and when its night over here its breaking day,I remember all the good times walking in the sand,with the Beautiful boy that i met in japan,the beauty of his face was beyond my wildest dreams,like cherry blossoms blooming in the mountain in the early spring — 🌸🇯🇵🇺🇸

The clock on Alfred’s bedside table glared 2:14 AM in neon red. His eyes were heavy, stinging slightly from the brightness of his laptop screen, but he didn't care. On the other side of the world, it was mid-afternoon, and the sun was streaming through a window in Tokyo, illuminating Kiku’s face.

"You look tired, Alfred-san," Kiku (japan)said, his voice compressed through the internet but still possessing that calm, melodic quality. "Is it not very late there..?”

"I'm a hero, Kiku! Heroes don't need sleep," Alfred joked, though his yawn betrayed him. Besides, I wanted to show you this comic i found!

As Kiku talked about his day, Alfred’s mind drifted back to that humid summer in Tokyo. It felt like a movie scene. Alfred, rushing through a crowded district with a map he couldn't read and a burger in one hand, had collided squarely with a man carrying a stack of neatly organized folders.poof Papers flew like cherry blossoms in a gales,he had scrambled to help, babbling apologies He had spent the rest of his trip glued to Kiku’s side. They had shared crepes in Harajuku and quiet moments in shrines. Alfred had realized halfway through a dinner at a tiny ramen shop that he didn't just like Kiku—he was hopelessly, "Made in Japan" levels of in love. He never told him. How could he? “Hey, I’m leaving for the airport in three hours, but I think you’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met.” It felt too heavy for a friendship that had just started blooming.

Now, thousands of miles away, Alfred leaned his chin on his hand, watching Kiku’s pixelated image.