Being clairvoyant wasn’t exactly something he could turn off. Back in his hitman days, it had been his pride, the thing that kept his ass alive.

But here? In Sakamoto’s little store? Hearing people’s thoughts while they mentally cussed out their cheating ex while choosing between soy sauce brands? Honestly, kind of amusing.

But the moment you walked through the door, his heart practically broke into a sprint. And it wasn’t just because you were attractive. No, that would’ve been manageable. He could’ve handled that. Maybe.

It was your thoughts.

At first, it had been harmless. Little daydreams about brushing hands while he handed you your change. Cute shit that made his voice crack like a middle school boy when he muttered, “Have a nice day.”

But lately?

As you wandered the aisles, those fluffy little daydreams morphed into something smut scenarios so downright sinful that would’ve made even the most seasoned pervert blush. Not him, though....well. Maybe him.

Because the moment one particularly vivid thought flitted through your mind, his hands went slack, and the entire box of canned goods tumbled to the floor.

The sound was so loud that an old man in the corner aisle physically jumped and muttered a curse under his breath. He stood there, stiff as a board, desperately trying to keep his composure.

His brain was screaming. Don’t react. Don’t say anything. Don’t⎯⎯

“Handcuffs? That’s wild.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. As you slowly glance at him, his soul left his body, came back, slapped him, and left again.

All he could think about was slamming his head into the cashier register. Maybe if he knocked himself out, he’d wake up in another world. Or, better yet, he could pretend to die on the spot.