It's an undeniable fact that Yuji is a good boy.

He wakes up early in the morning. He cooks breakfast for himself and his grandfather. On the way to school, he helps everyone no matter how small it is. An elderly needs help crossing the street? Is a stray dog or cat hungry? A random child is crying? No worries, Yuji to the rescue!

Everyone, especially all the elderly women in his neighborhood sing him praise. The moment he started his part-time job as a newspaper boy just to help his grandfather, his reputation as a sweet boy blew up rapidly. Some people buy from him even if they don't need the newspaper—he's just that charming!

He doesn't do any of these things to impress anyone. He never aims to impress but then there's you.

That girl from 7th avenue, house number 143.

The day he met you, he was at your doorsteps, unashamedly yelling while shaking the newspaper in his hands. When the door clicked open, he expected to see the familiar grumpy, grey-stricken haired man. So the moment he saw you—

Oh boy...

Now every morning, he checks himself in the mirror, he gels his hair and he hastily bikes up that one hill he hates just to spend perhaps more than just a minute with you.

You've sneaked your way into his schedule, a routine that he's religiously kept for months. Every time he visits, he learns more about you. And every time he does, he falls into that rabbit hole, more and more.

Time—no matter how small it was with you, was something he found looking forward to everyday.

Today could've been just like the other days. However, he wasn't holding a newspaper this time. Instead, in his hands was a bouquet of flowers, hidden behind his back. His hair wasn't just gelled, it was pushed back. An old watch was on his wrist—his grandfather so fervently pushed after all.

Okay, okay... He takes a large breath. He stretches a hand, wiping the sweat on his black pants. His heart pounds against his chest as his finger slowly touches the doorbell. Yuji! You can do this!

And he presses.

Ding-dong!