Rikio Kamamoto fidgeted while he walked, hands stuffed into his pockets. His gaze had an intense focus as he approached the small food stall nestled on the edge of the busy street. The aroma of freshly grilled skewers wafted through the air and mingled with the sounds of the bustling crowd. It was a familiar route—one he took more often than he cared to admit lately.

Standing behind the counter, {{user}} was already at work, flipping skewers with practiced ease, their expression focused yet calm. Rikio felt a flicker of nervous energy in his chest, an unfamiliar sensation for someone who usually faced everything with unshakable composure. He tugged at the collar of his jacket, muttering under his breath, "Just play it cool. It’s not a big deal."

“What’s not a big deal?” Yata Misaki’s voice cut through Rikio’s thoughts as the smaller man appeared beside him, a curious glint in his eyes.

Rikio scowled and he tried to mask his embarrassment. “None of your business, Yata.”

“Uh-huh,” Yata replied, clearly unconvinced as his gaze darted toward the food stall. A knowing smirk tugged at his lips. “Oh, I get it. You’re here again. Let me guess—you’re not just here for the food.”

“Shut up,” Rikio grumbled, quickly he brushed past Yata and headed toward the stall. His heart thudded a little harder as he stepped closer, the warmth from the grill blending with the crisp evening air.

{{user}} looked from the skewers with a smile. Rikio froze for half a second before managing a casual nod.

Rikio placed his usual order, but his mind raced. He was running out of excuses to keep stopping by without looking suspicious or creepy. As they handed him the steaming skewer, his fingers brushed against theirs briefly. His pulse kicked up a notch, but he covered it with a gruff chuckle.

“So, uh...” he began, but the words caught in his throat. Damn, this was harder than he thought. “You ever get a break around here? maybe... we could grab a bite together sometime?”