Chapter 1

Japan’s blistering summer sun beamed over Tokyo, though the day was already coming to an end. For many, if not all, residents, the heat was an unwanted battle. For publishing editor Takumi, this was a battle he was losing. Sweat dripping down the back of his neck, through the collar of his shirt and down his back, causing his skin to stick and rub against his pure cotton shirt.

As he walked along the path through the park, he ran a hand through his charcoal hair, cringing as sweat slicked it back, keeping his bangs from his eyes. He kept his gaze straight ahead, focused solely on returning to his air-conditioned apartment, which was coming into view yet still seemed so far away. He smacked his lips together. Takumi was unsure whether he would make it home before dehydrating. His gaze wandered, seeking his oasis, and hidden in the shade behind the public facilities, there it was… a vending machine.

His pace quickened, though not by much, as the heat continued to push back. As he walked, Takumi spotted a man with messy hair and thick glasses sitting on a nearby bench. His legs bouncing, Takumi presumed, was nerves. Trying to ignore the man, Takumi entered his money, clicking the button for his desired beverage, and as it dispensed, he looked back around to the man, who was now fidgeting with his hands while his leg continued to bounce.

Takumi raised a brow, turning back and leaning down to grab his drink. He pulled back the tab, the sound of the soda fizzing filled him with excitement and as the bubbles hit his tongue and the refreshing coolness of the liquid passed through him, Takumi felt like a new man. A refreshed man.

He leant against the wall, staying in the shade of his oasis as he found himself looking at the fidgety man again. There were only two reasons he could think of as to why someone, why a man, would be so anxious; either he has a date, or he’s been dumped. Taking in the fidgety man’s physique, Takumi could only assume he had just been dumped.

As he took slow sips of his, Takumi continued to watch the fidgety man, thinking that maybe he could have been wrong. Maybe he was really waiting for someone. In this world, there was someone for everyone. Takumi scoffed, shaking his head. Nonsense.

The concept of ‘someone for everyone’ would mean there was someone for him; so why was he still single?

If he was so cynical, why was he staying?

As he continued sipping his soda, in the corner of his eye, Takumi saw the flash of a bright yellow sunhat coming up beside him and the flurry of a white sundress. He looked down from the corner of his eye, watching as the person beside him chose a couple of drinks, a smile peaking out from under the hat. Two drinks? He pondered watching the person scoop up the drinks before running off to the bench where the fidgety man sat.

Upon seeing her, the man sat up straight, his eyes lighting up as the woman handed him a drink. The way her hair swayed over her shoulders, her blue eyes that glistened as the sun hit them… could this woman be the fidgety man’s ‘someone’? Takumi continued to observe as the woman opened the bottle of water and held it to the man’s mouth, encouraging him to take long sips.

Takumi couldn’t believe what he saw.

His mouth twitched, some fidgety otaku was able to get such a woman, and here he was, a successful publishing editor in his mid-30’s, with no one. With a growl, Takumi scrunched up the water bottle, tossing it idly into the trash can as he exited the park, eager to get away from a sickening sweet scene.

The fidgety looked around as the sound of the water bottle bouncing off the trash can caught his attention. “Did you hear that?” He asked.

His date giggled, shaking her head. “The only thing I want to hear is you drinking up,” she spoke softly and held the rim of the bottle up to his lips.

Takumi felt his eye twitch as he heard her speak. She even spoke like an angel. How much more taunting could the world be to him right now? His mind continued to race, repeating the same question. How did a man like that score a date with an angel? The only type of women he ever attracted were gold diggers obsessed with looks and his status.

The sound of her laughter died down the further he walked away from the ‘couple’; instead, his mind went back to the unbearable heat, and he wanted to enjoy the feeling of his air-conditioned apartment.

The cold air hit him like a ton of bricks as he opened his apartment door. There was nothing more satisfying than the feeling of cold air against scorching skin. Takumi dropped his bag to the floor, quickly raising his hands and whipping off his tie, throwing it across his side table as he flopped backwards onto his sofa.

Beside his tie on the table also sat his answering machine, with a small red flashing light alerting him to a voice message. Takumi grumbled, leaning over to press play. There were only two people who cared enough to leave him a message, and seeing as he spent all afternoon with one of these people. That left him with only one culprit:

“Takumi, honey, it’s mommy.”

His mother…

His birth giver and the constant prod into his love life, calling, yet again, to set him up. One would think, it’s his mother, she’s doing it with all the right intentions, right?

“Takumi, I have a friend with a wonderful daughter, who is just right for you.” Takumi rolled his eyes, speaking on beat with his mother’s message. “She’s a looker and one of those influencers...”

The message, and her high shrilled voice, started to become white noise the longer it went on. It was the same message every time. She has a friend who has a daughter, and she thinks they would be ‘perfect’ together. When the messages were occasional, they were bearable; however, once he hit 30, she turned up the frequency, and now Taumi found himself deleting the same message at least once a week.

His leg began to bounce as his mother droned on about this girl's charming features, but he’d heard it all before. No matter how charming this potential match may be, they couldn’t be anything compared to the angel in the park.

However, that angel had fallen, fallen for some unkempt, fidgety otaku while his mother’s words were here belittling him.

The message ended with a beep, and with a groan, Takumi pushed himself off the sofa, grabbing his wallet and keys. He needed to numb his brain, and in the smouldering heat, nothing sounded better than an ice-cold beer.