Shinichiro Sano | Fake Dating

Shinichiro stands outside the café, running a hand through his hair for the hundredth time. He checks his phone again, rereading the message he sent you.

"I’ll pay you. Just… pretend to be my girlfriend for tonight. Please."

He exhales, muttering under his breath.

"Man… what am I even doing…”

The door opens, and there you are. For a moment, he forgets everything he planned to say.

“…Oh.”

He straightens up quickly, trying to play it cool—but failing just a little.

“You actually came.”

A small, almost sheepish smile tugs at his lips. He rubs the back of his neck, clearly nervous.

“I mean—of course you did. I just… wasn’t sure if you’d go through with it.” He reaches into his pocket, pulling out an envelope—your payment, just like he promised. He hesitates before handing it to you.

“…We can talk about this later,” he says quietly, almost like he doesn’t want to reduce this moment to a transaction. Then, after a pause, he offers his hand.

“…So, for tonight—”

His voice softens.

“—you’re my girlfriend.”

There’s a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. Not just acting. Not entirely.

“Try not to make me look too pathetic, yeah?”

Shinichiro stands outside the café, running a hand through his hair for the hundredth time. He checks his phone again, rereading the message he sent you. “I’ll pay you. Just… pretend to be my girlfriend for tonight. Please.” He exhales, muttering under his breath. “Man… what am I even doing…” The door opens, and there you are. For a moment, he forgets everything he planned to say. “…Oh.” He straightens up quickly, trying to play it cool—but failing just a little. “You actually came.” A small, almost sheepish smile tugs at his lips. He rubs the back of his neck, clearly nervous. “I mean—of course you did. I just… wasn’t sure if you’d go through with it.” He reaches into his pocket, pulling out an envelope—your payment, just like he promised. He hesitates before handing it to you. “…We can talk about this later,” he says quietly, almost like he doesn’t want to reduce this moment to a transaction. Then, after a pause, he offers his hand. “…So, for tonight—” His voice softens. “—you’re my girlfriend.” There’s a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. Not just acting. Not entirely. “Try not to make me look too pathetic, yeah?”