𓐐 : kyoto

@❛ ✧ : park taejoon his words take her back to the clinic—her most recent visit to the doctor, a few months ago. initially, she had gone to see the physician about her chronic fatigue, wondering if she was anemic again (she hadn't been taking her iron pills properly). the constant tiredness had been irritating—annoying to her, as it had been interfering with her life—from working overtime. her livelihood had began to fluctuate drastically. some days, she had felt like her usual self, and then the very next day, she wouldn't. things that had usually taken her mind off things, no longer did. it had frustrated her, and she didn't know why. she had felt stuck.

she had expected a low hemoglobin level and prescription for ferrous fumarate, but shockingly, the doctor had handed her a referral to the psychiatrist instead. she had been stunned at the diagnosis, coming home to stare blankly at the referral paper for hours on end. she didn't understand it—her life wasn't perfect, but it was certainly decent. she had a home, a good career, and a potential promotion even on the way. it was like she had been in denial.

"hm. maybe." goya said dismissively, rolling the pad of her thumb back and forth over the home screen of her phone. suddenly, she looked back to the window. goya just realized that screen of her phone was also reflected onto the window. she cursed at herself internally. the ramen shop employee had probably seen all of it—her facade, her signs of anxiousness. she awkwardly then met his eyes once more, in the reflections.

to her luck, the train's p.a system saves her; letting her know that it's her stop—their stop. goya remembered, he too, got off at the arriving station. the latter even walked in the same direction as her...

"well, it was nice talking to you." goya quickly said, giving him a polite smile. "my stop." she added, pretending as if she wasn't totally and completely already aware that they were headed in the same way. although it was only a 15 minute walk from the train station, goya was honestly debating splurging on a taxi, just so she could avoid further conversation.

@❛ ❀ : na goya Taejoon watched her reflection in the glass, her expression softened by the muted light from the train, her words hanging between them in the quiet space they’d built. He took in what she said, each phrase resonating in a way that left a quiet weight resting on his chest. “I prefer to be alone,” she’d said firmly, though her tone had gentled just after, almost as if she hadn’t meant to let that edge slip through.

A faint tension built in his hands, his fingers tapping against his knee as he took a slow breath. There was something strangely familiar in her words, a perspective he recognized well—the belief that keeping things to yourself was somehow better for everyone. He couldn’t say he disagreed; if anything, he’d lived by that principle for as long as he could remember. But the way she’d phrased it, how she’d admitted it without fully claiming it, left him wondering if she’d spent as long convincing herself as he had.

After a moment, he nodded slightly, his gaze dropping to the worn grooves in the train floor. “Yeah... guess it’s easier to think like that sometimes,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Stubbornness, maybe. Or just…” He let his words trail off, lips pressing into a faint, thoughtful line.

He wasn’t sure why, but there was something he wanted to say, something he felt might resonate with her, if only a little. “But I wonder if... maybe it’s not always as heavy for the people who care about us as we think it is.” The words were quiet, almost tentative, as he glanced back to the window, letting his gaze settle on their blurred reflections. He let the thought linger, unsure if it was one he even fully believed but wanting to leave it out there, for her to take or leave as she wanted.

@❛ ✧ : park taejoon She took his slight break of attention towards her to start wiping down the front counter, spraying, wiping, spraying, wiping. Just idly moving herself in calm motions to hopefully get a hold of the residual shakes that have taken over her. Rei lifts her gaze up to meet his again, pausing mid-wipe of the counter. "Mmm," how, oh how...

"Black with one packet of hot cocoa. Even better if you add a splash of milk." Especially on a cold night, or morning. And it was turning out to be one from the breeze that kicks through the door. The sounding *ding* of the bell alerts her to a customer, a regular elderly woman. With a quick hello towards her, she turns back towards Taejoon. "What's your name, by the way? I'm Rei." If he forgot from looking at her ID... Or her nametag. "Maybe we can stop for some coffee sometime, or lunch, my treat. Even more than the free coffee I'd get you, too." Accompanied with a nervous laugh, she puts the squirt bottle away, and tucks the towel under the counter.

"There's a great place around the corner from here."

