Date: April 29, 2025

  I was going to be objective about this.

  At least, that’s what I told myself.

  Yesterday had been about noticing. About stepping back and observing.

  Today?

  Today was about something else.

  Today, I was paying attention to how they reacted.

  Because life wasn’t perfect. Work wasn’t predictable.

  And if I was going to be logical about this—if I was really going to collect data—then I needed to know:

  Who handled chaos better?

  And, more importantly—who handled me better when I was caught in it?

  Tuesday, 9:15 AM – The Chaos Begins

  Client Office

  The Tokyo client office was sleek, glass-walled, and eerily silent in the mornings—just the hum of air conditioning and the occasional keyboard clicking.

  A sharp contrast to TechJolt’s usual organized chaos.

  Leo had already settled in, arms stretched behind his head, looking every bit like he belonged here.Tuesday, 1:10 PM – The Unexpected Detour

  Just as we were gaining momentum, just as things were finally coming together—

  The office printer broke.

  Normally, this wouldn’t be my problem. But this wasn’t a normal day.

  The contract that needed signing? The one that the client CEO was expecting within the hour?

  It was still sitting in the queue of a suddenly very non-functional printer.

  I groaned. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  Hannah looked just as irritated. “Someone needs to find a print shop. Now.”

  I barely had time to process what that meant before Leo stretched. “Guess that’s us, huh, Spoon Girl?”

  I turned sharply. “Why us?”

  Leo grinned. “Because Ethan is knee-deep in model recalibrations, and I have nothing better to do.”

  That part was true. Ethan was deep in focus, completely locked into whatever he was debugging.

  I sighed. “Fine.”

  Leo was already grabbing his jacket. “Let’s go on an adventure.”

  I had a bad feeling about this.

  Tuesday, 1:30 PM – The Train Mishap

  Finding a print shop should have been easy.

  It wasn’t.

  Somehow, Leo and I ended up on the wrong train.

  “This isn’t our stop,” I said, staring at the unfamiliar station.

  Leo looked at the map above the doors. “Huh.”

  I turned slowly. “Huh?”

  Leo scratched his jaw. “Might’ve gotten a little distracted.”

  I exhaled through my nose. “Leo.”

  He held up his hands. “Hey, Tokyo train maps are confusing.”

  I groaned, checking my phone. “We’re wasting time.”

  Leo nudged my shoulder. “Relax. We’ll get there.”

  I gave him a look. “Do you even know where ‘there’ is?”

  Leo grinned. “Eventually.”

  I wanted to scream.

  Tuesday, 1:45 PM – The Rain Problem

  Because the universe hates me, the moment we stepped off at the right stop—

  It started pouring.

  Hard.

  Leo and I ran for cover under the awning of a tiny corner shop, rain drenching our clothes within seconds.

  I panted, shaking water from my sleeves. “Perfect. Just perfect.”

  Leo, meanwhile, just laughed, completely unbothered as he raked a hand through his soaked hair. “Man, it really doesn’t want us to finish this errand, huh?”

  I glared at him. “This is your fault.”

  Leo grinned. “I like to think of it as our adventure.”

  I groaned. “This is not an adventure. This is an inconvenience.”

  Leo leaned against the wall beside me, his smile never fading. “Depends on how you look at it.”

  I opened my mouth to argue—

  Then he reached out.

  And brushed a raindrop off my cheek.

  A single, fleeting touch—his thumb against my skin, warm despite the cold.

  I froze.

  My breath caught.

  Leo tilted his head slightly, watching me like he was waiting for something.

  Then—so casually I almost missed it—he murmured, “Told you this would be fun.”

  And just like that, my stomach flipped.

  I shouldn’t have felt anything.

  But I did.

  And that was the problem.

  Tuesday, 2:05 PM – The Moment I Shouldn’t Have Noticed

  The rain still hadn’t let up.

  Leo and I had taken refuge in the tiny corner shop, waiting for the downpour to slow enough so we could run the rest of the way. The shop was small, cramped, filled with shelves stocked with instant noodles, rice crackers, and convenience store sweets.

  Leo, completely unfazed by our current predicament, was casually browsing a display of snacks like we weren’t still on the clock for work.

  “Leo.” I sighed, wiping at my still-dripping sleeves. “We need to get moving.”

  Leo hummed, unbothered. “Nah, we have a few minutes. No point in running into the rain again just to show up looking like wet rats.”

  I gave him a look. “We are wet rats.”

  Leo smirked. “You say that, but I still look good.”

  I rolled my eyes, ignoring the small, irritating part of me that agreed.

