Date: April 28, 2025

  When my mom told me to treat this like a work problem, it didn’t seem like the worst idea.

  I needed data.

  I needed to analyze patterns, track behaviors, assess outcomes.

  So today?

  That’s exactly what I was going to do.

  Tuesday, 7:30 AM – A New Perspective

  I had spent so much time between them that I had stopped seeing them.

  But now, I was looking.

  Not just at how Leo and Ethan interacted with me—but how they existed in the world. How they fit into spaces. How other people saw them.

  And what I noticed first?

  They were two entirely different forces.

  Leo Huang, Effortless Gravity

  Leo made existing look easy.

  There was something about him that always felt slightly undone in a way that wasn’t messy but intentional—his hair never quite in place, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up just-so, the casual lean of his body against whatever surface happened to be nearby.

  Tuesday, 9:00 AM – The Client Interactions

  The first meeting of the day was in one of the sleek glass-walled conference rooms, sunlight pouring in from the Tokyo skyline.

  Leo was on full charm mode, leaning back slightly in his chair as he gestured while speaking.

  “See, the issue isn’t the framework—it’s the load distribution,” he was saying, his voice casual, confident. “If we reroute the process threading, we can smooth out the spikes.”

  One of the client engineers, a woman named Rina, nodded eagerly. “That makes sense! But wouldn’t that increase latency?”

  Leo grinned. “Not if we stagger execution. Here—” He leaned forward, tapping at the screen, switching to a different visual model. “This should help clarify it.”

  I watched as Rina leaned in slightly, clearly engaged, her expression shifting from curiosity to admiration.

  Leo thrived on this.

  This wasn’t just about work.

  It was social. Dynamic. A performance.

  And then—

  “And, later,” Ethan’s voice cut in, smooth and even, “we could minimize the pipeline’s processing steps entirely.”

  The room shifted.

  Where Leo had been leading with connection, Ethan disarmed with precision.

  Ethan nodded, scrolling to a different slide. “You’re solving for the load balancing issue, but if we reduce redundant calls at the source, you won’t need to compensate for the overhead later.”

  Silence.

  And then—

  One of the client execs murmured, “That’s… a great long-term solution.”

  I noticed the quick glance between the two of them. Planned.

  I was realizing that this was why they worked so well together.

  Leo won them over first.

  Ethan sealed the deal.

  Tuesday, 12:30 PM – The Lunch Incident

  Lunch was meant to be a casual client outing—an easy opportunity to unwind between meetings.

  We ended up at a quiet restaurant near the office, a modern take on a traditional izakaya with sleek wooden interiors, softly glowing lanterns, and the steady hum of conversation.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  I was seated between Samantha and Eric, with Ethan across from me and Leo a few seats down.

  Halfway through the meal, I started noticing it again.

  The way people reacted to them.

  Leo was in the middle of a story—something funny, something that had the entire table engaged.

  And next to him, a woman from the client team—Rina—was laughing just a little too much, lightly touching his arm when she responded.

  Leo didn’t stop her.

  But then—just as he turned his head slightly—

  His gaze flicked to me.

  Not for long.

  Just long enough.

  And something in my stomach twisted.

  I glanced away quickly, picking up my chopsticks.

  But before I could think too hard about it—

  Another voice cut in.

  “Oh, your Japanese is very good,” the waitress said, smiling down at Leo.

  I glanced up.

  Leo responded easily, switching between languages effortlessly, completely at ease.

  The waitress laughed, then turned slightly, glancing at Ethan.

  I watched as her expression shifted—curious, interested.

  She said something in Japanese.

  Ethan paused, glancing at me briefly before responding in English, polite but firm, “Sorry, I don’t speak Japanese.”

  The waitress hesitated. “Oh,” she said, then tried again in English. “Are you visiting long?”

  Ethan didn’t engage.

  “No,” he said simply.

  And that was it.

  She lingered a second longer, then moved on.

  I exhaled slowly, pressing my lips together.

  And then—like he knew—

  Ethan’s gaze flicked toward me.

  Like he had noticed me noticing.

  And for some reason, that sent a jolt through me that I wasn’t ready for.

  Tuesday, 1:15 PM – The Afternoon Meeting & The Way People Watch

  The second half of the workday passed in a blur of back-to-back discussions.

  I tried to focus, tried to drown out everything but the work in front of me.

  But once I had noticed it, I couldn’t unsee it.

  The way people watched them.

  Leo was easy, effortless, magnetic.

  Ethan was quieter, but his presence filled spaces just the same.

  Leo drew people in.

  Ethan kept them there.

  And both of them—somehow, in their own ways—kept circling back to me.

  By the time we wrapped up for the day, I felt drained.

  Not just from the work, but from everything else.

  Tuesday, 5:45 PM – The Elevator Moment

  The rest of the team took another elevator.

  I stepped into one alone—only to have Ethan follow right after.

  The doors slid shut.

  Silence.

  For the first few seconds, neither of us said anything.

  And then, casually, too casually, “You keep looking at me.”

  My stomach flipped.

