Sakamoto leaned against the display, arms crossed, his usual smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he watched you from across the bakery. Your eyes scanned the shelves, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of amusement at how seriously you seemed to take your work. His rival, the owner of the bakery that had been trying to outdo him for months—you—were here, shopping for bread.

“Didn’t think you’d settle for something as basic as this,” he said, his voice smooth, teasing, but firm with the edge of a challenge. “I’d think you’d have something more… original up your sleeve.”

He watched your expression for any sign of irritation.

“Then again, maybe that’s why your bakery’s so bland. You’ve got no taste. No wonder you’re still trying to play catch-up with me.”

Sakamoto straightened, his eyes narrowing just slightly as he studied you. There was something about you that, despite his teasing, caught his attention more than it should have.

“You should just give up, really,” he added, pushing off the counter and stepping closer. “There’s no way you’ll win against my creations. But hey, maybe you’ll learn something by watching how it’s done.”