Your Pace: Toji x Shy Female - Part 2
✩˚｡ Summary ｡˚✩
It was supposed to be just ramen. Just a quiet booth and warm broth to calm the world down. But somehow, Toji is still here—walking beside you, unhurried and patient, like the city can’t touch either of you when he’s near. You don’t know what this is yet, but it’s gentle… and it feels like something blooming.
♡ Warnings / Info ♡
🌸 Soft fluff 🍥 Budding friendship/romance 🐰 Shy/autistic reader (fidgets, blushes, avoids eye contact) 🫖 Gentle/patient Toji 🌷 Cozy city strolls 🚫 No angst or spicy content—just cozy vibes
✩˚｡ Your Pace: Part Two｡˚✩
The ramen bowls were empty long before you noticed. Time had thinned into something soft, almost drowsy. The glow of the paper lantern above your booth washed everything in gold—the steam fading from your bowl, the smooth gleam of the wooden table, the faint curve of his mouth when you caught him watching you. Not in a way that made your skin crawl. Just… like he was checking that you were still okay.
You wiped your fingers on a napkin, suddenly unsure what to do with your hands now that they weren’t holding chopsticks. He didn’t rush you. He leaned back, one arm draped along the back of the booth, eyes half-lidded like he might fall asleep right there. Something about him made the air go quiet, like all the sharp edges of the world had gone soft for a while. “You good?” he asked softly, as if the question wasn’t a test but an open door.
You nodded. Small. Careful. The corners of your lips curled without your permission. “Good,” he said, like that settled everything. For a moment, neither of you moved. The thought of leaving scraped at you—not the noise outside, not yet, but the way the calm would dissolve once the door closed behind you. He seemed to notice the way your fingers tightened around your bag again. He didn’t call it out. Just stretched, stood, and offered his hand—not to take yours, just open-palmed, like an invitation.
“C’mon,” he said gently. “Not going back into the crowd yet. There’s a park a few blocks from here.” The word park slipped into your chest like warm sunlight through a crack. You hesitated, then slid from the booth. He didn’t touch you. Didn’t hurry. He just kept close enough that the world didn’t feel so big.
Outside, the night had softened. The crowd had thinned into clusters of quiet conversation and the distant hush of tires on pavement. The neon signs buzzed faintly overhead, their glow painting faint stripes of color on the sidewalk. He angled himself between you and anyone who passed too close, not obvious about it—just enough to give you room to breathe.
You matched his pace without thinking about it. He walked like he had nowhere he needed to be, long strides slowed down just for you. The silence between you wasn’t awkward—it felt almost like music, something low and steady that you could follow.
The park was small, tucked behind tall hedges like a secret. A fountain murmured softly in the center. Lamps cast pools of gentle yellow light on the path. The air smelled faintly of earth and water and cut grass, cool and sweet against your skin. You sank onto a bench, shoulders sagging, and for a long time neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t sharp. It felt like a blanket, soft and weightless.
He sprawled beside you, long legs stretched out, head tilted back like he was listening to the water. “Crowds can get to you,” he said after a while, voice quiet enough that you almost missed it. “Takes a bit to… slow down.” Something in your chest loosened. He wasn’t mocking you. He understood. You twisted your fingers in your sleeve. “Thank you,” you whispered, the words fragile as moth wings.
His eyes opened—green-gray, glinting faintly in the lamplight. “Don’t thank me for that,” he said. “It’s just being decent.” The words were plain, but they landed deep. You blinked hard, heat prickling at your eyes, and ducked your head so he wouldn’t see. He didn’t try to make you look up. Instead he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You wanna feed the koi?”
You blinked. “…There’s koi?” “Mm.” He pointed lazily toward the fountain pond. Shapes flickered just under the surface, orange-gold in the glow. He dug in his coat pocket and held out a small packet like it was obvious he’d have fish food on him. A laugh escaped you, small and startled. It made his mouth curve faintly. “Thought you might like it,” he said simply.
You did. The koi nudged at the water’s surface, mouths opening like slow blinks. You crumbled the food between your fingers, dropped it in gentle pinches, and watched ripples spread. He sat quiet at your side, letting you exist, letting you be soft without asking you to be anything else.
The world narrowed to warm lamplight, glimmering water, and the quiet sound of his breathing next to yours. You weren’t sure how long you stayed there. It could’ve been minutes. It could’ve been forever. When the packet was empty, your heart wasn’t so tight anymore.
The city hummed far beyond the hedges, faint and harmless. You let out a long breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. He stretched, standing, and this time—this time—you stood too without thinking. “Want me to walk you home?” he asked.
Your throat went dry. You nodded, small but certain. His eyes softened, and he smiled—just a little, like a secret again. “Alright,” he murmured. “Your pace.” And he fell into step beside you, long strides slowed to match yours, as the night air wrapped around you like something kind.
✩˚｡⋆ Written with love by mintedmomments ⋆｡˚✩
If you’d like a Part 3… let me know. I think he’d really like to see you again. ♡
