AUTHOR'S NOTE:

okay, for some reason wattpad's formatting isn't working on my phone, so we're stuck with one style of writing— on the side, as opposed to the center. idk if that makes sense, but you'll notice it in this chapter.

anyway, lots of love.

enjoy.

i'm on holiday and i still managed to update. can you see how much ily guys?

"SO, YOU WANT ME TO go persuade the guy running the convenience store—a total stranger to me, mind you—to be the boys' coach?" Naoki sat in his chair, one leg folded over his knee, a pencil held between two fingers as he stared at Ittetsu Takeda. The older man had all but barged into his office (the infirmary room), hands clasped and almost falling to his knees as he begged Naoki to help him out.

"Yes." Takeda nodded his head.

"You do understand how insane this sounds, right?"

"Yes," Takeda repeated. There was confidence shining in his eyes, a determined fire that Naoki could see behind his glasses. "I'm aware that it's a bit unconventional, but desperate times call for desperate measures! The boys need a coach. And you are the only one I know who can sweet-talk Ukai-san into helping them."

Naoki arched a brow. "Sweet-talk? More like plead and beg, right?"

"Whatever gets him on board!" Takeda's face lit up again, more vibrant than before. He leaned forward from where he stood, placing his hands against the top of Naoki's messy desk with an audible clink. "Please, Naoki-san. They are good boys, you know this— they deserve someone who knows what he's doing and can help them achieve the heights they are destined to reach."

Naoki hummed and leaned back in his seat, twiddling the pencil between his fingers. "Should I sell my body if he asks?"

Takeda's head shot up, eyes wide with horror.

"Naoki-san!"

"Kidding, kidding," Naoki waved off. He thought about it, tilting his head to the side and weighing the pros and cons. On the one hand, talking to a stranger was taxing, and he would rather not deal with that today. But, on the other hand, Takeda was right. The boys needed a coach. Someone who could guide them and motivate them. And Naoki was nothing if not a team player. He sighed, looking down at the mess of papers littering his desk. "Fine, I'll do it. I'll go once the school day ends."

Takeda looked like he was going to kiss his shoes.

"Thank you, Naoki-san." He smiled so sweetly, ever the kind man. "This means a lot."

"It's no problem, Ittetsu-san," Naoki replied. "But I can't promise anything. I may be good at sweet-talking, but I'm not that good. Kami-sama knows that if I were, I'd be living a life rent-free."

Takeda didn't seem to agree. He shook his head. "I'm sure you can do it. We're relying on you!" He left the room soon after, the school bell ringing and announcing that class was about to begin. Naoki watched him go with a frown.

He turned to his desk, shoulders slumping.

"Great, no pressure at all," he drawled sarcastically, slipping the pencil into his hair and letting it rest against the gap between his skull and ear. "Just me, a store owner, and the future of the boys' volleyball team hanging in the balance. What could possibly go wrong?"

Naoki didn't want to begin thinking about it.

With classes now underway, Naoki used the reprieve to satiate his hunger. His students usually piled in when they were on their breaks, but everyone knew when his lunch schedule was. Teenagers could be considerate, you know? Nobody came to him during this time, not unless it was urgent. That left him alone, and in his solitude, he took out his lunch box and began to munch away, pushing up his sleeves to see if his soulmate wrote anything.

𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬?

𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰?

Naoki smiled at the familiar handwriting, tracing over it fondly.  It was nice to have a few moments to himself every now and then. Not many people cared enough to write to him, and most days, Naoki didn't care enough to try writing back. Writing was just another thing that required work. And Naoki had always been lazy. But writing on his skin? That was easy— that was second nature. Easy as breathing.

He reached for the pen beside his computer, clicking on the top and pressing the tip onto his skin. The ink bled through easily.

𝓎𝑒𝓈, 𝒾 𝒶𝓂.

𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨?

𝒻𝑜𝑜𝒹.

𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵. 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥?

𝓎𝓊𝓂𝓂𝓎 𝒻𝑜𝑜𝒹.

𝘫𝘦𝘳𝘬.

Naoki laughed as he bit into his sandwich. His soulmate was always quick to respond with drawings of angry faces and crude symbols, and while they weren't the best drawings (there were some really bad ones, including a cartoon of a cat swallowing a mouse), he still found them charming. The colours were vibrant, the lines precise, and the curves of the letters of his words filled Naoki's vision with warmth.

