In a universe where everyone is born with numbers on their wrists counting down to when they’ll meet their soulmate, send me 00:00:00 for my muses reaction to their numbers hitting zero when they meet yours.
Life had been different for Aiichiro, since the accident.
He remembered, four or so years ago, waking up in the hospital after the whole ordeal. He remembered his mother crying, remembered the look on the nurses face when she told him that he'd make a full recovery--a full recovery, except for one little thing.
During a surgery to reverse some damage done to his arm, it had become necessary to operate on his wrist. And as a result of scarring, the numbers--which had once been bold and bright--were now blurred and dim.
It had seemed like such a little thing, at the time, that Aiichiro hadn't even been upset.
As time went on, however, his situation became more frustrating. Everyone else's numbers were easy to read--a constant reminder of that fateful day which would change their lives forever: the day they would meet their soulmate. But due to the scarring on his wrist his numbers were harder to see. Sometimes they flickered, sometimes they faded, and although they always remained consistent (they never changed dramatically or skipped or faltered) it was enough to drive Ai insane. His friends joked around (well intentioned, but hurtful) that maybe his counter had been completely broken and he would meet no one when it hit zero. His mother voiced similar concerns. The doctors promised him that everything was fine--that the only problem was visibility--but that did very little to calm the feelings of dreadful anxiety that he got whenever he looked at the numbers that used to give him such nervous joy.
So eventually he did the only thing he could do--he covered it up. He checked it only occasionally, not wanting to face the apprehension that the numbers gave him, but as the years had gone on those checks had gotten less and less frequent. Most mornings he woke up and put on the thick rubber bracelet he often wore to cover it up without so much as a squint to try and discern the numbers. Some nights, he didn't remove the bracelet at all, which gave him no opportunity to glace even a hint of the numbers in the mornings.
In the last few weeks Ai hadn't checked his numbers even once.
Which was why, when his coworker had suggested they meet up at a nice restaurant after work today, he hadn't even stopped to consider that this was the day he was supposed to be meeting his soulmate. He'd accepted without a second thought, dressed in some relaxed clothes, and headed over to meet up.
The restaurant was a nice place, a quiet establishment that always served good food and had an attentive staff. It was close to a famous swimming stadium--somewhere professionals often went to train. Ai had even heard that Olympic swimmers trained there quite often in the rainy or cold seasons--it was an indoor pool and he had always heard wonderful things about it. The stadium was so close that as Ai approached the doors of the restaurant, he could smell the faint chase of clean water. It brought back memories--he'd been a swimmer throughout his younger years, but had never gotten quite good enough to continue into university. It had been difficult for him, but eventually he'd found a path that suited him better; he'd always loved helping people with their problems, so becoming a counsellor had seemed like a natural fit.
Shaking his nostalgic thoughts, the beauty marked male reached for the door handle, just in time for his phone to buzz in his pocket. Pausing, he drew it out and checked the message that had flashed up on his screen.
I'm really sorry about this, but I have to cancel! My daughter got sick! Raincheck?
Nitori sighed and shook his head with a smile, turning from the door and beginning to type out his reply. It didn't bother him, honestly, in fact he was more appreciative of the fact that his coworker had at least warned them that they wouldn't be able to meet. Still, now he was left with the unfortunate activity of deciding what to do now that he'd travelled all this way to meet up. He hit the send button, completely oblivious to the fact that the timer on his wrist was creeping into the single digits.
He moved to slip his phone back into his pocket without looking, and in a stroke of what he would later only be able to attribute to fate, it didn't quite settle in properly. The phone dropped, and slid across the sidewalk as though it were on ice, settling right at the feet of a stranger, whom Ai was (at the moment) slightly too preoccupied to get a proper look at.
Quickly, the silver haired male stepped over with a laugh. "Sorry! Leave it to me to drop something just in time for it to land in someone's way," he bent down and placed his hand on the phone, but at the same time his eyes finally locked on the stranger's face, and he felt a strange sensation somewhere between his heart and his throat. He wrote it off as nothing, of course, because he hadn't glimpsed his wrist in weeks.
No, Ai, leave it to you to unknowingly meet your soulmate even though most people are perfectly aware of when such things are going to happen.
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