NXYZ Community Christmas Fic Exchange
Title: The Morning Shift
Written for: HaveYouNoMercy
Message: I combined your two prompts for some reason. It's not the most action-filled fic, but it's something. I know you didn't get the suspense of a mystery author writing your fic like everyone else, but I hope you enjoy this anyways :)
Pairings/Genres/Rating: Mukahi/OC, Horio/Tomoka, mentions of other canon/OC pairings – friendship, romance – T
Beta: Miss Owl
A/N: I've said it again and again, but I just can't write short one-shots. Or Hyotei. Also, a merry Christmas to whoever celebrates, and happy holidays to anyone else.
Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis, Starbucks, or any movies mentioned or referenced.
The Morning Shift
Mukahi worked the morning shift at Starbucks.
Mukahi served idiotic, whiny college students who were addicted to caffeine.
Mukahi was the poor soul who had to deal with the other two baristas on the morning shift.
Iwasaki was studying literature. He seemed obsessed with reading – more so than Oshitari was, and that's saying something because Oshitari was an avid reader. He was notorious for flirting with every female that walked through the glass doors.
Mukahi thought he was a man whore.
Kimura was studying film. She seemed obsessed with changing her hair –Mukahi could have sworn it even changed during her shifts. She was the almost-literal representation of coffee. Her eyes were as brown as a decaff with extra cream.
Mukahi thought she was annoying.
Mukahi stood behind the counter every morning adjusting the green smock he had to wear. Kimura called it an apron. He thought that was too girly. By calling it a smock, he retained what little was left of his pride. Starbucks took that away when he got his first paycheck two years ago. He was a slave to the coffee business that would one day take over his world (if it hadn't already).
It was the Monday morning shift at Starbucks.
Oshitari was coming in – he was a Monday morning regular. Kimura was make-up free and rocking a ponytail, just like every other Monday. Iwasaki was going to cross out the "caution" on "caution hot" and rewrite "you're" for the cute girl he wanted to get with. Mukahi was sneaking sips of espresso when no one was looking.
"We need more tall cup caps," Iwasaki said as he searched through the shelves on above the back counter. "Mukahi, can you go get some? I'll take any customers that come in."
The cute girl had just walked in. Iwasaki probably just wanted to make sure he was the one to serve her, but Mukahi didn't point that out. It was Monday. He didn't have time to deal with Iwasaki and his girls.
"I'll get 'em," Mukahi said. He felt like he was back in junior high, running to get the balls Atobe had told him to gather despite the fact that he was a third year. "You lost," he used to say, "so you pick up the balls. Perhaps you'll recognize them and be able to hit them correctly next time." Oh, those were the days.
"I'll come," Kimura said as Mukahi walked past her. It was never busy on Mondays. The Starbucks they worked at was on the Hyotei University campus, and only a few students had morning classes. Half the people who came in on Mondays were hung over; that was entertaining.
The two baristas headed back to the storage room. He could still hear the soft sounds of the music coming through the speakers out front. Mukahi walked towards the boxes stacked up like square mountains, Kimura pulled out her ponytail and put it into a bun. Mukahi grabbed a box, Kimura put her hair back into a ponytail. Mukahi put the box back, realizing it had been the wrong one, Kimura tugged her hair tie out, slipping it onto her wrist.
"Do you know where the tall caps are?" Mukahi asked as he knelt to check the labels on the boxes at the bottom of the stack.
Kimura walked over and squatted next to him, her hair curly and not brushed. The two spotted the box at the same time, reached out, bumped hands, and stood up – all in synch.
"Well, that was weird," Kimura said.
Mukahi rolled his eyes – really, why did she have to say something about such a stupid mishap? – and then knelt back down to get the box. Kimura lifted the boxes above it off, moved them to the side, waited for Mukahi to get the box he needed, and then put the upper boxes back in place.
The two returned to the front of the shop. Mukahi put the box on the back shelf. Iwasaki was flirting. The same song was still playing. Mukahi wondered whether he would get a migraine from the expresso or the music. Probably both. Plus Kimura. That girl irked him. He didn't know why. He figured it was a shallow reason, and he was too full of himself to admit that.
Iwasaki had just said good bye to the cute girl, who was smiling at her cup. Iwasaki immediately lost all redeeming qualities when she left, including that smile he got when she walked in. Then again, he got that smile when any girl with a nice butt walked in.