He couldn't wait to meet his soulmate.

He had a feeling he was wonderful.

𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽.

Time passed by quickly, and the bell for the next class rang. Naoki put his lunch away and tugged down his sleeves, hiding the ink sprawled across his arm. His wrist tingled faintly, like a small shock ran down his limb, and a tiny smile played across his lips as he returned his attention to the piles of paperwork on his desk.

He grabbed the pencil on his ear and started to work.

• ════════════ •

"Well, this is a surprise," hummed Naoki as the door to the infirmary was slid open. His eyes fell onto the familiar tall figure of one of his students. "How can I help you, Asahi-kun?"

"I'm being followed," was all he said.

Naoki stopped what he was doing. "What?"

Concern propagated across Naoki's face as Asahi seemed to tremble, eyes darting to the door every other second.

"Asahi-kun, what's going on?"

Naoki's tone left no room for questions, which wasn't a big surprise given his profound care for his students, but the boy seemed oblivious to that. Instead, the younger man spoke fast, his words slurring together, each syllable sounding more like an incoherent ramble. Naoki's eyes narrowed. That didn't sound like Asahi at all.

"There's these two first-years that keep following me around. When I'm in class, when I'm walking through the halls— I even saw one of them in the toilets! He followed me in!"

Naoki's hand clenched into a ball, his lips pressed together firmly. He had dealt with his fair share of stalkers in his life— Naoki wouldn't lie and say he wasn't attractive. He was handsome; that much was true. People gawked at him wherever he went, their greedy eyes lingering on his body and giving him the creeps.

When he was in high school, a few lovesick classmates would, more often than not, overstep and approach him in private. Naoki never allowed them to get closer, always putting a stop to it, but he remembered the feeling of constantly being watched. It was disgusting, almost frightening, especially when he realised they had been following him home. That's why Naoki was going to put a stop to this. He was not going to let Asahi go through what he had.

"He's got really bright orange hair, so it's hard not to miss him, but it really freaks me out, Naoki-sensei! They won't leave me alone!"

The words processed in Naoki's head, shaking the fury that was momentarily clouding his vision. He blinked, uncurling his fist.

"Asahi-san," he started carefully. "Do you know their names?"

"Vaugly. One of them's called yama-something."

"Kageyama?" Naoki offered.

Asahi's eyes widened. He nodded sharply. "Yes."

Naoki let out a heavy sigh, falling back into his chair, his concern turning into relief. "Kageyama-kun and Hinata-kun are on the volleyball team," he explained. "I'm guessing they're following you around because they found out you were the team's Ace last year."

"They won't stop pestering me," Asahi supplied. "I've told them I wasn't going to return, but they..." He trailed off his sentence, unsure.

"They can't fathom how someone would willingly give up volleyball. Honestly, it's like that's the only thing they think about. No wonder their grades suck." Naoki turned to the third-year student. "I'll speak to them. Even if they're passionate about you re-joining, they should know that this crosses boundaries."

Asahi sighed in relief. "Thank you, sensei."

"Don't worry about it." Naoki's expression softened, his tone gentler. He gave the other male a reassuring smile. "They're idiots, but they mean well."

Asahi didn't say anything; he just shrugged his shoulders. Naoki's eyes racked over his body, looking for anything out of place. Asahi looked like he had run all the way here, sweat clinging to his forehead. His bag was hanging loosely from his shoulder, and there was something off about the look in his dark brown eyes.

And then everything clicked.

Asahi wasn't afraid of his underclassmen following him. He was afraid of something else. Something much larger.

His gaze sharpened as he met his student's eyes, brows furrowing in contemplation. "You know, for the sheer size of you, you sure are jumpy." Naoki thought back to the drawing on his skin. "Like how elephants are afraid of mice."

Asahi blinked in surprise, taken aback by the abrupt change in conversation.

"Are you calling me fat, Naoki-sensei?"

"Do you think you're fat?"

"Um, no?"

"Then why would I be calling you fat?" Naoki raised his eyebrows and tapped his fingers against his desk. He watched closely as Asahi looked at him sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I dunno."

"Elephants are resilient creatures," Naoki pointed out. "Did you know they hardly ever forget things? Their temporal lobe—the area of the brain associated with memory—is larger and denser than that of people. It's how they're able to other elephants, humans, too."

