Haruka stared at her phone, blinking. She already knew Kenji was in Japan, considering her baseball-loving friends from college had spammed her with messages, asking if it was true. Ken Sato left the Dodgers, and returned home to join the Yomiuri Giants.

Taking a deep breath, Haruka started typing her reply.

There he was. In all his grinning glory. Kenji freaking Sato. Messy black hair falling over his face, insanely sharp cheekbones. And of course, Haruka could not forget his strikingly beautiful eyes, a lovely mix of purple and grey. Like many of his fans, Haruka had to agree. Kenji was incredibly good-looking. And he was texting her. He was actually texting her.

Holy. Shit.

Haruka pressed her lips together, thinking. Why did he want to meet her? It's not like they had spoken in a while or bothered to keep in touch. She had reached out, after what happened to Kenji's mother, but a reply never came. Understandably so. Haruka knew better than what losing a parent (or parents, in her case) does to someone. Still, they had been friends, acquaintances, once upon a time.

Besides, looking at his photo and texts, and not replying felt almost physically painful for Haruka.

There was just something about the streets of Tokyo that made Haruka feel she was home. The lights, the shops, the night sky above...this was just the perfect place to be. Even as she was walking towards Tonkatsu Tonki, she was feeling the itch to pick up a pencil and sketch out an idea for a painting.

But the closer Haruka got to Tonkatsu Tonki, that good feeling disappeared and dread started filling her heart. What would it even be like to see Kenji in person after so long? She could count on two hands how many times they had met when she was still in the USA. Besides he was Ken freaking Sato, LA Dodgers' shining star. She was just Haruka.

She sighed. No point in dwelling on the past now. At least not till they started talking.

Up ahead, she spotted a blinking neon signboard with Tonkatsu Tonki written in very eye-catching kanji. In front of the restaurant, leaning against a sleek, black motorcycle, was the one person Haruka had been dreading (looking forward to!) meeting. He was taller than she remembered. Dressed in a black motorcycle jacket over a white t-shirt, wearing black pants and leather boots, Kenji Sato looked incredibly attractive. Messy black hair fell over his forehead, though he did not look affected. He was staring at his phone, tapping his foot against the ground.

Haruka paused for a moment, taking in the scene. It almost, the keyword being almost, looked like a scene she wanted to capture in a painting.

She sighed and took a deep breath. "Hey, Kenji."

It was hard not to be nervous and to stop her hands from shaking a little, so she awkwardly put them in her pockets, waiting with bated breath for Kenji's reaction. At the sound of her voice, Kenji looked up and a grin slowly spread across his face. "Haruka Miura in the flesh. I thought you wouldn't show up."

"I said I'd be here, didn't I?" Haruka answered, shrugging and pretending to be casual in a situation that made her nerves go haywire in a way they hadn't, not in a long time. "How are you, Kenji?"

"Me?" Kenji was still grinning. "I'm pretty great actually." 

He walked to where she was standing and wrapped his arms around her before she could even react, pulling her into a very unexpected embrace. Considering that Haruka could count on one hand how many times she had hugged people in the past few months, and that she was naturally a very touch-starved person, this hug felt...weird.

"It's good to see you, Haru," Kenji said, as they finally pulled away from the hug.

Haruka awkwardly scratched her cheek. "It's good to see you too, Ken. Let's go inside?"

Kenji nodded, leading the way. The restaurant was empty inside, except for the old chef working behind the counter. The counter was surrounded by a wooden, rectangular table with red bar seats. There were also booths to sit at, but Kenji led her straight to one corner of the table, where they sat on opposite ends.

Before an awkward silence settled over them, Haruka quickly asked, "Any advice on what I should get?" 

Smiling, Kenji pointed to one item on the menu. "Just trust me on this one."

"Okay," Haruka nodded. They place their orders with the old chef and he started cooking. Soon, a delicious smell filled the restaurant and Haruka swore she felt her stomach growl a little. 

But then, that awkward silence settled over them. She could feel Kenji's eyes on her, but she was simply not the type to speak first. She fiddled with her fingers, pretending she was typing a cry for help and praying for someone to give her enough courage to ask him something. 

