You Came with the First Spring Breeze... - Episode 5: \"It\'s Alright! Just Kidding\"

Episode 5: “It’s Alright! Just Kidding”

“So, get this! Another time, I went all out for my girlfriend’s birthday and booked us a room at the Celeb Emperor. Total surprise, right?”

The Celeb Emperor Hotel is a dream destination for almost every girl—a holy spot for lovers. It’s perfect for special dates or even a proposal. Its stylish lobby, chic rooms, and Insta-worthy decor make it constantly trendy on social media.

“I even arranged for the hotel to bring out a cake,” he said, gesturing animatedly, clearly enjoying the memory.

Enough already, Tomoya. I’m not that grown up. I don’t want to hear any more about this. But despite the scream in my heart, I forced a smile and nodded along.

“Uh-huh. And then what happened?”

“Thank you for waiting. Here is your champagne, along with the first course of fresh oysters.”

The server placed a silver bowl packed with crushed ice in front of us, showcasing eight shell-on oysters, each with a small card indicating its origin.

Perfect timing, honestly—I felt like awarding the server a gold medal! Now we could change the subject to oysters, and I wouldn’t have to hear any more about surprises for his ex.

“Wow, look at these! They’re so big! You can already tell just by looking at them how plump they are!”

I exaggerated my excitement, hoping to steer the conversation.

“They really are. The ones from Hiroshima are known for their size,” he replied in his usual, laid-back way. He’s not the type to show much emotion.

“Please enjoy them with either lemon or ponzu sauce,” the server added with a smile before leaving.

“Cheers,” Tomoya said.

The sparkling bubbles shimmered as they caught the light. Our champagne glasses clinked softly before we each took a sip. The champagne was refined and restrained, likely chosen to let the oysters’ natural flavors shine.

“This is so smooth! I could easily drink too much,” I said, nodding at Tomoya’s amused expression.

We enjoyed oysters in every possible style: fried, baked with herbs and garlic, steamed with wine, and so on. Each dish brought out a different flavor, so we never got bored as we worked through each one.

Then came a lightly seared oyster pasta and freshly baked bread, both exquisite in their own way. Just calling it “delicious” felt like it didn’t do it justice.

This is what a real date is like, I thought.

At twenty, I entered a dark industry. Some clients treated me kindly, but there was never love. Their kindness was only as deep as it took to reach their climax. There was no room for sentiment in a job like that, not even a hint of affection.

I learned to smile through nausea, pretend enjoyment, and find ways to turn loathing into cheerful expressions.

Then, when I was twenty-two, fresh out of university, I met Mita. He’d first seen me while I was working at a nightclub that had a partnership with a certain establishment.

He pointed at me and declared, “From today, you’re my girl.” He didn’t hesitate to slip his hand inside my blouse, no matter who was watching.

For a while, I think Mita genuinely enjoyed being with me. He called me perfect and treated me well, in his own way.

I thought this was real, adult love. Not some fantasy out of a romance movie or comic book.

At some point, Mita’s attention drifted toward Naoko Miyata—Tomoya’s ex. I only saw her once, but she was a flawless beauty, like a doll.

“Tell me your funniest story, Aki,” Tomoya said, his cheeks flushed from the wine.

My funniest memory was the group outing when I met Tomoya. He was shy despite being older, and teasing him had been fun. But I couldn’t say that out loud.

So instead, I replied, “The one you told earlier was the funniest.”

“That one?” he asked.

“Yeah, the one in the car…”

Tomoya blushed a bit more, smiling sheepishly.

“Sorry about that… that was a bit much, huh?”

I shook my head dramatically.

“It was fun. I’m not scared of Mita anymore. He totally deserved it.”

Tomoya gave a firm nod, smiling brightly.

The plates had all been cleared, and the evening felt like it was winding down. On the table lay a burgundy leather check folder, face down.

Tomoya glanced at his watch and looked over toward the register.

I wasn’t ready for this night to end. I wanted to stay with him longer.

I reached over and touched his fingers resting on the table. In response, he lightly held my fingertips.

“That was amazing. Shall we head back?”

He released my fingers, stood up, and headed toward the register.

I hurriedly grabbed my bag from the basket at my feet and followed him.

Standing next to him at the counter, he said, “You can wait outside if you want,” gesturing toward the entrance.

He didn’t want me to see the total cost, which was thoughtful.

As soon as I stepped outside, though, I felt a shiver.

Couples on the street seemed even closer than they had been earlier, with the boundaries between them blurred as they drifted off into the evening.

If I didn’t blend in with that rhythm, I felt like I’d be left behind.

A few passing men gave me lingering looks, their eyes running up and down my body.

The loathing I thought I’d left behind came flooding back.

Stop looking at me like that!