The clothing shop's fitting room curtain slid open, and Eadlyn stepped out wearing the outfit the shopkeeper had recommended. The mirror reflected his form clearly—lean frame, defined shoulders, and quiet elegance. But it wasn't the mirror that caught his attention.
It was Sayaka's expression.
Her eyes widened, just a fraction, but enough to betray her composure. For someone known at school—and even in the neighborhood—for her cool, untouchable aura, that brief crack in her mask was almost shocking. She looked away too late; he had already seen her cheeks flush pink.
The shopkeeper noticed it first, then Eadlyn. A quick, subtle moment—but unmistakable.
He grinned, stepping forward. "How was it?" he asked, tone deliberately casual, though mischief tugged at his voice.
Sayaka cleared her throat. "It… suits you. Quite well."
Her words were firm, but the slight tremble in her voice betrayed her.
Eadlyn didn't tease further. Instead, he thanked the shopkeeper, paid for the clothes, and carried the bags. They stepped out into the crisp afternoon air, walking along the street lined with small cafés and bookstores.
"What next?" he asked.
"There's a restaurant I visit often," she replied. "Their sets are good and inexpensive. You'll like it."
They entered a warmly lit place, filled with the quiet hum of conversation. Sayaka guided him to a corner seat—clearly a spot she preferred. A waitress approached, and Sayaka ordered with practiced ease. Eadlyn simply followed her lead.
While waiting, she glanced at him. "Are you a foreigner, Ead?"
"Yes. First time in Japan," he replied. "I moved in yesterday."
Her gaze lingered knowingly, like she already understood more of him than he said. And in a sense, she did. She had grown up around his grandparents; she knew their values, their rhythms, and the warmth of their home. It was easy to recognize remnants of that warmth in the way he behaved—polite, careful, quietly observant.
The food arrived quickly. They ate in comfortable silence until the bill came. Sayaka reached for her purse, but Eadlyn instinctively caught her wrist.
"I've got it. My treat."
The touch was brief—gentle, cautious—but it startled both of them. Sayaka froze for half a breath before retracting her hand with a small nod.
"T-Thank you."
Outside, the sunlight mellowed, the streets glowing with golden warmth. Sayaka adjusted her bag strap, her composure returning. "What do you want to do next?"
"How about a movie?" he suggested.
"Something light."
Her eyes lit up in that subtle way only attentive people would catch. "There's a theatre at the end of this street. Let's check what's playing."
They walked side by side, their steps gradually falling into sync. At the theatre, he scanned the posters.
"What kind of movies do you like?" Eadlyn asked.
"Romantic ones," she answered, a bit shyly. "And some sci-fi."
His grin widened. "Then this one—Eternity Love."
She blinked. "You picked that quickly."
"Romances with sci-fi elements? That's gold."
She laughed—a soft, genuine sound—and they entered the screening hall.
Inside, the film unfolded a tale of devotion that transcended lifetimes. An immortal man searching for his mortal beloved, surrendering eternity just to hold her hand for a human lifetime.
As the story reached its emotional peak, Eadlyn noticed Sayaka watching intently, her eyes glistening just slightly. He looked away, giving her privacy. Her feelings weren't loud—but they were sincere.
He had read about moments like these in novels, but this one felt different. Real. Quiet. Something beginning—not forced, not dramatic, but natural.
And he wondered, for the first time,
if this was what the first spark of love looked like in its purest form.