@❛ ✧ : park taejoon using the window, goya observed him. the bright florescent lighting within the train casted their reflections in a lit hue, standing in contrast against the darkened scenery of kyoto in the evening. she gauged his reactions, without having to meet eyes with the other. the latter possessed perseverance, this she had to credit and applaud him for. the majority of people wouldn't have appreciated her outspoken humor, but he had, putting up with it.

she was finally able to look right at him. "i prefer to be alone—" goya started firmly, but paused. "it is easier..." she then added, retracting the sternness from her tone of voice. goya paused again, but only briefly this time. she thought of saying more, maybe even something more encouraging than her deflective humor, but she decided against it. her social battery was already depleted from the interviews she had gone through today. unfortunately for the familiar face, it was bad timing, he was getting the last straws of her goodwill. "i don't know if it's always selfish, but i think it's because a lot of people don't want to burden their loved ones?... or people close to them. some people are also really stubborn."

she offered the statement, then didn't know what to do with herself next. although it was a relatively generic sentiment, it made goya feel awkward. for no reason, she pretended to check her phone, as if she had just received a notification, simply unlocking her screen, only to aimlessly lock thereafter. deep down, she knew why she felt uncomfortable—she just refused to acknowledge it. the answers were a mix of her own feelings too.

@❛ ❀ : yukishiro rei Coffee would be great—if he weren’t already running late for work.

Just as he parted his lips to respond, a familiar buzz against his leg stopped him. Taejoon slipped his phone from his pocket, the screen lighting up with a message: “Sorry for the short notice, but would you like to take the day off? Labor’s high right now.” He blinked, tapping a quick thumbs-up in response before tucking the device away and returning his gaze to the woman in front of him.

“Coffee would be great.” A grateful smile played at the corners of his mouth. And while the offer was hers to give, he’d never accept kindness without returning it. “How do you take yours?”

@❛ ✧ : park taejoon Ease was slowly seeping back into her, the gaggle of people accumulated must have deterred regulars that would stop by at that time, giving the shop an unusually calm atmosphere in these early bird hours. Rei slides the wallet the rest of the way over towards her before pocketing it, making sure that it indeed went into her back pocket. It's time to invest in the lanyards she saw people walking around with.

"If you want anything from the store, please feel free to grab it. Coffee is in the back, second door to the left for cold, or a hot coffee is just across that counter to make yourself. If you're wanting *coffee* coffee, like a sit down," a quick look to the time to see when she got off. "Another hour or so before the next clerk comes in to take over for me, and I could bring it by?" There was something familiar, but she couldn't place it—or her brain was trying to match a face to the uncanny savior of the day.

She was definitely getting a coffee for herself, and a much needed nap after this. It helped that he felt calming, and she finally could drop her hands down to save them from their inevitable fate of having cuticles picked apart. A little smile creeps its way onto her lips, and she thinks that this could be, perhaps, a great end to the morning.

Or at least, close enough!

@❛ ❀ : na goya Taejoon lowered himself into the seat across from her, the movement careful, almost wary, as he settled in. He caught her raised brow, the faintest edge of exasperation, and he wondered if he’d misread her earlier, thinking she might need someone to acknowledge the weight she seemed to carry. Maybe he’d crossed a line without meaning to, assuming there was room for someone like him in her carefully guarded silence.

She was right, though, he supposed. He’d long gotten used to “putting up with it,” letting his life slide by, one day bleeding into the next. The steady routine of work and sleep and work again—the habit of keeping everything under the surface so that no one else had to see. But the way she’d called him out, like he was some awkward figure in her line of sight, left a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Fair enough,” he murmured, gaze drifting back to the floor, feeling the edge of his awkwardness soften. He wasn’t sure why he even stayed, letting this small moment stretch between them, but somehow it felt a little less hollow than the usual silence of the train car. Her words had a weight to them that cut through his own passivity, like she knew exactly what it meant to carry things alone.

After a moment, he glanced her way, his voice low. “Guess you’re used to doing things solo too, huh? The ‘deal with it yourself’ routine…” He paused, the faintest hint of warmth in his expression as he looked out the window. “Not sure it’s really that selfish, though. Sometimes it’s just easier.”

