"You-" I said. My voice shook despite my effort to control it. "You scared me."
He hesitated, then took a few steps closer. "Sorry. I didn't mean to." His tone softened. "I was passing by, then saw you and thought I'd say hello. Isn't it a little dark for a walk?"
"A walk?" I stared at him, confused, then lifted the bags slightly. "I'm taking out the trash."
He stopped a few steps away. "Then go ahead," he said. "I won't bother you."
It was strange. Something I did every night without thinking suddenly was almost unbearable under his gaze. Too awkward.
I nudged the dumpster lid open with my elbow and tried to throw one of the bags in—
My foot slipped.
For a split second, I was sure I was going down with it, straight into the dumpster, when a strong hand caught me. My back pressed into something warm and solid.
Him.
God help me.
Humiliation burned through me. A bartender at a dumpster… Ridiculous and miserable all at once.
He took the bag from my hands easily and tossed it into the dumpster.
Leaning in, he murmured near my ear, "So. Are you throwing out the next one, or are you planning to stand here a while?"
I snapped back to myself, quickly threw the second bag away, then turned too fast and ended up nearly face-to-face with him.
Now the only thing between us was my fox mask.
His eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, the world seemed to stall. Everything faded.
I could've stepped aside. But there was a trash can right behind me, so where was I supposed to go?
I could've said something. But again, I didn't.
I just froze there, stuck in the moment, and if I was being honest, I didn't even want to break it.
Even though I was still nervous, we'd never been this close before.
"...I could've handled it," I muttered.
He tilted his head with a smile. "I know."
Silence settled between us again. The faint, muffled music coming from the bar added to the strange atmosphere of the situation.
There was barely any space between us now. Just a small gap. And my mask. For some reason, I suddenly wanted to rip it off right then.
Why not now?
Why was I still hiding?
What was I even waiting for?
At that very moment, I heard the door creak, and my resolve vanished.
I turned and saw Kazuo step outside, scanning the alley, clearly looking for me.
"Luka!" he said.
Ed took two long strides away as if the closeness had never happened.
"There you are," Kazuo's eyes flicking between us. His tone shifted instantly when he spotted Ed. "Well, well. Regular. Didn't expect to see you out here. You've got a habit of showing up in the strangest places. First, that fancy suit at the counter of a modest bar, now out back by the trash. Quite the taste you've got."
Ed glanced at him and said, "I was only passing by."
Kazuo chuckled, clearly teasing. "Uh-huh. Sure."
Then he looked back at me. "So, Luka, you coming back in soon?" His tone was light. Almost playful. Kazuo was having fun.
I wasn't.
I was burning from the inside out. Heat crawled up my neck, spread across my face, sank into my chest. The entire situation made me feel as if I was about to combust on the spot. Thank God for the mask. Without it, the embarrassment would've been unbearable.
"Yeah," I muttered, forcing the word out. "I'm coming."
"Don't take too long," he said. "I need help inside."
He paused, giving us one last, long look.
"We're closing anyway," he added casually. "So… yeah. See you."
Then he turned and shut the door behind him.
The silence that followed was heavier.
I stared at the ground, pretending to brush dirt off my hands. The echo of that near-moment still clung to me. Now, though, it was tangled with worry.
Had it made him uncomfortable? Was I the only one, again, seeing things that weren't really there?
Before I could say anything, Ed's voice broke the quiet. "Your friend has a sharp tongue."
I risked a glance at him. "Yeah," I said. "That's Kazuo."
We stood there for a moment. The night stretched around us, cool and damp. I shifted toward the door, needing to escape the tension before it swallowed me whole.
"I should go," I said finally. "He's waiting."
I reached for the handle, but before I could push it open, the words tumbled out of me.
"You promised last time... To show me your part of the city. Maybe it's time you made good on that."
What the hell had gotten into me to say that? Was I desperate? Or was he overcome by some crazy hope?
The second the words slipped out of my mouth, my heart kicked up again, dragging me closer to another panic attack.
Yet he did not hesitate for a second. "That's a fine idea," he said. "How about Tuesday? Same time. Same place."
"...Alright," I said, trying my best to sound normal. "Tuesday."
He stayed silent for a moment. Then he sighed. "Well," he said. "I guess it's time for me to go. See you next time."
And just like that, he turned away.
I heard his footsteps retreating, soft against the pavement. I stood there, frozen, watching his silhouette slowly pull farther away, until it disappeared around the corner.
Tuesday.
Fucking Tuesday.
We were going to see each other on Tuesday.
I'd never thought a day of the week could evoke such feelings in me. That mix of excitement, this weird undercurrent of fear, and that hot anticipation that wouldn't let me breathe right.
I exhaled, forcing myself to shake the thought loose.
Then I finally pushed the door open and slipped back inside, the noise of the bar washing over me again.
The sudden brightness of the bar lights was too sharp after the dim quiet outside. I blinked against it, forcing myself back into the rhythm of the place.
Kazuo was moving behind the counter, sliding bottles into place. He glanced up at me once, a quick measuring look, but didn't say anything.
I slipped past him, grabbed a rag, and started scrubbing the counter with far more force than it deserved. The surface was already clean, but my hands kept moving.
Something was still tight in my chest. Breathing was shallow, uneven. I couldn't let go of what had just happened.
He hadn't turned me down.
Not only that.
Now we had a time and place.
But I had to stay as calm as possible. It was nothing more than a meeting between two friends. That's all. Nothing more. It wasn't a date. It couldn't be... He was going to show me around his neighborhood. We'd take a walk. That was it. Nothing important. Nothing serious.
Right?
"Hey. Easy there."
Kazuo's voice broke my spiral. "You trying to polish the bar or grind your hands down to bone?"
I blinked and realized I'd been scrubbing the same spot over and over. "Oh. Yeah. Sorry," I said. "Got lost in my head."
He looked at me for a moment. "Listen," he said. "There's not much left to do tonight. We're basically done. I'll close up. You should go home. You clearly need some rest."
"I can help," I protested weakly.
"Oh, come on." He waved me off. "Instead of drilling holes into our counter, go get some sleep. You've had a day." He smirked and winked.
Heat rose to my face again. I tugged my mask off, pulled my hood up, and went to grab my things.
Outside, the cold air jolted me back to my senses. I inhaled deeply for the first time in what felt like hours. I wasn't sure why I'd been holding myself so tight all night, barely breathing.
Time to go home.
Kazuo was right. I needed to rest.
*** *** *** *** ***
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