Asahi made a face. "I didn't know that."

"And did you know they're sensitive? Because of their ability to remember things clearly, they oftentimes show signs of PTSD-related symptoms if they have suffered."

Asahi flinched.

There it was. In plain sight.

Naoki could tell by the way Asahi's shoulders drooped, by the way his eyes dropped to the ground, and by the way that he was shifting uncomfortably under his weight as he stood that he had hit the nail on the head.

"I don't know what happened between you and Nishinoya-kun, but I'm guessing it has something to do with volleyball." Naoki stared at his student's face, taking note of the way he wouldn't meet his gaze. He was embarrassed, ashamed about something that had happened. Naoki wasn't supervising the team last year—he only started this year—so he only heard things here and there from his students about the drama. "You guys are best friends. Whatever it is that's bothering you, just talk to him about it."

"He won't want to," Asahi mumbled dejectedly. "He hates me now."

"Really? Then why does he come to me and complain about your absence?"

Asahi's eyes snapped towards Naoki, searching for honesty behind his words. When he found it, shining clearly in Naoki's eyes, he ducked his head again, shoulders trembling lightly.

"Nishinoya doesn't hate you, Asahi-kun," Naoki reassured, slowing his words to get his message across. "You don't think I haven't noticed how happy he looks whenever he's near you? Or how proud he gets when your name is brought up? He's just upset right now. That isn't necessarily a bad thing. You just need to talk, that's all. Everything will sort itself out after that."

"It's...hard."

"Of course, it is. Nothing worth doing is easy."

The gentle hum of spring air filled the silence, filling the empty space as Asahi shifted on his feet. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn't. Or perhaps he couldn't. Whatever was going on in his mind was stuck in his throat, like a cherry pit he couldn't swallow no matter how hard he tried.

Asahi let out a shakey breath, running his hand across the curve of his head. 

He was scared, Naoki knew, and he wished that he could reassure his student. But Naoki wasn't the one that he should be talking to. He could only offer advice, nothing more.

He rose from his seat, crossing the room to stand in front of the alarmingly taller boy. "Hey," a gentle hand landed upon Asahi's shoulder. "You're going to be fine. The past is the past. There's no use for it in the present."

"I want to play again," he whispered finally, a confession that came out vulnerable and hoarse. Naoki squeezed Asahi's shoulder reassuringly.

"Then play."

"I'm scared. What if I fail them again?"

"The fact that they still seek you out means you've never failed them."

"But I did, Naoki-sensei." Asahi stared up at him with unshed tears in his eyes. He looked utterly lost and defeated. "When they needed me, I couldn't do it. I couldn't be their Ace."

Naoki frowned, letting go of Asahi's shoulder. "You don't need to beat yourself up about that, okay? The only person you're failing is yourself by running away."

"I can't help it. What if I re-join and play, and lose again?"

"Then you try again. Again and again—until you win. That's what they're doing, Asahi-kun. They're not giving up. Why should you?"

He held the other's gaze, watching as things slid into place in Asahi's mind. Naoki was right. The only person who had given up was himself. Sugawara and Daichi were still soldiering on, working hard to get better. The second-years were doing the same. Why was he the only one that wasn't willing to keep pushing?

"Yeah. Yeah, sensei, you're right," Asahi sniffled, reaching up to scrub at his face. "Thank you for your advice. I feel better." He stood straight, determination returning to his bones. Asahi had always been a wimp, always running away from things that scared him even a little.

He had to make a stand now.

Naoki smiled gently, patting his student's shoulder. "Anytime." He urged him backwards, to the door. "Now go, you big elephant. They need you just as much as you need them."

He smiled encouragingly, following Asahi as he turned around and stalked out of the infirmary. His spine was ramrod straight, his chin lifted high, and a determined glint shone in his dark brown eyes. That look alone was enough to send chills down his spine.

He is an Ace in every fibre of his being, Naoki thought as he returned to his desk for the second time that day. His eyes glanced at the clock. Only an hour until the school day ended, and Naoki had to persuade a stranger to coach the boys' volleyball team.

Yet, with the picture of Asahi's back, strong and broad, Naoki felt like he could do it. If Asahi could confront his fears, then Naoki could do the same, even in his old age. 

• ════════════ •

Holding the note Takeda had slipped him, Naoki left the school grounds. His gaze drifted from the paper in his hands, back towards the school gate, where the sun cast long shadows.

