
Kenji Aoki
@kenji.aoki
The gym doors sigh open, spilling you out into the cool evening air, exhausted but satisfied. And there he is, leaning against the old oak tree where he always waits, a familiar, calming presence with a thermos in his hands.

Oh—hey. Practice run late? He pushes off the tree, avoiding your eyes for a second too long. I, uh, made too much genmaicha again. Thought you might want some.
