hello! I'm back! there's this thing called haikyuu! au week on tumblr, so i decided to write some stuff for it! day one is the coffee shop au, so here goes!
. . .
Sometimes, Kenma really, really, really hates his roommate.
"Kenmaaaaa!" Hinata just won't let up today. "Let's go! You promised me you'd come with me today!"
"I don't remember anything," he mumbles, retreating further under his blanket. "Go take Kageyama, I'm sure he'd want to go."
"But Kenma, I wanna hang out with you! We haven't done anything together in ages! And besides—Kageyama's got class today, so he can't come with us." Kenma feels the mattress dip down with Hinata's weight, and groans inwardly. His resistance (what little there was in the first place) is weakening rapidly. "And plus, the café we're going to is really cool! I went there yesterday, and the food was really good, and it's got electrical outlets everywhere, and the person working the register said that they were planning to make apple pie toda—"
"Fine..." Kenma sighs, and then yelps as his vision is flooded with bright light. "Hinata!"
"Sorry, sorry!" Something lands on him with a light thump, and he blindly gropes for it, blinking the last of the brightness out of his eyes. "But we have to get there soon; the person said they were going to make them fresh!"
"Okay. Give me a minute to change." Kenma examines the clothing that was tossed at him; just a normal hoodie and his sweatpants. He shakes out the hoodie, smiling at the little cat graphic reaching down into the depths of the single pocket.
"Kenma!" Hinata hops up from the bed, shifting from one foot to the other. "We've got to hurry! They have a line waiting every day, and it goes out the door sometimes!"
"Alright, alright," Kenma mumbles, pulling the hoodie over his head. "Do I need money?"
"Nope! I'll pay this time!" Sometimes, he can't understand how Hinata can grin from ear to ear like he is, nonstop. "It's your first time, right? You have to experience it! It's like…" Hinata struggles for an apt description, waving his hands in increasing agitation. "..well, you'll feel it when we get there!"
"I still can't believe that I'm up this early," Kenma says dryly. He tugs on the sweats, finally sliding his feet onto the floor. "Are you sure they'll have apple pie?"
Hinata grins. "I promised, didn't I?" He grasps Kenma's hand, ignoring the boy's squeak of surprise, and starts towing him towards the door. "They're opening in fifteen minutes—let's go and save a spot!"
"But—my phone—"
"It's okay, I promise! We'll be there half an hour, tops!" Hinata yanks the door open, and to Kenma's utter horror, starts to run down the hallway, still dragging Kenma along with him. "C'mon!"
Kenma feels despair sink down into the very pits of his stomach. As he picks up his speed, he dearly hopes that this apple pie is worth all this fuss.
. . .
Ten minutes later, they're standing outside of a respectable-looking establishment. Large chrome-sleeked lettering across the overhang sign read The Cat's Meow, brick walls with large windows embedded periodically. Peering through the glass, Kenma can see nothing but sleek wood and plush sofas, the latter scattered in little clusters around the place. There's only a couple of people around, waiting for the cafe to open, not the hordes that Hinata had described, and he's already getting antsy. He can feel his fingers itching for a console already; even his phone would be okay in this situation.
Hinata, meanwhile, is chattering excitedly next to him about the greatness of this cafe. "Ooh! You haven't even seen the coffee machines in there—they're all like zwip! and pssh! and they look really cool and they send up these puffs of smoke every time they finish a drink, and the staff is super cool too! They're like Kageyama, if Kageyama was less awkward and more..cool? If he dressed all fancy and acted all fancy, so not like Kageyama at all!" Hinata grins at him.
"Hm..." He stares into the window, seeing the employees bustle about in preparation of opening the cafe. "Are you sure this apple pie is going to be good?"
"It'll be fantastic! I promise!" Hinata is appropriately cheerful, like always. "I've tried their egg rice, and it was super delicious, and I stole some of Kageyama's milkshake once and it was super amazing, and they have really good food!"
Kenma really wishes for his phone. At the very least, he'd be able to look up the reviews online for The Cat's Meow. Possibly even figure out why they chose the cheesiest name possible for their cafe. He looks over at Hinata. "Don't you think that the name of it sounds..kind of like a speakeasy?"
"Speakeasy?"
"Like those illegal bars they had in America.."
Hinata frowns, scratching his hair. "Maybe? I mean, the staff all act pretty chill and stuff, so—oh!" He brightens, looking past Kenma into the window. "Someone's coming!"
He turns his head, and sees a flutter of apron disappearing out of sight, the brick wall blocking him from seeing the person. The doors rattle and click, and swing open, the employee walking the door out to prop it open.
Kenma blinked. Oh.
Sleek black hair, rumpled up like bedhead; white collar shirt with the sleeves pushed up. If someone was looking for a real-life otome boy, this person would be close to an ideal.
This outing for apple pie has very suddenly become a terribly bad idea.