The breeze picked up, bringing with it the scent of spring flowers and the smell of rain. He smiled faintly. It wouldn't take him very far. He merely had to walk down a few streets and turn left at the second crossroad he saw. And after a couple of minutes, he would be there.

"You'll be alright," Naoki told himself quietly, squeezing the paper tightly in his toned fingers before turning his attention back to the task at hand. "It's just another guy. No biggie. All you have to do is use your magic and persuade him to join. If you can't do that, offer your body." He paused, stopping in the middle of the street. He tilted his head and added, "But only if he's hot. Don't settle for less. You know your worth."

He let out a soft snort and shook his head, brushing away his own foolishness as he resumed walking towards the convenience store.

It didn't take long until it came into sight.

The store was situated in a small strip of shops surrounded by two large, towering trees and a few scattered houses. A row of vending machines lined the front of the entrance, offering a multitude of snacks and drinks for people to purchase. Naoki crossed the road leisurely, moving at his own pace. It was an early evening on Thursday, so the students were still in the extracurricular activities. That should mean the store was relatively empty.

Entering the store, his grey eyes scanned the aisles, landing on the space beside him. At the checkout counter, sitting with his legs up on the counter, was a lean, subtly muscled man clad in ripped jeans, an orange hoodie and an apron.

"Can I help you?" he asked, his voice deeper than expected. A hairband pushed back his blond hair, revealing tanned skin and an eyebrow that jutted out at an angle.

Naoki bowed politely. From what Takeda had told him, this man wanted nothing to do with the team, so he had to do his best to make a good first impression. "I'm Noboru Naoki. I'm here to discuss the coaching position for Karasuno's boys' volleyball team."

He didn't miss the way the guy groaned, lifting his legs off the desk and placing them on the ground. "I already told the other guy I'm not interested." He leaned forward, elbows propped on his knees, hands clasped together under his chin. "How many times do I have to repeat it?"

"Many times, it seems," Naoki joked lightly, taking a good look at the man. He was hot, if Naoki said so himself. He carried himself in an almost rugged way—something Naoki definitely liked. If it weren't for the marks under his sleeves and a written promise, Naoki would've asked for his number. But no. He wasn't here for that. He had a duty to fulfil. "Besides, I figured I could persuade you otherwise."

The man cocked his head.

"And how'd you do that?"

"Well," Naoki started, stepping closer and leaning against the counter, "I'd start with the whole 'you're the hero they never knew they needed' routine."

Ukai couldn't help but roll his eyes, lips twitching up in amusement. He stared at this unfamiliar man, intrigued by his approach. The other guy, Takeda, if he remembered correctly, had all but begged every time he came over to the store. This one, however, well, he liked where he was going. "Yeah," he hummed, pressing his cheek against his palm. "The classic 'convince a stranger to mentor a little giants team' move. Have you brought pom-poms and a cheerleading outfit to seal the deal?"

Naoki shrugged. "Well, if that's what it takes, I'll go get them from my house."

Ukai blinked slowly. He had meant that sarcastically. "You have pom-poms and a cheerleading outfit?" he asked tentatively.

"What can I say?" A smirk crawled across his face, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "An actor has to be prepared for any performance."

"You're an actor?"

"Nah." He shook his head. "Nowhere close. I just work at Karasuno."

Well, that was interesting information.

Deciding to play along, Ukai continued, "So, you're telling me that the fate of those boys rests in the hands of an aspiring cheerleader?"

"Hey, desperate times call for desperate measures. And if cheerleading is what it takes to get you on board, then I'm ready to break out my best spirit fingers," Naoki replied with an exaggerated wiggle of his fingers.

Something warm settled in Ukai's chest as he laughed. He drew his bottom lip between his teeth, an image of the man in a cheerleader's outfit appearing in his mind.

Ukai wouldn't lie and say this stranger hadn't caught his attention. Not just because he was attractive — although that was a big plus.

The man was tall and lean, easily towering over him from where Ukai sat behind the counter. His hair looked grey, almost silver, and Ukai wondered if it was natural or if he dyed it the same way he did. His shoulders were broad, stretching like a bowstring— but in a graceful line, not as hard and rigid as they could be. He had piercing grey eyes framed by dark lashes.