  I turned, heart jumping. “What?”

  Ethan’s expression didn’t change. He just watched me, voice even. “You keep looking at both of us with the same face you make when you get a new project.”

  I opened my mouth, then closed it.

  Because he was right.

  The elevator hummed softly as we descended.

  Ethan tilted his head slightly, gaze flickering over me one last time before stepping out first.

  But before he left, “Let me know if you need more data.”

  And just like that, he was gone.

  And I was still standing there, frozen for half a second longer than I should have been.

  7:45 PM – Banter & Observations

  The table was lively.

  Eric and Samantha were debating whether the yakitori or karaage was the superior izakaya snack. Hannah had started a conversation about local restaurants with one of the client engineers. Leo, effortlessly, was everywhere at once, leaning into jokes, seamlessly switching between English and Japanese, pulling laughter out of people without even trying.

  And me?

  I was trying not to watch too much. But it was hard when I had spent all day collecting data.

  Leo fit into spaces like he had always been meant to be there—commanding attention without demanding it, making people feel like they wanted to be around him.

  Ethan was quiet, efficient. He didn’t fight for space in conversations, didn’t fill in silences with unnecessary words. But people turned to him anyway. Not because he entertained, but because when he spoke—he had something worth listening to.

  I wasn’t the only one who had noticed.

  I could see it in the way the client engineers gravitated toward him for input. The way people naturally deferred to his quiet confidence.

  And, apparently, I wasn’t the only one noticing Leo either.

  “Leo,” one of the women from the client’s marketing team said, who looked like she’d walked right out of a skincare modelling ad, nudged him playfully. “You’re so fluent. Did you study in Japan?”

  Leo grinned, tilting his head just slightly, like he was letting her lean closer. “Nah. I’m half Japanese. I picked it up from my mom.”

  The woman hummed, intrigued. “Ah, I see. That explains it.”

  I didn’t love the way she was looking at him.

  Not that it mattered.

  Leo liked attention. He always had.

  And then he glanced at me, and because he’s Leo, he winked.

  I rolled my eyes so hard I was surprised they didn’t fall out of my head.

  Leo grinned.

  I sighed, and went back to my dinner. Just as I picked up my chopsticks, something landed on my plate.

  I blinked.

  A piece of grilled eel.

  Ethan, without looking up from his own plate, was still reaching across the table to get himself another piece.

  It wasn’t deliberate. Not a statement. Not something done for show.

  It was casual. Automatic.

  Like he had done it a hundred times before.

  I hesitated. “I have my own food, you know.”

  Ethan took a bite, unbothered. “You wanted to try this, didn’t you?”

  I gaped at him, “what? How did you know?”

  Ethan didn’t even pause. “You looked at it twice before deciding not to order it.”

  Of course. I couldn’t help but smile as I rubbed the bridge of my nose. Of course he would have noticed.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled sheepishly as I took a bite. My eyebrows shot up at the taste. Damn it. That was good. So much better than the stuff we usually got in the states.

  “Ethan, can you grab me another piece? I can’t reach,” I poked him quickly, noticing that Eric was also honing in on the same dish.

  Ethan barely held back a grin as he complied.

  And just like that, for a little while, the whole day of data gathering melted away.

  10:45 PM – End of Day Reflections

  It was nothing but sheer stubbornness that forced me to shower instead of sleep in my work clothes.

  I flopped into bed, hair still damp, but I didn’t care.

  My body ached, my brain was fried, and my limbs felt weighed down by exhaustion. It wasn’t just the long workday, it was the constant mental effort of keeping up, keeping track, keeping my reactions measured.

  I stretched, rolling onto my back, eyes fluttering shut for just a second.

  The day replayed in my mind: the way Leo soaked in attention like it was air, the way Ethan deflected it without a second thought. The way I kept noticing.

  Not just them.

  The way they interacted with other people.

  The way they interacted with me.

  I reached for my phone, needing a distraction.

  [Me: How’s Mochi?]

  Naomi answered immediately.

  [Naomi: Your child is thriving.]

  She attached a photo of Mochi sprawled across her laptop, looking offended at the existence of work.

  I snorted softly, my lips curving despite my exhaustion.

  [Me: Classic. Tell her I miss her.]

  [Naomi: She knows. She just doesn’t care. How’s Tokyo?]

  I hesitated.

  How was Tokyo?

  I thought about the tea house.

  The way Ethan had looked at me, calm, steady, knowing.

  The way Leo had winked at me over his glass, smug and watchful.

  I thought about the elevator.

  Ethan’s voice, low and amused, “Let me know if you need more data.”

  I inhaled deeply, pressing the phone against my chest for a second before typing back.

  [Me: It’s… interesting.]

  Naomi sent a single emoji.

  [Naomi: ??]

  I laughed, a sound half mirth, half pain, tossing my phone onto the nightstand.

  I was too tired for this.

  I pulled the blankets over my head, willing my brain to stop thinking.

  Tomorrow, I’d do it all over again.

  And I still had no idea what the hell I was supposed to do with that data anyway.