Look at Me (Satoru Gojo x OC)

1: November 3

4:34 P.M.

The wooden door creaked, followed by bells tinkling, a cue that a customer entered the traditional wagashi shop. Standing behind the counter was a woman in a white uniform with her long and wavy honey-blonde hair put in a low bun, who bowed respectfully towards the door. "Welcome," she greeted with a soft yet clear voice.

She raised her head, her round amber eyes attracted to the unfamiliar middle-aged man who studied the diverse display of namagashi. She rarely saw customers like him in the shop. Toriya was a small, family-owned business that was popular among locals. Tourists rarely frequented, likely due to the fact that the shop was located in a quieter part of Tokyo. And judging by his ironed suit and leather briefcase, he was obviously a well-off white-collar worker not from the area.

"I would like the winter special namagashi set," he said, pointing to an extravagant box of beautifully arranged sweets.

The worker took out a box from underneath the counter. "Your total is 4000 yen. Would you like a bag with that?"

"Yes, thank you."

At his request, she put the goods in a white paper bag that read Toriya in gold. Upon setting the bag on the countertop carefully, she saw that the man had already placed four 1000 yen notes on the plastic tray. She swiftly placed the money in the cash register, and he took the bag.

"Would you like a receipt?"

"No, thank you," he replied and turned to leave.

She bowed to the customer. "Thank you."

When she heard the door close behind him, she leaned back against the wall and looked out the window. It was already the beginning of November. The sun had already set a while ago, leaving the outside world pitch black, and there was maybe half an hour before her shift ended. Unfortunately, what waited for her at her apartment was hours more of studying for her calculus exam tomorrow. With nothing else to do, especially since the use of cell phones were banned while she worked, she reviewed calculus concepts in her head.

The tinkering of the bells as the door opened brought her back to reality. Immediately, she bowed towards the customer. "Welcome!"

She looked up and stiffened at the sight of the customer. He looked to be around her age, in his early twenties. The proportions of his face were perfect, nicely framed by his white hair that fell loosely around his face. He was ridiculously tall to the point that he had to lower his head to pass through the door that was six feet tall—he probably had to custom order his dark blue uniform. She could only assume that he was an actor or a model, her speculation further supported by the sunglasses even though it was already night. He was so alluring that she continued to stare at him as he approached the display and crouched down for a better view of the various Japanese confections that were carefully presented.

"Wow, I can't decide. They all look too good," he remarked, still eyeing all of the Japanese sweets. His voice sounded as perfect as he looked.

The employee gestured towards the namagashi. "The namagashi is our specialty."

His gaze traveled to the colorful assortment of namagashi. "Hmm," he hummed in distress. Every one of them were beautifully shaped into natural motifs in meticulous detail, including persimmons, camellias, and plums. "They're too pretty to be eaten."

A hint of an amused smile appeared briefly on her face. "Then I would recommend daifuku."

At her recommendation, the customer looked at the round mochis. She had suggested daifuku, but there were many variations of this mochi—plain daifuku, mame daifuku, strawberry daifuku—and they all looked equally delicious. He laughed lightheartedly. "Man, I'm troubled."

"You cannot go wrong with plain daifuku," she suggested.

He stood up from his crouching position, his towering height intimidating her. He was more or less one foot taller than her, who reached at most five foot three.

The man then looked at her and suddenly, she felt uncomfortable. "Then...I'll have three plain daifuku," he requested, holding up three fingers.

"Okay," the worker replied and immediately began placing the mochis into a paper box. She could not put a finger on her feelings. Was she just nervous because she was in the presence of a celebrity? "Would you like a bag?" she asked once she finished taping the box shut.

He once again looked at her. "Yes, please."

His sunglasses obstructed her view of his eyes, but her instinct affirmed that it was his eyes that caused her unease. She carefully placed the box inside the bag and placed it on top of the counter. "Your total is 300 yen."

He pulled out his wallet from his pocket and fished for coins. Eventually, he placed a 500 yen coin on the tray.

She took the tray. "From 500 yen..." She deposited the coin into the register, "Your change will be 200 yen."

She placed two 100 yen coins onto the same tray and placed it in front of the customer. He took the coins and put them into his wallet, which he soon shoved back into his pocket.

"Would you like a receipt?"

"Nah, I'm good." He grabbed the bag and turned around to leave.

She bowed formally. "Thank you."

The uncomfortable feeling she experienced was gone, and she looked up to see his leaving figure. His hand was about to reach for the door when she called out to him, "Customer." He stopped and turned around to look at the woman who then averted her eyes to the ground.

"Um, this is just my personal request, but—" She looked back at him. "—can I see your eyes?"

It was not an unusual request for him. "Sure," he replied with a smile. He took off his sunglasses and looked at the woman, expecting a blush or even a squeal, but she merely smiled and bowed in thanks. He put his sunglasses back on and left the shop.

His smile vanished when he stepped outside. He did not miss how her eyes widened ever so slightly when he revealed his eyes. It was a fleeting moment, but it was enough for him to recognize the emotion on her face. After all, it was something he saw very often in his line of work.

Fear. That was what she felt when those eyes looked at—no, through her.