He dressed casually, in slacks and a long-sleeved shirt with the collars straightened. Ukai figured he was easygoing; he gave off that vibe. His posture was relaxed— his head held high instead of slumped down. And his presence made him stand out. There was an energy surrounding him, sticking to him like a second skin.

Ukai couldn't help the way he drew his bottom lip between his teeth.

A chuckle slipped past his lips and he pressed his face into his hands. "I can't believe I'm even considering this." His eyes flickered up to the stranger, a playfulness in them. "What's in it for me besides being the hero of the hour?"

Naoki grinned, leaning against the desk with a conspiratorial whisper, "Well, rumour has it that coaching a ragtag group of misfits will do wonders for your street cred." His eyes were twinkling, so bright and luminous they looked like a picture of the universe. "Think about it — you'll be the guy who turned a school in the smack-bang middle of nowhere into a powerhouse of the volleyball world."

Ukai raised his hand and scratched his head, feigning deep contemplation. "A powerhouse, huh?" He pursed his lips. "I've always wanted my own sports montage," he joked.

"Exactly! Picture it: slow-motion serves, dramatic high-fives, and a triumphant victory dance. You can't say no to that."

Yeah, Ukai really liked this guy.

He was stroking his ego the right way.

Ukai chuckled again, shaking his head. "You're insane," he breathed, voice heavy with something intangible. He leaned against his chair, crossing his arms and giving the man his full attention. "Fine, I'll give it a shot. But no cheerleading outfits, okay?"

Naoki grinned.

Yes!

He managed to fulfil his responsibilities and offer the boys an opportunity to have a proper coach. Kami-sama knew they could use it. Naoki firmly believed that with the right sustenance, the boys could sprout wings and soar.

He beamed and gave a mock salute. "No cheerleading outfits, then. I'll save that for the championship celebration."

Ukai liked the way he smiled, he realised. And that realisation, all too soon, felt like a punch to the guy. He couldn't allow himself to perpetuate his attraction— there was someone out there for him, and Ukai promised to wait for him. So, clearing his throat, he nodded over to the aisles occupying the store. "Since I'm doing you this favour, go buy something. I still have a business to run, and you've wasted many precious minutes."

Naoki blinked.

He raised his brows, amused.

"I just sold you your future— you call that wasting time?"

"Yes."

Naoki's eyes sparkled with mischief as he scanned the aisles, looking for something he liked. "Well, let's consider this an investment, then."

That earned him a laugh — Ukai couldn't stop himself. There was something about him; the man was magnetic, like a magnet pulling others in. Maybe it was the charm. Or maybe it was the kindness underneath the layers of jokery and teasing. Or perhaps it was the mystery. No matter how many explanations went through Ukai's brain, though, none were convincing enough.

He had a soulmate waiting for him.

That came first.

With that, Ukai sighed and hurried to finish the conversation before he did something he was bound to regret. "Fine, buy whatever and then get out of here." He muttered under his breath, "I don't know what I've signed up for, but it better come with a good story to tell someday."

Naoki snorted as he walked over to the first aisle on his left. "It won't be just a story. It'll be an epic tale of convenience turned conquest," he said with a wink. He snagged two chocolate bars, a packet of chips and placed them on the counter. "You'll thank me when we're hoisting the national trophy in this very store."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Ukai bemused. He reached for the items and scanned them.

As he did so, his sleeves rolled up his arm, letting the skin underneath show.

Naoki caught sight of it.

He furrowed his brows.

"Hey, you know," he started, a contemplative look spreading across his face, "that looks an awful lot like my handwriting. Oh."

Two words were written underneath what looked to be a teddy bear.

The same one on his own arm.

"Oh."

Ukai's head shot up. He inhaled sharply as the stranger yanked up his sleeves and saw what he had drawn that morning on his skin.

The same teddy bear.

The same handwriting.

They stared at each other.

"Future husband?"

Naoki burst out laughing, slapping his hand against his forehead. Ukai watched him struggle to control himself, eyes watering. He couldn't help the smile that broke out across his face.

"I guess that's me," Naoki laughed, wiping away a few stray tears. He offered his soulmate a sheepish smile— because this was his soulmate."My name's Naoki, Noburu Naoki."

Ukai took him in— all of him. Without restraint, without reservation.

"You look hot," he said.

Naoki bit his lip. "So do you."

