Growing up as a social person, Sora Suzuki was surrounded by love and affection- even from the most random people. Tender strokes, gentle kisses. Love came to him in the form of five unique beings, and damn, he's in deep. But when shit happens, and...
met you at the right time; this is what it feels like
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APRIL EIGHTH, TWO THOUSAND AND SEVENTEEN
17:49 in the evening
SURREAL. THAT'S WHAT life felt like for Sora. He had spent years cultivating relationships with other people, taking his time to construct each piece, playing each card right. And yet, it was all pointless— because here she was. His Mikayo. His lover. A completely unexpected twist in the story that he had planned and plotted for so long.
April of another spring, and no longer is our beloved protagonist tired, fatigued or drowning. Instead, he's alive. Like the lilies in the pond and the sweet meat of the mango.
"You look like you're in a good mood." His assistant, Funai, peered at him with a pleasant surprise. He had a pile of papers in his head, ready to be signed and sent off.
"I am," was all he heard.
Funai raised a brow. He dumped the contents onto Sora's desk, waiting for his boss to continue, but his attention was elsewhere.
Cerulean eyes gazed at the books across the room, untouched and untroubled. A smile crept upon his lips, the sight bringing out the dimples on his cheeks and the slight blush on his skin. Funai found that staring at Sora sometimes felt otherworldly. He had such sharp features and such a handsome figure, it seemed more than human. His hair usually fell just below his shoulder blades, tied back into an elegant bun that hung from his head. It had never been trimmed since they first met, nor did Sora ever wear it any shorter. His complexion was also so flawless that it added an ethereal air about him.
But, as Funai looked closely, Sora looked human. Plain and simple— just like that.
His hair was shorter. His features were softer. There wasn't a hint of that sharpened face he'd grown accustomed to seeing these past few months. Sora was happier. Something had happened that made him feel lighter.
Spring arrived with new beginnings, and Sora happened to be granted one of them.
Funai shrugged. "Alright. See you tomorrow."
"See you," Sora returned, but his tone was hollow, as if he was distracted.
The door to his office shut, and silence resumed. Sora was still in his seat, leaning against the leather cushion, lost in thought. His gaze lazily moved toward the stacks of paperwork on his desk. There were a lot of things he had to complete— more than usual, but Sora didn't have the motivation to work on them. They could wait, he decided. There was something more important for him to think about. Someone more important.
With not the slightest bit of worry clouding his mind, Sora's thoughts drifted away and settled on a person that filled his lungs with air.
