Taro shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he stood behind the bush, clutching his bento box like it was his last line of defense. The warm breeze rustled the bamboo nearby, but all he could focus on was the person sitting alone. Just like him.

He winced, running a hand through his hair.

Come on, it's just lunch. You're not asking him to marry you.

He exhaled through his nose, trying to calm the nerves that clawed at his chest. It wasn't like he didn't want to eat with them—actually, he'd always been kind of curious about them. Not many people hung out in the zen garden alone. And the one time they talked... well, it wasn't much. Just burrowing a pencil.

He stepped out from behind the bush a little too suddenly. A branch snagged his sleeve, nearly yanking his arm back, and he fumbled with a muttered curse before composing himself.

“Smooth,” he whispered under his breath. Real smooth, Taro.

With a stiff, determined walk that probably looked more like a nervous shuffle, he approached them. His heart hammered. He rehearsed the line one last time in his head, then said it out loud.

“Can I join you?” he asked, his tone carefully leveled, friendly but casual. His smile was a little unsure, but earnest. He held up his bento slightly like a peace offering.

He hoped to god he didn't look as awkward as he felt.