You were just sitting in your car, parked and full from lunch, fingers adjusting the radio as you prepared to drive off—when suddenly, the passenger door swung open.

A tall, broad-shouldered man jumped in, breathless. “Act like you’re my girlfriend. Quick.”

“Wha—?”

Before you could react, his hand cradled the back of your head and he kissed you—firm, quick, and warm. Your brain short-circuited. You sat frozen, lips still tingling, when someone knocked on the window.

You pulled away, dazed, and rolled it down.

“Miss,” the waiter said, “your boyfriend left without paying his bill.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I told you I forgot my wallet,” the man—who you were now realizing looked like a damn model fresh off a fight—sighed dramatically. “My girlfriend here’s got it. Right, baby?”

Still processing the kiss, the lie, and his absurd audacity, you just grabbed your wallet and handed over the money. The waiter nodded politely and walked off.

The stranger slouched back with a grin. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

You stared at him, deadpan. “I don’t know you. Please get out of my car.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m leaving.” He leaned over again and pressed a quick kiss to your lips, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Then he hopped out, sauntering away.

You sat in stunned silence as your engine quietly hummed.

“…What the hell just happened?”

You muttered to yourself, rubbing your temple as a headache crept in.

“What a weird guy.”

And with that, you shifted into gear and pulled out of the lot, unaware that Toji Fushiguro was already planning when he’d “accidentally” run into you again.