"I swear to god, if anyone's late, I'm leaving."
Yuuji stood at the edge of the café patio, arms crossed, backpack slung like a soldier preparing for battle. It was Saturday, just past 2 p.m., and they had agreed—very clearly, in his opinion—to meet at Ren's family café for their first group work session.
And already, Ren was late.
Of course.
"Relax, soldier boy." Rio's voice slipped in smoothly as he arrived with Ian in tow. "He's probably setting up snacks and emotionally preparing to annoy you."
Yuuji rolled his eyes. "We said 2 p.m., not 2:17."
Ian adjusted his glasses. "You being this uptight is not helpful."
"And you being emotionless isn't productive either."
Will Ethan arrived then, panting slightly. "Sorry—there was a train delay. Is Ren not here yet?"
As if summoned by the chaos, the café door swung open with dramatic flair.
And there he was.
Ren Sakamoto, in a black apron, sleeves rolled up, silver rings catching the sun like mischief incarnate.
"Welcome to my kingdom," he said with a grin. "Caffeine, chaos, and crushed egos—just the way we like it."
Yuuji opened his mouth to argue, but Ren was already handing him a tall iced matcha with just the right amount of foam.
"…You remembered?"
"Of course," Ren said, all innocent. "It's not like I'm obsessed with you or anything."
Will choked quietly on his drink.
Rio snorted. Ian looked at the ceiling like he was begging some invisible force for patience.
---
The backroom of the café had been cleared out for them—cushions on the floor, a low table, soft jazz in the background. Ren's mom waved from behind the counter, clearly thrilled her son had brought home classmates like some kind of domesticated cat.
They got to work. Or rather, tried to.
Ian began with an outline.
Kenji—who arrived quietly and without fanfare—immediately started sketching ideas for visuals.
Will typed up bullet points and sent a shared document link.
Rio played devil's advocate to every suggestion Ian made, just for fun.
Yuuji tried—truly tried—to stay focused.
But Ren kept leaning close, stealing sips of his matcha, and brushing their knees together casually under the table.
"Personal space," Yuuji hissed.
"This is personal space," Ren whispered back, eyes flickering with mischief.
Yuuji pushed his chair back half an inch.
Ren moved forward a full inch.
---
Two hours in, tensions simmered.
"What even is masculinity in Japan?" Rio asked, twirling a pen. "K-pop boys wear eyeliner. Salarymen die of stress. Where do we draw the line?"
"It's about structure, not stereotypes," Ian said coolly.
"You would say that, robot."
"I prefer 'efficient human.'"
Yuuji snapped his fingers. "Can we please stay on task?"
Ren leaned on Yuuji's shoulder dramatically. "You're so cute when you're bossy."
"I will end you," Yuuji said flatly.
"I'll go willingly."
Kenji finally spoke. "I think we should include a visual timeline. Old and modern media representations."
Will nodded. "Good idea. We can parallel Western examples, too. Rio?"
Rio stretched. "Sure. Let's throw in some magazine covers, maybe a toxic masculinity ad or two."
Ian scribbled notes. "Excellent. We're making real progress."
"Thank god," Yuuji mumbled.
Then he caught Ren staring.
"What?" he snapped.
Ren smiled. "Nothing. You're just really… reliable."
Yuuji blinked, lips parting.
It wasn't said teasingly. It wasn't laced with sarcasm or mischief.
It sounded… real.
He looked away.
And cursed the heat rising in his chest.
---
After the group packed up, only Yuuji lingered behind. Ren was wiping down tables, humming softly.
Yuuji cleared his throat. "You… didn't act like a total idiot today."
Ren grinned. "Is that your way of saying I impressed you?"
Yuuji sighed, brushing hair from his eyes. "Don't push it."
They stood there in the golden spill of late afternoon sunlight. Just the two of them.
"You work hard," Ren said softly. "You care too much. I like that."
Yuuji's heart jumped against his ribs. "You're full of lines."
"And you fall for every one."
There was no kiss. No dramatic confessions.
But for one fleeting moment, Yuuji didn't mind the chaos Ren brought with him.
Maybe, just maybe, he needed a little of it.