In Her Eyes
1598 Words
Four days and three nights in Okinawa had passed. Now, I stood in the center of Yuki Furukawa's penthouse, my new home.
As I looked around, I realized my belongings had already been moved in. The space was sophisticated but cold, dominated by a palette of black, gray, and white. It felt masculine and enigmatic, without a single trace of "girly" warmth.
"Furukawa-kun," I asked as we prepared for bed that first night. "Is there really only one bedroom?"
He looked at me as if the answer were written on the wall. "Isn't it obvious? I'm a bachelor. This is where I lived alone."
"If you had married my sister instead... would you still live here? There's no 'ambience of love' in this place," I blurted out.
The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Yuki's eyes flashed with a cold glare. My heart sank. Insensitive, Honoka! So insensitive!
"Imm sorry," I whispered.
Yuki let out a long sigh, his gaze softening just a fraction. "This place was never intended for a family. I have a house prepared for Hana. We'll move there... once I find her and marry her."
"I see." My chest tightened. So, this pad was just a waiting room. A temporary stop before his "real" life began.
"For now, we live here," he said, lying down on the left side of the bed. "And we sleep in the same bed. You don't need to worry, though. Nothing will happen, even if you beg for it." He flashed a playful, arrogant smirk.
My face turned scarlet. "As if! For your information, I would never fall for an old man like you!" I crossed my arms, turning my back to him.
"Good. I don't want to be attached to you, either," he retorted. "And Honoka? Keep this marriage a secret at school. Don't you dare tell your friends."
"I wasn't planning to," I muttered, reaching over to click off the lamp.
The next morning, Yuki was gone before the sun was fully up. He had left a simple breakfast on the counter, which I ate quickly before rushing to the university.
As soon as I stepped onto campus, my best friend, Ayame Gouriki, tackled me with a hug.
"Honoka-chan! Where have you been? You were gone for four days! Did something happen? Did your parents hurt you?" Ayame's voice was full of motherly concern.
I opened my mouth to lie, but Ayame's eyes were like X-rays.
"Everything is fine, Ayame-chan," I said, but I couldn't stop myself from shaking.
"You're lying! I know that look," she accused, pointing a finger at me. "We tell each other everything! Are we best friends or not?"
I looked around. Classmates were starting to stare. I leaned in close, whispering, "Promise me you won't tell anyone? Scandalous reactions only, please."
"I'm getting scared, Honoka. What is it?"
"I... I'm married. To my sister’s fiancé."
"WHAT?!" Ayame shrieked.
I grabbed her hand, shushing her frantically. I ended up spending the entire lunch break narrating the disaster of the wedding, the cold honeymoon, and the rescue in Okinawa.
"Unbelievable," Ayame whispered. "Is he... at least handsome?"
I felt a traitorous blush creep up my neck. "Yeah. He is."
"Omigosh! You're blushing! You like him!"
"I don't! I shouldn't! I wouldn't!" I protested, but Ayame just wriggled her eyebrows at me.
Before I could defend myself, a hand patted my shoulder. I turned to see Haruma Miura, the school's genius, the most popular guy on campus, and my long-time crush.
"You're back," Haruma said, his smile bright enough to melt my heart. "Are you feeling better?"
"I'm fine," I squeaked, my heart exploding. "Just... a bit of a fever."
"Glad to hear it. You missed a lot. We have a makeup session today, and a big exam on Saturday. I can tutor you after class if you want."
"Yes! I mean, thank you. I'll be there."
As he walked away, I felt like I was floating. But a tiny voice in the back of my mind whispered: You're a married woman, Honoka.
By 9:30 PM, I was slumped over the living room table at the penthouse, surrounded by a mess of math notes and textbooks. I had stayed late for tutoring with Haruma, but my brain was fried.
I'm so hungry, I groaned. I was afraid to touch the fridge. It felt like trespassing. I eventually fell into a light nap right there on my notebooks.
The sound of the front door opening startled me awake. Yuki walked in, loosening his tie. He stopped, staring at the explosion of papers on his pristine table.