  Instead, I focused on the task at hand—pulling out my phone and mapping the nearest print shop. My hair was still damp, my jacket sticking uncomfortably to my arms. I was cold, and we were late, and Leo was—

  I felt him shift beside me.

  I turned.

  He was watching me.

  Not in his usual way—not with the teasing glint, not with the overconfident smirk.

  It was something else. Something quieter.

  Something that made my stomach do something weird.

  And then—he moved.

  Just slightly. Just enough.

  His fingers grazed my wrist as he slipped something into my hand.

  I blinked down.

  A pack of hand warmers.

  Leo leaned against the shelf beside me, shrugging like it was nothing. “Figured you’d still be cold.”

  I stared at it.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  Then at him.

  I opened my mouth—ready to say what? I didn’t even know—

  Then he grinned. “And don’t say I don’t take things seriously.”

  And just like that—just as quickly as he had shifted—Leo was back.

  Back to effortless, teasing, infuriatingly Leo.

  He turned back to the snack aisle, plucking something off the shelf, like he hadn’t just done that.

  Like I wasn’t now hyper-aware of the small, sealed pack of warmth pressed between my fingers.

  I swallowed.

  I should’ve let it go.

  But for some reason, I tucked the pack into my pocket instead.

  Tuesday, 2:30 PM – The Return

  By the time we finally made it back to the client office, I was cold, damp, and mentally exhausted.

  The print shop fiasco had taken twice as long as it should have, the rain had drenched everything that wasn’t safely zipped into my bag, and I was too aware of the weight of the hand warmers in my pocket.

  I wasn’t even that cold anymore.

  But I still held onto them.

  Like I wasn’t ready to let the warmth go just yet.

  I stepped into the conference room, sighing in relief at the blast of warm air.

  Ethan glanced up from his laptop. His eyes flicked over me—down to my soaked sleeves, my slightly messy hair.

  Then—just as quickly—back to his screen.

  “Good trip?” he asked, tone neutral.

  I groaned, dropping my bag onto the chair. “It was a trip.”

  Leo strolled in behind me, stretching like he hadn’t just led us through a series of minor disasters.

  “You’re welcome,” he said casually.

  I shot him a look. “For what?”

  Leo winked. “Keeping you entertained.”

  I wanted to throttle him.

  Instead, I sank into my seat, rubbing my temples as Hannah looked between the two of us, unimpressed.

  “Do I even want to know?” she asked dryly.

  “No,” I said immediately.

  “Yes,” Leo countered at the same time.

  Hannah sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Fine. Just—get ready for the 4 PM review. And try not to cause any more chaos before then.”

  Leo grinned. “Can’t make any promises.”

  I groaned again, leaning back in my chair.

  I needed a break.

  Tuesday, 4:00 PM – The Meeting I Barely Survived

  I was still cold.

  Despite the blast of heat in the conference room, the damp chill from earlier clung to me, sinking into my bones. My socks were still vaguely wet, my sleeves were still uncomfortably damp, and worst of all—Leo was still smug.

  He had spent the last twenty minutes stretching in his chair like he hadn’t just dragged me halfway across the city through the rain.

  I pressed my lips together, doing my best to ignore him.

  Samantha leaned over slightly. “So,” she murmured, eyes flicking between me and Leo. “Did you two have fun?”

  I exhaled sharply. “Define fun.”

  Eric, who was seated on my other side, snorted under his breath. “That bad?”

  I crossed my arms. “Let’s just say I learned a lot about Leo’s ‘go with the flow’ problem-solving method.”

  Leo, completely unbothered, leaned back in his chair. “And did we get the document signed?”

  I gritted my teeth. “Yes.”

  Leo grinned. “Then what are you complaining about?”

  I resisted the urge to throw my notebook at his face.

  Instead, I muttered, “You’re the worst,” under my breath and focused on the meeting.

  Hannah was going through the remaining action items for the week, outlining the next client deliverables before we wrapped up the Tokyo trip.

  I should have been paying attention.

  But out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ethan.

  He wasn’t looking at me.

  But he was looking at Leo.

  Not openly. Not obviously.

  But watching.

  Like he had noticed something.

  And for some reason, that sent a jolt through me.

  Tuesday, 6:15 PM – The Dinner Plans I Didn’t Want to Think About

  By the time the meeting ended, my brain was fried.

  I slumped back in my chair as Samantha stretched beside me. “Alright. Dinner plans?”

  Leo, who had miraculously survived the meeting without getting scolded by Hannah, perked up immediately. “We should go somewhere good.”

  Eric yawned. “Define good.”

  Leo smirked. “Somewhere with drinks.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Of course.”

  Samantha grinned, already pulling up options on her phone. “Ooh, what about that izakaya near the hotel? The one with all the skewers?”

