry about today,” I try, my mind scrambling to find a good excuse that I couldn’t come up with on my way home.

“Why did you do that?” he asks dauntingly, spinning back around to face me.

“W-well,” I stammer. ‘Because I really thought you were trying to ask me out.’ No. ‘I was trying to be funny, but it didn’t work.’ No.

“Are you really that desperate to impress a girl?” he accuses.

“Huh?” I utter reflexively.

Does he think I would say something like that just because of Yuki? How poor is his image of me? I only did that because I was trying to impress— Wait a minute.

“I didn’t think you would stoop so low,” he adds with a glower.

“What? You think I’m the one stooping low? What do you call what you did with the cockroach?” I snap back. “Did you already forget all the petty things you did to me before?”

He crosses his arms. “I thought you were the one who wanted to forget and move on. So it doesn’t matter if you’re still a jerk?”

I feel my blood begin to boil, but I can’t say exactly why. Is it anger toward him for calling me a jerk? Or is it frustration toward myself for not being able to say he’s wrong?

“It’s because you’re embarrassing!” I blurt out.

Shun goes silent but continues to glare at me. However, it’s somehow different from the glare I’m used to seeing on him. It makes me feel guilty for some reason. I press my lips together firmly, unsure of what to say next.

“What did I do that embarrassed you so much?” His eyes narrow as he steps toward me.

“Uh,” I stutter, trying to back up, but I run into the table.

“Are you embarrassed just knowing me?” he asks, coming even closer.

I grab onto the edge of the table when he uses his hand to push me backward forcefully, his looming face getting closer and closer. My anger is overwritten with panic as I quickly slide away from him and round the table to the opposite side where my backpack sits on a chair. Seeing it reminds me of the drawing. I’m instantly relieved to have a subject changer.

“Look, I’m really sorry,” I apologize, anxiously unzipping my bag. “This time was my bad. I won’t do it again.”

“You think I’d even bother talking to you at Yumeya again? I don’t want to be associated with you, either,” he scoffs and turns to walk away.

This is bad. At this rate, I’ll be looking at another war with Shun.

“By the way!” I call out before he can leave. “You left your drawing at—”

I lose my words when I hear a loud tearing noise coming from my backpack. I look down and find the hands that had been desperately trying to save my ass got a little too hasty while slipping the drawing out of my notebook.

Shun’s bulging eyes fix on the tragedy in my hands.

“Uh,” I stammer and carefully open the notebook to expose the other half of the drawing. It ripped completely down the middle, splitting the perfectly drawn boy’s face in half. My hands tremble harder than ever as I place the two pieces onto the kitchen table. Well, I’m fucked.

I wait for Shun to blow up, but instead, he silently approaches the table and reaches out for the papers, his face void of emotion. Is he in shock?

“I’m so sorry,” I manage to say, my voice coming out small and pitiful.

He closes his eyes and shakes his head before turning around and leaving the kitchen.

I stare down at the lines in the wooden table.

Everything. Just everything I did today was stupid. I feel deserving of the taunting guilt that weighs on my chest. Maybe Shun isn’t wrong about me being a lowlife.

I stand and wallow in shame for a moment longer before taking a deep breath and entering the hallway. As soon as I turn the corner, a piece of paper on the floor catches my eye. I know right away it’s half of the drawing I’d just ripped. Shun dropped it again? I pick it up and sigh as I take another look at the boy with flowing hair. He now looks sad with half his face gone. I wonder if there’s even a point in returning him to Shun again. He took the other half with him, so I suppose I should.

As I near the end of the hallway, I crouch in front of Shun’s door and place the drawing face down, about to slide it through the crack. That’s when I notice for the first time what looks like tiny writing in black ink at the very bottom of the blank side. I pick it back up and squint my eyes at what remains of the letters.

abe & Shun
my dreams...

Whatever it was supposed to say, I can only read half. I wonder what the rest of it was. “Abe” must be the last three letters of someone’s name.

I drop the thought and push the paper under the door before returning to my room.

I sit at the foot of my bed, staring at the swaying feathers of the dreamcatcher hanging on the inside of my door. Why did I let it in? I never should have let it in.

I hear a knock and walk over, slowly turning the knob. The door forces itself open and Shun barges in, his face a mask of anger. I back away from him, startled as he pushes my chest with his hand.

“You asshole!” His voice climbs as he closes the distance. “You know how much time I spent on that drawing?!”

“I-I’m sorry. I’m really sorry,” I whimper.

“’Sorry?’ You think ‘sorry’ is enough?” he shouts, each word punctuated by a shove to my chest.

I want to look away, but my eyes are glued to his face. The back of my knees hit the bed frame and buckle. I’m falling and before I can register what’s happening, he’s above me with his face hovering over mine. He raises a hand, but before I can even flinch, it lands softly on my cheek. I freeze. He’s suddenly close enough now for our noses to almost touch.

“How about I give you a real reason to be embarrassed?” he whispers, his lips approaching mine.

I startle awake, my heart beating frantically in my chest. I sit up and look at the door. The dreamcatcher is gone and Shun is too. The light above my head is on and I’m still wearing the clothes from the previous day. I must have fallen asleep after coming back. Unfortunately, the memory of ripping Shun’s drawing is still clear and real.

“Fuck,” I curse as I let out a sigh of relief. What a fucking nightmare. I lift my hand to my chest to feel my frantic heartbeat still trying to recover. How am I going to sleep again after that?