"What is this mess?"
"I'm studying," I yawned.
"Have you eaten?"
My stomach answered for me with a loud, pathetic growl. I blushed. "I... I don't know how to cook. And I didn't want to touch your stuff."
Yuki sighed, rubbing his forehead. "You really are a hopeless girl."
He shed his suit jacket and headed to the kitchen. I followed him, watching in awe as he deftly prepared pork and vegetables.
"You know how to cook?" I asked.
"I lived alone for years," he said, not looking up. "You should learn. Hana is an amazing cook." He caught himself at the mention of her name, his hands pausing for a split second.
When the food was served, I nearly cried. Oishii desu! It was delicious. "Are you not eating?"
"I already ate," he said, watching me gobble down the meal. "Why are you still awake anyway?"
"Math exam," I choked out, grabbing a glass of water. "I don't understand any of it."
Yuki walked over and glanced at my notebook. "These are all wrong."
"Don't look!" I tried to cover the pages. "I'm not a genius like Hana-neechan, okay?"
Yuki didn't leave. He pulled out a chair and sat across from me. "These problems are easy. You just aren't analyzing them right."
I looked at him, hope springing up. "Can you help me? Please? Just for two nights?" I gave him my best puppy-dog eyes.
"Fine," he grumbled. "But I'm impatient. Keep up, Honoka."
For the next two nights, Yuki transformed from a cold husband into a strict tutor. He stayed up late with me, his voice rising when I made silly mistakes, but he never actually quit on me.
On the final night, I woke up at 5:00 AM on the living room rug. I realized my hand was still resting on the table right next to Yuki's. Our fingers were entwined.
I stared at him while he slept. His face was so peaceful without the scowl. You really are attractive, Furukawa-kun, I thought. Hana was crazy to leave you. I wish... I wish you'd look at me like that.
I slapped my cheeks. What am I saying? Stop it!
I scrambled up, made him a cup of coffee, and left a note: Thank you for the help. Smile! - Honoka.
The exam was a breeze. When I finished, Ayame came running over "How was it?"
"Easy!" I beamed. "Yuki tutored me."
"He did? That's so cute! The seeds of love are sprouting!"
"No, they aren't!" I shouted, blushing again.
"You should thank him," Ayame suggested. "Cook him a meal."
I spent the afternoon with a cookbook, determined to make the perfect steak. But by the time Yuki arrived home, the kitchen was a war zone of smoke and charred meat.
"What happened?!" Yuki rushed in, looking panicked.
I held up a plate of charcoal. "I tried to make you a 'thank you' steak."
He stared at the black lump. "Are you trying to poison me? You're nuts." He took the plate and set it aside. "Let me cook."
"But... my steak..."
"Throw it away," he said firmly.
I fled to the bathroom, tears pricking my eyes. Epic failure. I'm just a failure. I showered, trying to wash away the smell of smoke and the feeling of inadequacy.
When I finally came to the dining table, a perfect steak was waiting for me. Yuki was sitting there, drinking water.
"It's delicious," I said, trying to sound cheerful despite my puffy eyes. "Aren't you going to eat?"
"I'm full," he said.
"You already ate?"
"Yes. I ate your burnt steak."
My jaw dropped. My heart did a sudden, violent somersault. "But why? You said it was poisonous!"
"Because it was a waste," he muttered, looking away. "You spent time and energy on it. I didn't want it to be for nothing."
"How... how did it taste?"
"Horrible. Awful. I had to force it down." He drank more water, his ears turning slightly red.
I looked at him, and for the first time, I didn't see an "Old Man" or a "Brother." I saw Yuki.
"I'll teach you how to cook properly," he said, reaching over and ruffling my hair before heading to the bedroom.
My heart beat so fast I thought it would beat out of my chest. There were butterflies—no, an entire garden—fluttering in my stomach.
Oh no, I thought, touching my burning cheeks. I'm actually falling for him.
- Writer