  Eric nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

  Leo turned to me. “What about you, Spoon Girl? You in?”

  I hesitated.

  I should go.

  It would be weird if I didn’t go.

  But between the cold, the rain, and the fact that I was still processing the fact that Leo had casually handed me hand warmers like it was nothing—

  I wasn’t sure if I had the energy to sit across from him all night.

  Before I could answer, a voice cut in smoothly.

  “She’s tired.”

  I turned.

  Ethan.

  He was already packing up his laptop, his tone calm, unreadable.

  Leo raised an eyebrow. “You answering for her now?”

  Ethan didn’t react. Just glanced at me. “Are you coming?”

  I hesitated.

  And I hated that I hesitated.

  Because they were both watching.

  Waiting.

  I swallowed. “Yeah. I’ll go.”

  Leo smirked. “Good. It wouldn’t be fun without you.”

  Ethan said nothing.

  But I felt him watching.

  Tuesday, 6:45 PM – The Dinner I Should Have Skipped

  Another night, another izakaya. Like the night before, this one was warm, loud, and filled with the scent of grilled skewers and sizzling meat.

  It was the kind of place where the energy settled into your skin, where the hum of conversation and the clink of glasses blended into something effortless.

  I should have been exhausted.

  Instead, I was wired.

  Still slightly chilled from the rain earlier, still too aware of the hand warmers now sitting in my coat pocket.

  I had planned to ignore them.

  But now, as we sat down for dinner, I felt it again.

  The shift.

  The way I was noticing things more.

  The way I was noticing them more.

  Tuesday, 7:12 PM – The Attention Shift

  It was inevitable.

  Leo, for all his chaos, was magnetic.

  He had that easy, effortless charm that made people gravitate toward him. And now, sitting at the table, slightly damp from the rain, his sleeves pushed up, hair still tousled—he looked entirely in his element.

  Which meant, of course, that people were noticing.

  Specifically, one of the clients.

  I had met her briefly earlier—a project lead from the client’s UX team. Her name was Misako, with long curly waves and sharp eyes and full lips. She was polished, confident, and dressed in an expensive-looking jumpsuit that was tight in all the right places without being revealing. Just your average self esteem nightmare.

  And she was very clearly interested in Leo.

  I wasn’t watching.

  (Not really.)

  The way she angled her body toward him. The way she lightly touched his arm when she laughed. The way she asked him small, personal questions between drinks.

  And Leo?

  Leo played along.

  Not obnoxiously. Not overly.

  Just enough.

  Just enough to make her think she had his full attention.

  Just enough to make it look like she did.

  Except I saw it.

  The way, between her questions, his gaze flicked to me.

  Like he was checking.

  Like he was waiting for something.

  Like he was testing something.

  And something in my stomach twisted in irritation. Because it was a test and I hated that I even noticed.

  Tuesday, 7:34 PM – The Difference

  Meanwhile, across the table, Ethan was entirely unbothered.

  It wasn’t that women weren’t paying attention to him.

  It was that he simply didn’t react to it.

  A number of the other women from the client side at the izakaya were clearly interested—eyes lingering a little too long when one refilled his drink, another in the way she complimented his Japanese pronunciation even though it was objectively terrible.

  Ethan barely acknowledged it.

  Not dismissively. Not rudely. Just neutrally.

  Like it wasn’t even worth engaging.

  Or rather—he ignored all of it, except for me.

  I noticed it now—the way his attention never wavered, the way he didn’t play games.

  The way, when I shifted slightly in my seat, his gaze flicked toward me straight away.

  Like I was the only thing in the room worth noting.

  And it was comforting. But, the tiniest part of me kept tugging me back to another corner of the table where there were too many laughs, too many sidelong looks, and a smirk that came and went too easily.

  Tuesday, 8:05 PM – The Woman Who Wasn’t Meant to Matter

  Leo was still talking to the client.

  Still playing the game.

  Still making sure I noticed that he was playing the game.

  I pressed my lips together and turned away.

  And immediately regretted it, because I ended up looking right at Ethan.

  He met my eyes, and glanced past me at Leo.

  My fingers curled slightly against my lap.

  He didn’t say anything at first.

  I let out a slow breath and tried to push down whatever this feeling was.

  And then just as I was about to turn back, Ethan leaned slightly towards me.

  So slightly that no one else noticed.

  Just enough that I caught the faintest brush of his shoulder.

  And then, voice low, smooth, deliberate—

  “You don’t have to look,” he murmured.

  My stomach dropped. I felt that too much.

  I swallowed. “What?”

  Ethan didn’t elaborate. Didn’t smirk. Didn’t tease. Just waited.