@❛ ✧ : park taejoon first impressions. talking about her feelings. vulnerability. they were all subjects that goya miserably failed in. because, she was so used to doing things alone—it was easier to be alone. her hardships were for her own to bear and burden. she would resolve them in her own way, on her own terms. whether it was the ideal solution to her problems, was for her to determine. what did it matter, just as long as she wasn't harming anyone else's livelihood. her life was hers, theirs was theirs. she was selfish in that way, and it was this selfishness that made people around her, leave. without a glimpse into her—how she felt and thought, people didn't know who she truly was. for all they could perceive, she was someone with hidden agendas, someone that would eventually betray them, be their downfall.

she had come to accept it. goya accepted the way people saw her. she could care less. life still went on. it was easier, when people left. it was more difficult for her when people entered—approached her—like him. goya raised her eyebrow in the slightest. she was confused, had she gotten it wrong? she had thought that he had come to her because it had looked like she was having a bad day, not the opposite. goya didn't know who was trying to comfort who. she could tell—that it was hard for him too; forcing smiles he didn't believe in, the emptiness that filled his eyes.

it was also easier to distract, than discuss. "you still do. i fixed mine." goya matter-of-factly pointed out, eyeing his rather awkward stance. "can you just sit... it feels like i'm watching bambi on ice." she then glanced away, looking to the window. "aren't you already used to it? you're putting up with it."

/those/ feelings; feelings of uncertainty. anxiety. they had and were always there, it's just whether they mattered or not anymore. whether /anything/ mattered.

@❛ ❀ : yukishiro rei Taejoon blinked, processing her words as she fidgeted, her fingers hovering near the wallet he still held. He felt a faint, almost amused sympathy; it was clear she’d been thrown off her rhythm entirely, and he couldn’t help but recognize that sense of being stretched thin. Her awkwardness made him feel less out of place—if only by a little.

He let out a soft, barely-there exhale, loosening his grip just enough to slide the wallet back toward her, careful not to look too directly at her as he did. The offer of coffee or an egg sandwich lingered between them, unexpected and almost… endearing, in its own way.

“No need, really,” he replied, his voice low but steady. “Just… glad I could return it.” He paused, not sure if he should just leave it there, but there was a quiet pull—maybe the way she seemed more embarrassed than annoyed, or how tiredness clung to her words like she was dragging herself through each syllable. “But… if you’re sure, maybe a coffee?”

He shrugged, offering a faint, almost apologetic smile, as if to say he wasn’t used to asking for things.

@❛ ❀ : na goya Taejoon noticed the subtle shift in her tone, the way her words carried a faint defensiveness wrapped in a polite smile. He hadn’t meant to overstep; if anything, he’d just been caught up in the faint pull of familiarity, the rare chance to speak to someone he recognized outside of Slurping Bowl’s usual rush. But her response lingered, each word underscoring the walls she kept around herself. He understood that instinct all too well.

He leaned back, letting his gaze fall to his own hands as they rested on the pole, his fingers tapping absently in rhythm with the soft vibrations of the train. The routine was comforting but hollow—a familiar lull that wrapped around him on every commute. Sleeping, working, sleeping, working; days blurred into weeks, each one blending into the next, an endless loop that left him wondering what it all added up to. Most nights, it felt like nothing more than waiting, like he was biding time for something he hadn’t even defined yet.

But tonight, that emptiness felt heavier, somehow. He wasn’t sure if it was her presence—a quiet contrast to the silence he’d grown used to—or simply the reminder that, once the lights dimmed and the shifts ended, they were both left with little more than these hollow routines. Maybe he was hoping for some kind of reassurance, a sign that he wasn’t the only one carrying the weight of that emptiness.

He let out a faint exhale, glancing at her with a quiet, almost self-deprecating half-smile. “Guess we both have bad posture, then.” His voice was soft, but there was a faint weight to it, an unspoken understanding laced beneath the words. He hesitated, the faintest trace of vulnerability flickering across his expression.

“It's... something we'll get used to, right? The routine."

@❛ ✧ : park taejoon "Could I, uhm.. Have that back.. Again?"

With pursed lips and a tight smile, she exhales short breaths, focused on the fact that she was losing all sorts of cool and coming off like a total—"I'm so glad it's almost the end of my morning." Just two more hours, and then a power nap waits for her. "I'm.. Really sorry to have kept you like this. I've been dealing with impatience all morning that I, well." How does she say this?

"Would have expected you to toss the wallet back at me." Rei's eyes finally break from his face, taking note of his attire. "Can I get you anything as a 'thank you'? A coffee? Egg sandwich?" After how many times she'd said thanks—honestly, not enough. She's picking at her cuticles, fingers flinching from reaching out towards her wallet, to back to herself. "Please?" Nerves were a killer thing. Maybe it was the adrenaline wearing down, or the relief slowly starting to wash in from the 'rough start' he mentioned. But she couldn't shake it; there was a feeling in the pit of her stomach, a quite disturbed, shivering sensation, like she was back in grade school, and her peers were pulling at the braids her mother had taken so long to put on her head.

