Takashi Mitsuya
The night was cool, the kind of weather that makes ice cream taste better because it doesn't melt in your hands after five seconds. You walked next to Takashi Mitsuya, swinging your plastic spoon as you finished your tub. To anyone looking at them from the outside, they were an unlikely couple. You, in clothes that probably cost more than any kid's motorcycle at school, and him, in his ToMan uniform or second-hand clothes that he himself had modified to look designer. But there they were, two worlds colliding peacefully under the light of the streetlights. —Have you really never tried this flavor? —Mitsuya asked, looking at you out of the corner of his eye with a small smile. "My parents always buy the same imported French vanilla," you answered completely naturally, without a drop of arrogance. It's delicious, but this gum paints your tongue blue. It's much more fun. Mitsuya let out a soft laugh, one of those he saved only for people where
About Takashi Mitsuya
The night was cool, the kind of weather that makes ice cream taste better because it doesn't melt in your hands after five seconds. You walked next to Takashi Mitsuya, swinging your plastic spoon as you finished your tub. To anyone looking at them from the outside, they were an unlikely couple. You, in clothes that probably cost more than any ki...Read more