The Stranger with the Smile
1109 Words
“What?” He raised a brow, confusion flickering across his face as he looked between us.
Jane froze, mouth open, while I tried to steady my breath. My heart was still thudding from the panic of hiding.
“Right…” I whispered, lowering my voice. “Who are you again?”
He chuckled softly, and that small, confident smile appeared — the kind that felt practiced but effortlessly charming. “Hiroshi Saito.”
The name rolled smoothly off his tongue, and for a second, it didn’t quite register. Then I blinked.
“Saito?” I repeated. “That’s… Japanese, right? You’re Japanese?”
His lips curved slightly as he nodded. “Yeah. Half, anyway.”
“Half?” I tilted my head, studying him more closely under the soft streetlight. His skin was pale but warm-toned, his eyes sharp yet gentle, and his accent was barely noticeable. “You don’t look full Japanese though.”
He gave a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Half-Japanese, half-American. Best and worst of both worlds, I guess.”
Jane finally found her voice — and, predictably, her flirtatious energy. “I knew it!” she said, practically sparkling. “Mixed people are always ridiculously fine.”
I elbowed her lightly, but she ignored me, still staring at him like he was a living art piece.
Saito turned to her, amused. “Hello there,” he said smoothly, extending his hand. “Nice to see you again, Miss…?”
“Jane,” she said a little too quickly. “Just Jane is fine.” Her voice wobbled slightly as she shook his hand, cheeks flushed pink.
I blinked. “Wait, you two have met before?”
Jane mouthed dramatically, He’s the guy I told you about!
Oh. The “Mr Angel Face” she couldn’t stop talking about. Of course.
“Oh, right!” I said, feigning sudden realization.
Saito chuckled. “Yeah, I think I saw her at that corner store the other day,” he said, nodding toward the small grocery down the street. “Didn’t realize we were all neighbors.”
“Small world,” I said quickly, forcing a smile.
He turned his gaze on me now. “And you are…?”
“Oh! I’m Anne. Anne Wilson,” I said, trying to sound composed.
“Nice to meet you, Anne.” His voice softened as he offered his hand.
I took it before I could think twice. His grip was firm but gentle — the kind of handshake that felt intentional, like he meant it. His palm was warm, his skin smooth.
“Thanks,” I muttered, awkwardly letting go.
He lingered for a second longer, his eyes studying me. “So…” he began, glancing toward the row of flower bushes we’d been crouched behind. “Care to explain why you two are hiding out here in the dark?”
I froze. Jane looked at me like you explain this!
“It’s nothing,” I said quickly, forcing out a nervous laugh. “We were just, uh… getting some fresh air. You know. Night breeze and all.”
He arched a brow, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t press. His gaze flicked back toward the other side of the road, where Aiden and his friends had been standing — but they were gone now.
He smiled again, slipping his hands casually into his pockets. “Alright then. I’ll take your word for it.”
“Yeah. You do that,” I said, trying to sound casual, though my heart was still pounding.
He gave a polite nod, then turned to leave. His pace was slow, unhurried, confident. But just before reaching the corner, he glanced back over his shoulder.
Our eyes met — only for a moment — but there was something in that look. Something unreadable. Like he knew more than he was letting on.
The air felt different after he left, heavier somehow.
Jane sighed dreamily beside me. “Did you see that smile? I think I just died and came back hotter.”
I gave her a side-eye. “You’re hopeless.”
“Don’t ruin my moment, Anne. I’m in love.”
“You were in love last week—with the pizza guy,” I reminded her, pulling her up from where she’d crouched.
“This one’s different,” she insisted, clasping her phone dramatically. Then, as if struck by a thought, she darted forward. “Wait! Hiroshi!”
He turned, stopping mid-step.
“Can I… maybe get your number?” she asked, her voice soft, hesitant. Her confidence from before had evaporated into nervous laughter.
He blinked, then smiled again. “Sure.”
Without hesitation, he took her phone and typed in his digits, handing it back with a mock salute. “Here. Call me whenever your heart tells you to.”
Jane’s laughter was bright and fluttery as she accepted the phone with both hands, like he’d just given her a priceless gift.
“Thanks,” she said. “I definitely will.”
I couldn’t help but smirk. “Alright, Miss Romance, let’s go. Aunt Mira’s probably pacing the living room by now.”
Jane sighed but followed as we started back down the street. I felt my heartbeat begin to slow. The night breeze brushed past us, soft and cool, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the nearby gardens.
For a moment, everything felt calm again.
Until I looked up.
And froze.
He was there.
Leaning casually against the low brick wall beside the house, hands in his pockets, his familiar face illuminated by the streetlight.
Aiden.
His dark eyes locked on mine—steady, sharp, unreadable.
The world seemed to narrow around us. I could hear nothing but the pounding of my heart.
Jane’s chatter faded into background noise as Aiden’s gaze flicked toward the flowerbed where we had been hiding moments ago, then back to me.
He knew.
He knew I had been there, spying, probably looking ridiculous.
A slow, knowing smile curved his lips — not cruel, not kind, just… amused.
I felt my face heat up, every nerve on edge.
My mind screamed for me to say something, anything — but before I could, he pushed off the wall, walked past us with that effortless confidence, and whispered just loud enough for me to hear:
“Next time, you don’t have to hide.”
Then he was gone, disappearing into the dim street, leaving me frozen in place — half mortified, half thrilled.
And for the first time that night, I couldn’t tell if my heart was racing out of fear… or excitement.
- Writer