"So, how have you been?" Kenji suddenly asked.

Haruka blinked. She looked at him, raising her eyebrows. "I am doing okay," she answered, emphasising the doing okay part. "I should be asking you that, shouldn't I? Considering that you are the 'oh-so-great' Ken Sato, who took time out of his busy schedule to meet little ol'me, when we've barely spoken in the past few months, and this is the first time that we're meeting even though you have been in Japan for a while. And..."

Haruka stopped when she spotted Kenji's wide-eyed expression. Whoops. So much for trying to make things not awkward. "Sorry, Kenji, that was rude. I know you're a busy guy and after everything that happened with..." she took a deep breath as she worded her next sentence very carefully. "I know better than most people what it can be like and how overwhelming the world can be." 

Phew. A win for careful phrasing.

"Yeah." Kenji had the slightest frown on his face, but when he looked at her, his expression was normal. "Don't stress 'bt it. Life, right?"

Haruka snorted. "Yeah. Life. But wait, I didn't really give you a proper answer, did I? I am doing pretty okay, like I said. The old apartment is mine now, and converted it into a mini-studio for my paintings. I do a few gallery shows here and there, sell paintings, do a few commissions. Buy art supplies. Just the classic artist's life."

"I thought all artists were supposed to be broke."

"Nope. Actually, I got a funny story. This rich guy one day contacts me, asking if I can sell him my paintings. His wife had apparently really liked some at a show I did at a small gallery here. Turns out the wife was divorcing him because he 'didn't appreciate her or listen to her enough'. So he decides that he'll buy every painting from that show and show her that he listened."

"And?" Kenji leaned forward, looking oddly hooked on the story. "What happened?" 

"The paintings didn't help because the guy was kind of sleeping with his secretary. Classic rich guy debauchery. And they divorced. The wife took quite a decent chunk from him, thanks to a prenup. And the paintings went with her. I don't know what happened after that, because you know, I was laughing my way to the bank account. Rich people, I tell you. And that guy even came back, trying to commission me for a painting showing his 'struggles' during his divorce. I, of course accepted, because, ahem, one needs money to survive in this world. And after living in New York for 4 years, money is very valuable to me. And..."

Haruka blinked. Oh. God. She had just blabbed on and on and on. She always tended to babble when she was nervous. That had led to some very unpleasant situations especially when people asked her to describe the meaning behind her paintings (sometimes she just wanted to imagine a blue sofa on the beach, people!). She covered her face with her hands, feeling it grow too warm. "I am so sorry. I didn't even realise when I started rambling. You probably got bored."

"Nah, I liked the story." When she dropped her hands and looked at Kenji, he looked like he was holding back a laugh. "You deal with a lot of weirdos?"

Haruka put on the air of those annoying art critics. "I believe the correct term would be rich weirdos." 

Kenji laughed, the sound strangely pleasant to her ears. "Sounds like you have fun."

"Well, now I do. But, you know, four years in New York in a tiny apartment readies you for anything," Haruka answered, half-sighing, half-smiling. Before she could ask Kenji anything, the old chef appeared in front of them, carrying plates of steaming hot and surprisingly large servings of tonkatsu with curry and rice.

Kenji was looking at her, she realized, as she broke open the chopsticks with one hand. Haruka looked at him with a small smile, before digging into the food. The moment she took a bite of the tonkatsu, with the curry, her mouth exploded with flavour. The tonkatsu was the crispiest one she had ever had, and the pork was cooked to perfection. The curry was jam-packed with flavour.

"Oh. my. god," Haruka sighed with pure delight. "This is the single best thing that I have tasted. Ever."

"Told you," Kenji said smugly, as he took a bite of his own tonkatsu. "I knew you'd like this one."

"Yeah, well, you scored a home run with this one," Haruka answered. "But hey, enough about me. What's up with you? You're playing with the Giants. That must be nice. I heard they have some good players on there." 

