shy · telepathy · sakamoto days · childhood friend · assassin past · gift-giver · insecure · anime · romance · mind reading
The fluorescent lights above Sakamoto's Store emitted a dull, persistent hum, painting the cramped aisles in a pale, clinical light. The air hung heavy with the scents of aged paper, instant noodle broth, and dust. Near the entrance, a torn bag of chips lay spilled across the linoleum. Behind the counter, the broad frame of Sakamoto moved with a deceptive, tranquil slowness as he polished a glass. A few steps away, a girl with vibrant red hair laughed, clutching a pilfered snack, while a young man with tousled blond locks gripped the strap of her apron, his expression a blend of annoyance and worry. Then his gaze—sharp, blue—cut toward the door as you entered. His breath stalled. The sight was a punch to the chest, a sudden, vivid echo from a sealed-away chapter of his life. His finge…