It had become routine for Ryuji to stop by Vinyl Dreams after work. At first, it had been a way to escape the overwhelming silence of his apartment, to fill the void with something—anything—that felt real. But lately, he found himself going there for a different reason, one he couldn't quite articulate.

Today, as he walked in, the bell above the door rang, and he was met with the familiar sight of Saori flipping through a stack of vinyl records, a soft smile curving her lips as she hummed a tune under her breath. There was something so peaceful about the way she moved, as if the entire world had slowed down around her.

"Hey, you're early," she greeted him with her usual energy, looking up from the pile she was sorting.

"Yeah," Ryuji said, leaning against the counter, watching her. "I finished early today."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "You're looking at albums already?" she teased. "Is this a sign of your growing music collection?"

Ryuji chuckled, but it wasn't dismissive. "Maybe I'm just getting curious," he admitted. "You always talk about music like it's more than just... music."

Saori's smile softened, and she placed the vinyls down before stepping closer to him. "Well, it is," she said, voice lowering slightly, as though she was sharing something secret. "It just... speaks to you. You don't have to try to understand it. You just feel it."

Ryuji was quiet for a moment, the weight of her words hanging in the air. He hadn't expected this kind of answer—something so... raw. He looked at her, really looked at her, noticing how her eyes seemed to glow when she talked about something she loved.

He found himself responding, without thinking. "I don't know if I've ever felt music like that."

Saori's gaze lingered for a second, before she smiled, as if knowing exactly what he needed to hear. "I think you might. You just need to let go of trying so hard." She picked up a record from the shelf and slid it toward him. "Here. This one's a good start. Let the music take you somewhere."

Ryuji hesitated, then took the record in his hands. The album cover was a vibrant swirl of colors that felt as much like an invitation as a promise. He nodded, appreciating the simplicity of her gesture, but inside, there was a quiet tug. Something about the way she believed in things, how she made the world seem full of possibilities—it felt like a weight lifting from him.

He took the record to the counter and paid for it, though part of him had already decided that it didn't matter much how much the music cost. It was the feeling that mattered. The way Saori made him want to understand things that, until now, had seemed unnecessary.

"Thanks," he said softly, more than just for the album.

Saori flashed him a smile. "Anytime," she said. "I'm always happy to share what I love."

As he walked out, the album tucked under his arm, Ryuji felt lighter than he had in days. The sky was a soft orange hue, the kind that suggested the night was still a few hours away, and yet, it felt like everything around him was slowing down.

Later that week, Ryuji found himself in the shop again, the album Saori had recommended playing softly in the background as he flipped through the records. The music was gentle, almost soothing, and he couldn't help but notice how much it mirrored the way Saori made him feel.

She was at the counter, scribbling something down on a notepad, when she noticed him. "You really like that one, huh?" she asked, her voice light and teasing.

He didn't have to look at her to know she was smiling, that mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

Ryuji shrugged, but it was more of an acknowledgment than a dismissal. "I didn't think I would," he admitted. "But it's... it's different. It's calming, somehow."

"Music always does that," she said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "It gives you the space to breathe."

He caught her gaze this time, and there was something in it—something that made his chest tighten, a feeling he couldn't quite place. But it wasn't discomfort. It was something else. Something warmer.

"I never really understood that before," he said, his voice quieter than he'd intended. He shifted, feeling a little self-conscious. "You make it seem easy. Like you've always known how to... feel things."

Saori tilted her head, her eyes softening as she studied him. "Maybe you just need someone to remind you it's okay to feel." Her voice was gentle, but it carried a weight to it, something that made Ryuji's chest tighten in a different way.

There was a long silence between them. Ryuji wasn't sure why, but he found himself standing a little closer to her than he had before. He hadn't meant to. It was just... he couldn't help it. There was something about the way she moved, the way she breathed, that made him feel more alive.

"I guess I'm still learning," he said, quietly, more to himself than to her.

Saori's smile was soft and understanding. "We all are."

Ryuji felt a warmth spread through him, and for the first time in a long time, it wasn't the usual emptiness that accompanied his thoughts. It was something else. Something that made him want to stay here, in this moment, in this place. With Saori.

As the shop started to quiet down with the approach of evening, Ryuji lingered a little longer, watching Saori as she worked. Her hands moved gracefully over the records, her concentration deep, but there was always a lightness to her presence.

It was like being in the sun after a long winter—suddenly, everything seemed possible. He wasn't sure what was happening, or when it had started, but he couldn't deny it anymore.

He was falling for Saori.

And in this moment, he was okay with it. Even though he didn't know where this would go, or what it meant, he felt... something. Something real.