  Like he already knew I understood.

  Like he wasn’t offering an explanation, he was offering an out.

  And that made something inside me clench uncomfortably.

  I didn’t look back at Leo for the rest of the night.

  Tuesday, 9:15 PM

  The noise of the restaurant had started to press in.

  It wasn’t unbearable—just too much. The overlapping conversations, the clinking of glasses, the low thrum of music beneath it all.

  I was tired.

  Not just from the day. From the whole trip. From the long hours, the time difference, the endless game of keeping up. My body still hadn’t fully adjusted, my brain foggy at the edges, and the warmth of the sake I had barely touched wasn’t helping.

  And yet—

  My attention kept dragging back.

  To the far end of the table.

  To Leo.

  And her.

  The woman from the client team—smiling, leaning in, fingers grazing his sleeve when she laughed at something he said.

  I had told myself I wasn’t going to look.

  And yet—

  I had.

  More than once.

  I needed air.

  Hannah was still in deep conversation with a few of the senior engineers. Samantha and Eric were caught up in their own conversation, heads bent together over something on one of their phones. Ethan had just been pulled into a quiet discussion with one of the client-side developers.

  No one would notice if I left.

  So I did.

  Slipping my phone into my pocket, I stood, weaving my way between tables and stepping out into the night before I could think twice about it.

  The cold hit me instantly.

  Not freezing, but crisp enough to send a shiver down my spine.

  I exhaled, rolling my shoulders, stretching out muscles that had been stiff from sitting too long.

  Then, almost automatically, I reached into my pocket.

  My fingers curled around the hand warmers.

  I pulled them out, pressing them between my palms, rubbing my hands over them absently. The heat seeped through my skin, comforting, steady.

  I wasn’t even that cold.

  But still—I held onto them.

  And that was when I heard it.

  Light. Playful. Except… not quite.

  “Didn’t like that, huh?”

  I froze.

  I turned slowly.

  Leo was leaning against the doorway, half in shadow, half in the glow of the restaurant’s lanterns.

  His expression was unreadable.

  “The client,” he mused, too casual. “Didn’t like that she liked me?”

  I scoffed, crossing my arms. “Wow. I didn’t realize your ego needed a business-class ticket too.”

  Leo smirked, but it wasn’t quite right.

  Not his usual cocky amusement. Not the effortless charm he always carried.

  It was something else.

  Something quieter.

  Like he wasn’t just teasing me.

  Like he was watching. Measuring. Trying to find an answer he wasn’t sure he wanted.

  I huffed, shaking my head. “Don’t flatter yourself, Leo.”

  And I turned to leave.

  But before I could take a step, his voice dropped lower.

  Softer.

  “You still have it.”

  I froze.

  He was looking at the hand warmers in my hands.

  Leo’s smirk faltered for just half a second—barely enough to catch.

  Like he hadn’t expected me to still have them.

  Like he wasn’t sure what to do with that knowledge.

  Like he hadn’t actually expected me to keep them.

  And I couldn’t explain why that made my stomach twist.

  I didn’t like the way he looked at me, like he had found something he hadn’t meant to.

  Like he wasn’t sure what to do with it.

  I just kept thinking about the way he had laughed with that woman. How he had brushed away the water from my face, halting my breath. Then how easily he had smirked at me across the table, like nothing about today mattered.

  You don’t have to look.

  Ethan’s voice, echoing in my head.

  I curled my fingers tighter around the hand warmers.

  Didn’t respond. Didn’t meet Leo’s gaze.

  I just turned.

  “I’ll walk you back, Spoon Girl.” His voice was quieter now, uncertain in a way that didn’t suit him.

  “I’m fine.”

  Tuesday, 11:00 PM – The Reflection I Didn’t Want to Have

  I stretched out on the hotel bed, fighting fatigue and jet lag.

  My mind should have been blank, but instead, it was running a dull hum.

  With the way Leo had looked at me before handing me the hand warmers earlier today.

  With the way Ethan had quietly offered me an out.

  With the realization that, for all my efforts to collect data, I was now caught in it.

  I sighed, reaching for my phone.

  [Me: How’s Mochi?]

  The response was immediate.

  [Naomi: super happy. Consider not returning home.]

  I huffed a small laugh, staring at the screen.

  [Naomi: You surviving over there?]

  I was about to respond but then I paused, and just held my phone, fingers hovering over the keypad but not typing.

  Was I surviving?

  I stared at my phone for a while, before tossing it aside. I hugged one of the pillows close and found my eyes traveling to the handwarmers on the nightstand. No longer warm.

  It didn’t feel like I was surviving.