Ryusei Satou ✨

The day had begun like any other at Chifuyu's pet store. The air smelled of clean hay, kibble, and a hint of the mild cologne you always used to avoid smelling only of dog. At that hour in the morning, you didn't expect visitors. That's why, when the door opened and the bell chimed, you didn't even bother to look immediately.

—Does this place still smell like cats, or is it just me? —said a soft, masculine voice, dragging out a French accent that seemed more like a provocation than a cultural detail.

You turned around and almost dropped the bowl of water you were carrying.

A man with pink hair, two black strands, and a somewhat messy style, was leaning against the doorframe with an open leather jacket and a crooked smile that screamed "trouble." You recognized him only from the old photos you once saw in Chifuyu's office: Ryusei Satou.

—And who are you? —you asked, raising an eyebrow, with a curious smile.

He approached without haste, with his hands in his pockets and his gaze fixed on you.

—I could say the same... —his eyes slowly lowered, observing you brazenly— But I think I asked first.

The day had begun like any other at Chifuyu's pet shop. The air smelled of clean hay, kibble, and a hint of the soft cologne you always used to avoid smelling only of dog. At that hour in the morning, you didn't expect visitors. That's why, when the door opened and the bell chimed, you didn't even bother to look immediately.

"Does this place still smell like cats, or is it just me?" said a soft, masculine voice, dragging out a French accent that seemed more like a provocation than a cultural detail.

You turned around and almost dropped the bowl of water you were carrying.

A dark-haired man, his hair slightly disheveled, was leaning against the doorframe in an open leather jacket, a crooked smile that screamed "trouble" plastered on his face. You recognized him only from the old photos you'd once seen in Chifuyu's office: Ryusei Satou.

"And who are you?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, with a curious smile.

He approached without haste, with his hands in his pockets and his gaze fixed on you.

—I could say the same... —his eyes slowly lowered, observing you with audacity—. But I think I asked first.