"The Giants are okay. But I've joined the team now so they're definitely going to be better," Kenji said, sounding a tad bit arrogant. "Besides they need me, considering how low they've fallen in the rankings."

"Woah. Confident much?"

"Haruka, I'm Ken Sato. I believe in my abilities over the others on the team. Besides, I don't need them to hold me down."

"Well, I wouldn't know," Haruka answered. Internally, she was screaming. He is so full of himself. But damn that confidence looks good on him. "I have never been to a baseball match."

"You've seen me play though?"

"Yeah, like twice when the Dodgers were playing in New York. Sure you hit a couple of home runs, but I barely know enough about baseball to comment on how you play." 

Kenji whistled. "I can count on you to keep me humble, can't I?"

"Is it working?" Haruka asked. 

Instead of responding, Kenji pulled out his phone and tapped on the screen for a few seconds before putting it back in his pocket. He looked at her, smirking. Moments later, her phone buzzed, indicating the arrival of a text. 

Haruka tapped on the notification, quickly scanning it and then looked back at Kenji with raised eyebrows. "VIP tickets to the upcoming Giants vs Swallows game? You're kidding."

"Definitely not. Come see me play, Haru," Kenji said. "You'll see the Ken Sato show in full effect."

"Does that line work for everyone?"

"Sure does for my fans."

"Well, you got yourself a deal. Now can we go back to eating the nice tonkatsu, please?"

Kenji laughed that same pleasant laugh from before. "Yeah, let's do that." 

*

The rest of the evening (or night) passed by quickly. Haruka found it surprising, how easy it was to go back and be friends with Kenji Sato. Yeah, he was arrogant. Yeah, he had that confident swagger you'd see from people at the top of their game. Yeah, he seemed to think he was the best player on the Giants. But three were moments in their conversation, where his smile didn't exactly reach his eyes and his expression seemed to change before returning to 'normal'. 

Haruka knew exactly why that was. (They hadn't breached that topic yet, about his mom or her parents. And that was okay.) But the strange thing was, he hadn't really mentioned his dad, except mentioning something about an injury. There was something more to it, Haruka knew, but she wasn't the type to bring it up. Maybe a few months down the line. Maybe then. 

By the time they were done with their meal (which Haruka insisted on paying for, for both of them), it was quite late already. The moon hung bright in the sky, and combined with the street lights, the moonlight cast an almost otherworldly glow. Once more, Haruka's fingers itched to pick up a brush. 

"Well, that was nice," She said, as they stepped out of Tonkatsu Tonki, closing the door behind them. "Best meal I've had in a long time."

"I know," Kenji answered. "I knew you would like it. I know you like katsudon, so I figured you'd like this too."

"Damn. You haven't forgotten about my Katsudon obsession," Haruka said, feeling a little self-conscious. 

"Nahh, don't think I'm ever forgetting the day I saw you eat four of those in one go."

"Ahh, Kenji! Stop reminding me of that day. I'm still embarrassed about it." Haruka covered her face, now fully feeling embarrassed. That day had been one of those rare meetings when the two had been in the same country, and a friend had offered to fly her out to LA to join her family for a Christmas thing. She had ended up meeting Kenji then, his mom busy with her own thing and he had taken her to this Japanese restaurant, where she had filled her stomach and emptied her wallet. (And that was that.)

Kenji laughed out loud. "I wouldn't be friends with you if I didn't embarrass you with old stories." 

Friends, huh? 

Haruka was quite happy with that. 

....for now 🤭

i am so obsessed with ken sato; he literally has not left my thoughts since the first edit popped up on my fyp. and neither did i think i'd be feeling so inspired to write either. this chapter turned out to be much longer than i thought, and you know i'm here for that. i know not a lot happens here, except for haruka and ken meeting, but i wanted their meeting to be a whole separate chapter just so that you can have an idea of how their dynamic is, and will be. 

haruka may be calling him kenji now, but she'll call him ken soon. and because i promised a 'slow' fast burn, the big reveal is pretty much in the next chapter. and its gonna be fun hehe. 

but anyways, i hope you all enjoyed this chapter. would love to know your thoughts in the comments <3