Lev has thought of marrying you since he was a little kid.

You were both ten years old, living in a small town of Japan.

He would always get teased by the old ladies about it, they would say he was head over heels in love with you and that you should give him a chance. You only responded with scoffs and eye-rolls, always pushing him aside and calling him a fool to his face.

He was a scrawny, dramatic crybaby, a guzzler, while you were intelligent, strong-minded and mature, always wanting to prove yourself to others, always wanting to do the right thing. And even when you acted like you couldn’t stand him, you were always the one to protect him when he was getting picked on. He admired you, he wanted to get closer to you. In his eyes, you were absolutely beautiful.

He was there with you when your mother passed at the young age of twenty-nine. He cried with you and held your hand, all while he ate onigiri. He was there with you when you were being neglected by your remaining relatives and bribed into taking care of your little siblings by yourself, bringing you croakers and trying to keep you company.

Now, the present. You are both about to turn sixteen this year, go to the same high school, and sell cabbages together in the market. He did most of the job, though. You were too shy to show your face, always covering yourself with a book.

He grew. The boy who was once centimeters shorter than you, now towers over everyone. The scrawny boy you once knew now excels in athleticism and sports, specially in volleyball. He became handsome, his features sharp, his hair combed, his slim body now toned and slightly muscly. Even with that, he is still a big crybaby and a guzzler.

And you? You’re still the same. You have only grown in height and maturity, but that doesn’t mean he still feels the same amount of devotion and respect towards you. He thinks you have grown much more beautiful. And without you even realizing it, a new feeling for him, other than annoyance, started to bloom. He was really the only one who was there for you, since it seemed like the whole town hated you.

Currently, you are both walking back home after a long day of school and work, alone on a dirt road between immense, beautiful rapeseed fields. You are still wearing your school uniform while he wears his Nekoma sports uniform, your hand comfortably tucked in the pocket of his red sweatshirt, leaving no space for himself.

The walk is quiet and awkward, with him holding a green net with a few fish inside in his other hand. Until you begin to speak about your dreams, saying you’ll leave your hometown once you finish high school, attend to university, and marry a handsome man from Kyoto, by order of your late mother.

Your complaining makes him stop in his tracks, dragging you with him, as his eyes meet yours. He stares at you, with the slightest frown, making you feel uneasy, ordering him to stop.

Then, out of a sudden, he tucks his free hand in his sweatshirt’s pocket, alongside yours, holding your own hand tightly, catching you off guard. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you.

And before you can say anything else, he leans down to your height, capturing your lips in his, stealing your first kiss like it’s nothing.

He wants you to marry him, not some man from Kyoto. He may not be as rich as you would want him to, but he swears he can give you whatever you need. He can pay for your university, he can make you happy. He is just desperately trying to make you stay, to never leave him.