Cocoa

“I think she’s going to like you."

"You said that last time, Sakura. We both know how that turned out.”

"Who, Minju? Look, not everyone can be perfect girlfriend material like me. That was a bad idea, I'll admit—but this time it's totally different, and I know you're going to adore her. Don't you trust me?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

Sakura shoots you a glare, adjusting her coat as she fiddles with the keypad to her apartment. "Well, this time I mean it. I think she’s perfect for you.” 

You have to roll your eyes at that, because so far, every girl she’s picked for you has been a downright disaster. “Perfect? Pretty sure you said that two girls ago. I’m starting to think you don’t really know anything about the type of girls I go for.” 

Sakura unlocks the door and practically pushes you inside. The moment the door shuts behind you, she takes her coat off, hanging it up in the closet right next to the doorway and turns around to face you. 

"Of course I do—you go crazy over those quiet, shy types. Tall, long legs, with pretty eyes and a charming smile. Brunette, not blonde. Oh, and a nice ass of course. This one fits every last criteria." 

"That's way too specific," you say, taking a seat on the couch as Sakura beelines straight for a bottle of wine that's left uncorked and pours herself a glass. "Besides, you really don't have to keep playing matchmaker. I'm perfectly fine doing things on my own, you know."

Sakura quickly kicks her high heels off and casually plops herself down beside you, placing her bare feet atop the coffee table as she takes a generous sip before setting her wine back down. "You haven't been on a date in what, four months? That doesn't seem perfectly fine to me."

You sigh. "I'm not in any hurry to get back into the dating scene, Sakura."

"Not when I can do it for you," Sakura says, with this wide smirk of hers forming across her lips as she shifts back into the sofa, smug as ever. She takes a long sip of wine before continuing, swirling it around slowly. "Speaking of which, you're meeting her Friday."

"Friday? This Friday? That's in like two days," you reply, taken aback by how sudden this all is. "I don't even have anything to wear. Where am I even supposed to meet her?"

"Relax," Sakura tells you, placing her hand on your shoulder. "You'll be fine. Just show up, wear something casual, and be yourself."

"Easy for you to say," you grumble as you struggle to keep your composure. Sakura just stares, her soft gaze making everything a thousand times harder to resist. 

"Trust me. She'll fall head over heels for you. Promise."

It's late in the evening by the time Friday comes around. Winter has made its presence known for several months, so unsurprisingly, it's snowing. Which means you'll have to dress warmly, especially if the only instructions Sakura gave you are the nearby park by that little cafe you always visit downtown. 

A quick taxi ride and you arrive, not quite sure what you’ve gotten yourself into when the snow starts coming down a bit harder than expected.

You don't even exactly know who you're meeting, but you can’t imagine there’s anyone else here when the weather is like this, which should make whoever it is easy to spot. Thankfully, it doesn’t take long to find this mysterious girl, a bright pink scarf in the distance acting as a beacon in this white landscape. So carefully, you walk up a snowy staircase that leads up to where she is, stopping right at the last step when she turns around. 

She's beautiful. Maybe the prettiest girl you've ever seen, even under all these layers. And she’s everything that Sakura mentioned—tall, brunette, gorgeous eyes with a smile to match. 

“What are you doing just standing there?” 

“Me? I’m totally waiting for you. You must be Sakura’s friend, right?” 

Not that there would be anyone else crazy enough to meet a girl for a date in weather like this. “Guilty.” 

“I’m Kazuha, Nakamura Kazuha,” she introduces, adjusting the scarf wrapped around her neck. “Sakura told me I was meeting someone cute, so it seems you fit that description.” 

You’re stunned—surprised to hear something so charming right off the bat while she offers a gloved hand out. You’re not easily smitten, you tell yourself, but there’s something about this girl that makes words difficult—but eventually, you compose yourself, grabbing her hand and taking a deep breath to respond.

“Sakura says lots of things.”

“Oh, I’m sure most of them are true.” That damn smile shows itself again—and it warms you up more than anything could in this frigid weather. Maybe you’ll have to thank Sakura after all, because this girl is every bit your type and more. 

You follow Kazuha’s snow-covered steps, until she takes a seat on the nearby swing set, a clear invitation for you to join. There's relative silence for the next moment, both of you staring at the fresh powder that surrounds the small playground. 

"So…was meeting at the park in the snow your idea or hers?" you ask almost sarcastically, following her lead and swinging the slightest amount, just enough to get some momentum going.

“Sakura’s. I told her I love the outdoors, so she suggested this place."

"In the winter? At night?"

"She said it would be romantic. And what's more romantic than cold weather and darkness?" Kazuha chuckles, swinging with just enough force to raise herself up in the air for just a moment. "We get weather like this all the time back home. It's what we’re used to."

You can’t say you share the sentiment. While you’re not a stranger to snow days, it’s hard to get used to bundling up just to walk down the block during the later part of the year. It’s admirable how unaffected Kazuha is by it—she hasn't even shivered once since making her introduction. Despite that you’ve made this your permanent residence for years, you can’t exactly handle the cold for more than an hour or so. 

"Japan, right? Sakura never mentioned exactly where you were from, just that you two were friends back in college."

"Oh yeah. We were roommates. We did everything together, but then ended up going separate ways after we graduated. I moved here a few months ago, and somehow bumped into her again."

"And then she decided to be your personal dating service…"

Kazuha laughs. "She doesn't take no for an answer, does she?"

"No, I’m afraid she never does."

The conversation trails off as you stare back up at the sky, watching the snow fall as the creak of the swings becomes the only thing audible. 

"Well," Kazuha starts, steadying the swing as she stands up. “You look cold. There’s a cafe close by that probably has some hot chocolate. How does somewhere warmer sound?” 

Anything sounds better than freezing your ass out here. 

“Yeah, sounds nice,” you answer, hopping off the swing to follow Kazuha back down the stairs and walk along the path together that leads out of the snowy park. It doesn’t take long to reach the cafe, only suffering a few mere moments in the cold. 

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” Kazuha asks, looking up at the menu and all the different options offered, hot and cold drinks and all these various pastries that sound delicious. You nod in agreement while she steps up to place your order. “Two medium hot chocolates, please. One with whipped cream and—“

“Just plain for me,” you say, wanting to keep it all simple. 

“Coming right up,” the girl behind the counter says with a smile as you both take a seat by the window that gives a perfect view of the snowfall. 

“It’s so pretty. Does it usually snow this much?” Kazuha asks while she pockets her gloves and hangs her coat on the back of her chair. It’s far from unusual. This type of weather can last all the way into April if it wants, but there’s something different about the timing, like the universe has somehow planned this snowy backdrop just for your date. 

“It’ll be like this for the next several months, usually.” 

Kazuha smiles brightly at the thought. Your drinks arrive shortly after, one plain hot chocolate for you, and one with an obscene amount of whipped cream for Kazuha who looks so eager to dive in. 

“It’s delicious.” It only takes one sip to form her opinion, giggling after she wipes leftover whipped cream and puts her warm mug down. “How about yours?” 

You take your first sip before answering, savoring the way it warms up your body just right, the taste of chocolate lingering in your mouth. “Perfect. I can feel my hands again.”