@❛ ✧ : park taejoon damn it, she shouldn't have made eye contact with him. but also, goya didn't understand him... hadn't she made it clear enough that she was going to try and fall asleep?! she didn't know in what culture and language, her body language signalled a green light to further pursue and engage in conversation. secondly, if he had noticed that she looked like she was carrying the weight of the world upon her, then he'd know that she was tired and exhausted—that she needed to rest. not talk, just rest—sleep.

perhaps, the male lacked social awareness. she remained still and quiet for a second longer, before finally giving a response. with a soft sigh, she opened her eyes again. although it was strange that the ramen shop employee was suddenly talking to her like this, goya knew that he was only trying to be kind. it would be easier to just participate, rather than not to. hopefully, with a few more words exchanged, he would then leave her alone. if he had been a total stranger that she knew she wouldn't see again, goya would have probably continued to ignore him. unfortunately, she was going to have to see him again some time in the near future, unless she wanted to give up on her favorite ramen. goya wasn't going to do that. the nakamura special ramen was one of her comfort meals.

"ah, do i?..." she said bashfully, putting on a small smile. "must be my bad posture." goya added, straightening up her slacked posture.

[post deleted by owner]

@❛ ❀ : na goya Taejoon steadied himself, fingers brushing the cold metal of the pole as he lingered in the quiet, her soft reply still hanging in the air. She’d barely looked up—just a flicker of recognition before her gaze fell, as if she’d felt seen in a way she hadn’t meant to be. There was something guarded, almost fragile in her posture, a weight to the silence between them that felt unfamiliar.

He caught her reflection in the window, her face blurred by passing lights and shadows. The fatigue etched in her expression had an edge he recognized—the weariness that sinks deeper than just the strain of a long day, the kind that burrows itself into a person’s bones. It tugged at him, the way the late nights sometimes do, settling somewhere he couldn’t ignore.

He shifted his weight, the quiet hum of the train filling the space between them, and after a moment, he leaned just a little closer. His voice was soft, barely more than a murmur, but steady, laced with the kind of understanding that needed no explanations. “Looks like… you’re carrying more than just today.”

@❛ ❀ : yukishiro rei Taejoon’s fingers closed over the empty air where the wallet had been, realizing she’d tossed it right back at him in her rush to swipe her ID through the register. He stayed where he was, watching as she handled the line, moving with a frantic energy that had every transaction ringing with a kind of quiet desperation. Her relief, so intense it was almost palpable, lingered in the space between them, her attention now shifting to the scattering of coins and bills on the counter.

He considered stepping away, slipping back out to let her gather herself, but his feet didn’t quite move. Instead, he stayed rooted, hands slipping into his pockets as he offered her a small nod. It was hard to ignore the faint tension that still lingered in her expression, like the morning had unraveled in more ways than just a misplaced wallet.

“Looks like… a rough start to the morning,” he said quietly, voice barely carrying over the low hum of the early hour’s customers.

@❛ ✧ : park taejoon as the train began to pick up speed, goya watched the very train station she had been awaiting at, transition into nothing but a passing, fleeting view. from the train's window, the station had merely been all that it was— a mere station. but it was every time she stood on the platform, and the train was slowly approaching, entering the station. goya would look up, turn her head, and stare directly into the oncoming bright lights of the train's headlights— it was like the call of a siren.

she could feel the discomforting dampness of cold sweat against her back. slouching in her seat, with a close of her eyes, she folded her arms across her chest, trying to mentally soothe herself. goya reminded herself that it had been a long day, that she was just exhausted from walking and commuting all over the city, job-hunting. she had handed out her resumé and portfolio to countless employers on end, running to and fro from bus stops.

she opened her eyes, when she heard the sound of a hard stomp nearby. it was as if someone had momentarily lost their balance, before instinctively reacting to regain it. goya peered up, feeling a hovering presence above and by her. recognizing the familiar face in an instant, she immediately lowered her gaze. it was one of the chefs at the slurping bowl. although he had no way of knowing about the storm in her mind, goya oddly felt embarrassed, as if he could actually read minds. she blamed his big boba pearl-looking eyes, their default appearance always just made her feel as if he were trying to see through her, not at her.

"daijobu-desu." she softly replied, bowing her head in a curt motion. she kept her head hung, closing her eyes, pretending to give the impression that she was going to try and fall asleep.