He sticks his hands in the hoodie pocket, trying to quell the panic rising up in his chest, and turns back towards the dorms. "I, uh, need to go."
"Eh? Kenma!" Hinata yelps, looking towards the door, and back at him. "But we're here! I can get the pie super quick!"
"I don't want to." That's a lie. "I'm not hungry." Also a lie.
"Oh, that's a pity." A new voice interjects with a drawl, and Kenma feels his spine stiffen. "I made sure this batch was going to be delicious."
"Wow! Really?" Hinata sounds awed. "Did you make it yourself?"
"Everything we do is made by Akaashi and Oikawa, usually, but yeah. I helped out this time." Kenma can hear the amusement in the employee's voice. "What do you say?"
"Yes! Hey, Kenma, do you want me to get you some?" Kenma flinches.
"Uh...yeah." He turns around, slowly, reluctantly, stepping back as he does so. "Sounds good."
"Come in, valued guests," the employee says, sweeping a mock bow. "Please excuse the wait; they're still taking the pies out of the oven." He stands up straight, and Kenma feels a shiver run down his back as he smiles at him.
There is no way that he's not dreaming. This sort of ridiculous—smooth—charm doesn't happen in real life.
"Are you sure you don't want to come in, Kenma?" Hinata's already inside, sticking his head out around the doorframe. "It won't be that long, I promise!"
"It's alright.." He looks back longingly at the dorms. "I'll head back now."
"Oh, okay! See you back at the dorm!" Hinata calls, and disappears from sight.
Kenma lets out a shaky sigh, turning back towards the dorms. He shouldn't have woken up this early, for apple pie.
"I'm Kuroo, by the way." Kenma flinches, stopping abruptly. "Nice to meet you, Kenma." He knows, if he turns around now, the self-introduced Kuroo will try to talk to him, and he can't he can't he can't—
He sucks in a breath. "N-nice to meet you too," he mumbles, and hurries towards the dorms.
He misses the look in Kuroo's eyes as he follows Kenma's hasty escape, and the way he looks towards Hinata, mouth opening to ask a question.
. . .
What he does get, later that morning, is his apple pie—with ten numbers written down the side of the pastry bag. If you want, reads a scrawled note underneath it.
"Y'know Kuroo, right? The guy who opened the door?" Hinata sinks onto Kenma's bed, next to him. "He kinda did this—I mean, I tried to pay, but he said it was on the house."
"Hm." Kenma reaches for his phone, still staring at the pastry bag. "That's..hm."
"You should text him back! He's really nice—he works the register, and everyone likes him. He's a decent guy!" Hinata munches thoughtfully on his own pastry, a meat bun. "He asked if you didn't like talking to people in person, and he asked me to let you know that he wouldn't mind if you didn't text him, or reply, but you really should! He might give you more apple pies!"
"You don't have to give me that kind of advice, you know." Kenma unlocks the phone, tapping in the number, naming the contact 'Kuroo'. "I don't want to text him yet, but it's useful having peoples' phone numbers."
"I guess so..." Hinata shoves the last of the bun into his mouth, and bolts upright. "Oh, wait—I forgot that Kageyama's class is ending soon! I gotta go meet him sorry bye!" He scrambles off the bed, sprinting towards the door. "Let me know if you text him back!" The door slams behind him, and Kenma is left in relative silence.
He leans back against the wall, hearing the low hum of white noise start to set in. Kuroo doesn't seem like the type to give out his phone number to random customers—customers that didn't even buy anything, which was even more suspicious. Why would someone like Kuroo give his number to someone like him?
It's not as if he doesn't want to reply, though.
Kenma lifts up the phone to eye level, looking at the newly created contact. He presses 'New Message', fingers hovering over the keyboard. Kenma slowly taps out a 'Hello', then backspaces, watching the cursor blink away. He bites his lip, typing out two characters, and before he can muster up the sense to stop, presses the 'Send' key.
YOU: hi
He clutches the phone, sprawling out on the bed. He's not waiting for a response, really; he just wants to make sure he doesn't miss any messages.
The day is warm, a nice change from the chilly winter and early spring. He stretches out, enjoying the sunshine that seeps into the room. It feels so pleasant on his skin, and he's still tired from waking up so early...
He falls asleep like that, phone held tight, outside clothes still on.
. . .
Kenma wakes with a buzzing sound from his phone. Still half-asleep, he squints at the display.
KUROO: 3 new message(s)
The drowsiness fades away, and he sits upright on his bed, opening the chat.
KUROO: is this kenma from this morning?
KUROO: hi back :D
KUROO: if not, hi to u too
Kenma feels something loosen in his chest. He's not sure what he was expecting; what he was on edge for, even. The panic from this morning isn't here: this is something he's familiar with. He can text Kuroo. Texts aren't as daunting as talking to him in-person.
His fingers hover over the fingerboard, and type out a reply.
YOU: i'm kenma
YOU: hi