Love At First Pitch - Kenji Sato

seven

I scramble through my entire closet, tossing clothes left and right in a desperate search for the perfect dress. Earlier, I had received a text from Kenji saying to dress nice, and now I'm freaking out. With every dress I hold up to my body, I quickly disregard it and throw it onto the growing pile on the floor. Nothing seems right. My heart races as I dig through the last of my suitcases, the one filled with random bits and bobs. My fingers brush against something smooth at the bottom, and I pull out a gorgeous red dress. The silk material feels luxurious against my skin, and for a moment, I'm stunned by its beauty. As I hold it up, a note falls to the floor. I pick it up and read the sweet message from Lexa: "Threw this in here when you weren't looking. You never know when it would come in handy. PS: Red is your color. – Lexa."

A smile spreads across my face as I throw on the gorgeous dress. It fits perfectly, accentuating all the right curves. I quickly accessorize, choosing delicate jewelry that complements the dress, and pull my dark curls into an elegant updo. I take one last look in the mirror, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.

Stepping outside, I plan to catch the bus, but I stop in my tracks when I see a gorgeous silver sports car parked in front of my small apartment complex. Kenji stands outside it, looking absolutely stunning in an all-black suit. His eyes light up when he sees me, and I can't help but blush under his gaze.

"You look amazing," he says, his voice dripping with flirtation. "Red really is your color."

"Thanks," I reply, trying to play it cool. "You clean up pretty well yourself."

He grins, clearly enjoying himself. "I thought I'd save you the trouble of taking the subway," he says, opening the car door for me. "There's no need for that tonight."

I laugh, feeling the butterflies in my stomach. "I could've managed, you know."

"Maybe," he says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "But I wanted to make sure you arrived in style."

As I slide into the passenger seat, I can't help but feel a thrill of excitement. Kenji gets in beside me, and as we drive off, I can't shake the feeling that tonight is going to be something special.

As we drive through the city, the tension between Kenji and me is palpable. Every glance he steals at me, every brush of his hand against mine when he shifts gears, sends shivers down my spine. The city lights blur into a kaleidoscope of colors as we speed through the streets, and I can barely keep my mind from racing. The silence is heavy, filled with unspoken words and electric anticipation.

Kenji finally breaks the silence, his voice smooth and confident. "I'm taking you to La Belle Époque," he says, glancing over at me with a smirk. "It's this incredibly fancy French restaurant. I think you'll love it."

My eyes widen in surprise. "La Belle Époque? Isn't that the place with the months-long waiting list?"

He chuckles, clearly pleased with himself. "It is, but I have my ways." He winks, and I can't help but smile.

When we arrive, I'm blown away by the sheer elegance of the restaurant. The exterior is adorned with twinkling fairy lights, and the interior is even more breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. The tables are set with pristine white linens, and the soft hum of classical music fills the air.

As we walk in, I notice that the entire restaurant is empty, save for the staff. "Did you book the whole place just for us?" I ask, my voice tinged with awe.

Kenji nods, his expression proud. "I wanted tonight to be special."

We're seated at a beautifully set table near a large window overlooking the city. As we wait for the waiter to come take our drink orders, we chat, the conversation flowing easily despite the underlying tension. Kenji orders white wine for himself and red for me, and we laugh about our opposing tastes.

"You and your red wine," he teases, shaking his head. "I'll never understand it."

"And you with your white," I retort, grinning. "It's like we're from different worlds."

The night goes smoothly, the conversation light and filled with laughter. The food is exquisite; each dish is a work of art, and every bite is a new experience. We share stories from our pasts, dreams for the future, and everything in between. For a moment, it feels like we're the only two people in the world, wrapped up in our own little bubble of happiness.

But just as we're finishing our appetizers, Kenji's watch suddenly flashes bright red. I point it out, concern lacing my voice. "Should you take that?"

He glances down at his watch, and alarm flashes across his features. "I'm so sorry," he says, standing up abruptly. "I have to go. It's...urgent."

He apologizes multiple times, his voice tinged with regret and frustration, but never quite explains why he has to leave. Just as he's about to walk out the door, he turns back to me, his expression earnest and almost desperate. "Please, go home and stay there. Don't go anywhere else tonight. Promise me."

I'm taken aback by the intensity of his request. "Kenji, what's going on? Why do I need to stay home?"

He hesitates, his eyes searching mine as if trying to decide how much to tell me. "It's complicated," he finally says, his voice strained. "Just trust me. It's not safe out here tonight."

Before I can respond, he's gone, leaving me alone and confused in the empty restaurant. The night that started with so much promise now feels like a puzzle with missing pieces, and I can't shake the feeling that something big is happening just out of my reach.

I sit there for a few moments, trying to process everything. The elegant setting around me now feels cold and empty, a stark contrast to the warmth and excitement I felt earlier. I glance out the window, the city lights twinkling like distant stars, and a sense of unease settles over me.

Reluctantly, I gather my things and leave the restaurant. The drive home is a blur, my mind racing with questions and worries. What could be so urgent that Kenji had to leave so suddenly? And why did he seem so concerned for my safety?

When I finally reach my apartment, I lock the door behind me and lean against it, taking a deep breath. The silence of my home is both comforting and unsettling. I try to distract myself by reading a book, but my mind keeps drifting back to Kenji and the strange urgency in his voice.

Minutes pass, and I can't shake the feeling that something is wrong. I check my phone repeatedly, hoping for a message from Kenji, but there's nothing. The city outside my window seems unusually quiet, and the unease in my chest grows stronger.

Just as I'm about to give up and go to bed, my phone buzzes.