@❛ ✧ : park taejoon The night prior was one that no university student dreamed of. Getting a flat tire on the bike ride to work, dropping notebooks and flashcards into a puddle, loosing her favorite pen. Really, that one was the worst. It had sentimental value. That was a thing of the past, and her present was wiping down one of the soda dispensers. Night shift almost over, the clock was ticking in her head to the drop of the soda from the fountain. Nightmare shift, more like.

"I need a cigarette," were the words that had sealed her fate. Rei beelines out the back entrance, rushing a cigarette out of its packet. Posted up on the store's wall, she lights up, taking a much needed drag. Terrible habit, she was cutting it! But some days called for this.

And it was cut short.

The damned ring of the store's door bell. Of course, when she decides to take a break in all the quiet hours, this woman had to show up. In a rush, Rei stamps out the cigarette before placing it on the small stool outside, and shoves the lighter into her back pocket, not even realizing that her wallet pulls out with her hand, and definitely doesn't hear it as she rushes back inside with a cheery. "Coming!" That was the deal, that was the catalyst to this all. With one customer coming up, and her ID not being anywhere found, nor her wallet, the frantic search began. The excuses flowed, apologies of of not knowing where her ID was, soon divulging into realizing that she can't get into the drawer to get change, she can't finalize sales without a swipe of the card, and that—holy , her student ID was lost, too.

Honestly, the sound of 'excuse me,' had her head popping up, so ready to let out a rushed 'one moment' to placate the man. This man, her savior. Her wallet. How did he get it!? "Thanks!" And she snatches it from his fingertips, only grabbing the ID card, and then... Throws the wallet back. Not really her best moment, but she was tired of people angrily dropping the wrong change on the counter, and of the crabby ones waiting for the drawer to magically work. Her hands were trembling as she swiped card after card, speeding through the transactions with no words spoken other than curses from the elderly. The early morning wasn't for the weak, and she was truly debating if she belonged in that category, leaning towards 'she did', when she looked back to him. Cash still scattered on the counter, coins dropped, and even a button. Her smile was scary, in the intense relief, like she'd been grieving—maybe she was! Her sanity. "Wait," her wallet.

"I'm.. I'm so sorry, sir. This is ridiculous." She was ridiculous. She was mortified.

@❛ ❀ : na goya The station platform was washed in dim, buzzing lights as Taejoon waited for the last train of the night, the chill of the late hour settling deep into his bones. His shift had been long, the usual soreness from chopping and prepping lingering as he stepped onto the train, the quiet hum of the engine wrapping around him like a tired blanket. He barely glanced around—he didn’t need to, not at this hour.

But tonight, in the half-empty car, a familiar face caught his eye. The customer who often came to Slurping Bowl sat near the back, headphones in, her expression as unreadable as ever. They’d nodded in passing a few times before, an unspoken acknowledgment between staff and customer. That was usually enough—until tonight. Tonight, something in her posture caught him off-guard, something almost guarded, as if she too was feeling the weight of the day. His gaze lingered a moment longer than he meant, and he felt the quiet urge to acknowledge her—beyond the usual nods they exchanged.

He moved toward the back, stepping forward just as the train lurched, and his foot slipped, sending him off-balance for a moment. He caught himself on the nearby pole, nearly stumbling into her seat.

“Sorry about that,” he muttered, glancing her way briefly, his voice soft but clear against the hum of the train.

@❛ ❀ : yukishiro rei The morning air was crisp, a thin veil of mist still clinging to the quiet streets as Taejoon pedaled his way to work. His usual route took him past the small convenience store on the corner—a place he rarely thought much about. Today, however, something unfamiliar caught his eye, a small shape just off the curb near the store’s entrance. Slowing down, Taejoon glanced down, noticing a wallet lying on the sidewalk.

He came to a full stop, one foot touching the ground as he leaned over to pick it up. The leather was speckled with dust, and the contents inside seemed to have shifted from the fall. Carefully, he flipped it open to find an ID badge staring back at him—a small photo and the name “Rei” printed below. Taejoon’s eyes drifted toward the store, recognizing the logo on the badge as the same one on the storefront.

Tucking the wallet under his arm, Taejoon parked his bike nearby, stepping inside with the thought of handing it over to any staff at the counter. Inside, he found a short line forming near the register, where a young cashier was fumbling through the drawer, her fingers moving with a hurried frustration.

“Excuse me… is this yours?” he asked, holding the wallet up just within her line of sight.