And he really did. Naoki wasn't just saying that because this man was his soulmate. And what an odd turn of events. He came here to help his students, and now, he was leaving with the satisfaction that he did, and also the knowledge that he was his soulmate. His fated person. The man behind the awful (but adorable) drawings. The man who scrawled nothing and everything across his skin— sometimes in places that were so random it made him laugh.

Naoki couldn't believe he found him.

"Are you gonna propose?"

His soulmate's words brought him back to reality.

Memories of their conversations filtered through Naoki's mind, from their first doodles—when they were children and only knew how to scribble—to when they were older and could write. Their first words, their first sentences.

This man had been with Naoki his whole life. He was a part of him— like another limb.

And here he was.

Right in front of him.

"What if I don't want to?" Naoki teased, feeling helplessly affectionate. An endearing fondness blossomed in his chest. It threatened to consume him, to pull him into a warm embrace. He wanted to reach over the counter and grab this man by his apron, pull him close, press their lips together and declare him his.

His soulmate. His person.

Ukai leaned forward, smirking. "I told you, didn't I? Trust me. You will."

Hearing the words that were once on his skin lifted Naoki's heart to new heights.

He hummed, playing it cool (lest his soulmate thought him weird), "Let me see if I have a ring in my pockets somewhere." He patted his trousers, feeling the fabric. He reached into his pocket, fingers curling around an object and pulling it out. "No ring," Naoki informed, "but I have a lollipop. How does that sound?"

"Not even a lollipop ring?"

"I'll get you one next time."

Ukai thought about it. "I'll take it."

He held out his hand, palm open, and Naoki handed it to him. The first brush of their skin felt like coming home. They shivered.

"So..." Ukai started as he stared at his soulmate, warmth settling in his stomach. The shock of the situation faded, and reality was creeping in through the windows. "What do we do now?"

"I don't know about you, but I have work tomorrow. I've got to sleep."

"Ah, yes. The school nurse."

Naoki nodded in confirmation.

"I'd have never guessed you lived so close."

"Me neither."

They were living right under each other's noses. How had they never seen each other before?

Naoki sucked on his inner lip. He couldn't forget the reason he was here in the first place. "Now, about the volleyball team."

"Yes, I'll give it a shot," Ukai answered. He gave Naoki a pointed look. "And no, I'm not just saying that because you're my soulmate. The team obviously means a lot if you and the other guy keep showing up and bothering me. I'll check it out— call it a trial run."

"Sounds like a done deal."

With their tongues seemingly tied, minds racing with thoughts, Ukai distracted himself by doing something mundane and familiar. His grasp on reality was slipping, and he needed to ground himself. He scanned the items his soulmate had placed on the counter.

"That'll be 450," Ukai told him.

"What? No soulmate discount?"

He shook his head, shrugging nonchalantly. "No hard feelings. 'S just business."

"Oh, fuck yourself," Naoki replied, laughing under his breath. He took out his wallet and handed his soulmate the cash, desperate to feel his fingers brush against his own.

Ukai grinned, large and toothy, and exchanged the money for the change he needed.

"See you later, future husband," he all but sang.

Naoki smiled, features softening.

He reached over and brushed his knuckles against Ukai's cheeks, unable to help himself. His heart felt too big, too full. It thumped against his ribcage, threatening to burst out as he stared into his soulmate's eyes. He felt his soulmate stutter an uneven breath against his touch. They fell silent, holding each other's gaze.

The world fell silent.

There were no words to speak, no feelings to say. It was just them.

"See you later, soulmate of mine," Naoki said softly, his voice trembling as he withdrew his hand. He wanted to stay, wanted to collect his soulmate in his arms and keep him there.

But the world kept moving, and Naoki had responsibilities.

Besides, they would see each other again.

Fate made sure of it.

With one last look over his shoulder, Naoki left the store. He tore open one of the chocolate bars and bit into it, the sweet taste flooding his mouth as he walked to his apartment. It melted against his tongue, and Naoki wondered if this could be called love. If love was like eating a chocolate bar and picturing someone's face while doing so. Love must be like that— Naoki thought. One day, he reasoned, he'll have another chocolate bar, and he'll eat it, and all he will think about is his soulmate and his beautiful eyes, his shiny hair, his disgustingly sweet face, and his infectious smile.

One day, he'll fall in love with him.

For now, Naoki was happy to have found him. It was a nice distraction from the bittersweet anxiety settling in his stomach.