Kimura slung an arm around Iwasaki's shoulder, crossed her ankles, and said, "'You know how to whistle, don't you, Steve? You just put your lips together and blow.'"
"Very funny, Kimura."
"Go ahead. Let that fox call out."
Iwasaki gave her a look, moved away from her arm, sat on the back counter, and opened a book he pulled out of freaking nowhere. Mukahi wondered if Oshitari and that guy were related. Oshitari used to do that all the time in high school. They'd be sitting in chemistry, and the next thing Mukahi knew, Oshitari was reading a play by Shakelance or something.
As if by magic, Oshitari walked through the doors. He hadn't changed much. None of the old gang had changed much. Appearances much have changed, but they were still the same people. Mukahi still jumped just for the heck of it. Shishido still had that short fuse. Ohtori still hadn't sworn. The little things that made them them were still there, even if the outside was different.
Oshitari adjusted his glasses, which were now real, and stood in front of Mukahi's register. "The regular."
Mukahi nodded, typed in a few numbers, and held out his his hand. Oshitari handed him the money, and after a minute, Mukahi was handing him a tall iced coffee (sweetened) and a cranberry orange scone. Even after getting his food, Oshitari lingered by the counter; it's not like anyone else had walked in. On his way out, he would order a morning bun to eat during his first class, sociology. He was working for communications in Atobe's company once he graduated.
"How are your classes going?" Oshitari asked mechanically.
"Alright. We still going to that movie this Saturday with Shishido and Taki?"
Oshitari nodded once. "Yes. Ohtori might be coming as well, but I can't be sure."
"Whatever."
After ten minutes of chit chat, Oshitari had finished his scone. He checked the time on his phone, sighed, ordered his morning bun, and then left with his half-finished coffee. The door chimed on his way out.
"Mukahi, wanna split this?" Kimura asked, holding a raspberry scone.
Mukahi walked over, ripped off a small piece, and popped it into his mouth. Iwasaki turned around without warning, and did the same. Kimura was smiling. Mukahi didn't know why she was smiling. Iwasaki had already turned back around.
"Why are you smiling?" Mukahi asked.
"It's a good Monday, don't you think?" She was wiggling where she stood to the song, which had changed to something Mukahi didn't know the name of. She liked dancing nearly as much as film. "'The stuff that dreams are made of.'"
Mukahi had heard that phrase somewhere, but he didn't know where. Mukahi understood some of the references Iwasaki made to literature because they were the same ones Oshitari used to make. Whatever she was referencing, he didn't know.
Still, he did have to give it to her: that particular Monday wasn't that bad.
It was the Tuesday morning shift at Starbucks.
Shishido and Ohtori were coming in, and so were Marui and Akutagawa – they were Tuesday morning regulars. Kimura had her hair like a fifties American girl and the dolled up face to boot. Iwasaki was reading a book between customers, smiling sweetly whenever a cute girl came over. Mukahi did his chemistry homework at the back counter since Iwasaki and Kimura were working the registers.
Shishido and Ohtori came in. Kimura suddenly became aware that they needed more grande caps, announced that fact, and went to the back room to get them. Mukahi set his chemistry book down, sighed, and took over her register. Ohtori got his usual: an apple fritter and a green tea latte with soy milk. Shishido also got his usual: a cheese danish and a tall decaf coffee.
The three talked for a moment about this and that before they went to sit down. Mukahi wasn't certain, but he had a feeling those two still played tennis. Mukahi didn't anymore. He missed it from time to time while walking past that picture of the old team that sat on his dresser. Six years of his life were spent playing that sport. He met his best friends playing that sport. Those old memories were a lonely ache that never seemed to leave because that sport was everything to him.
Ohtori was doing something with music. Shishido was majoring in education. Those two had always stayed friends, always been together, always forced time into their schedules to talk. Ohtori was dating some girl he would probably marry. Shishido would be the best man, and he'd give a hilarious speech. Mukahi was expecting the invitation sometime in the spring. Ohtori's girlfriend was a spring-type of girl.
Mukahi walked to the back room, realizing Kimura was taking awhile to get the caps. Tuesday wasn't that busy either, and Iwasaki could handle the attractive girl who just came in. Mukahi swung to the door to the back room open and blinked at what he saw. And then blinked again.
Kimura was dancing along to the song, which had changed without him noticing. Mukahi didn't know what the song was, but it had a nice beat. Kimura must have thought so too.
"You look like an idiot," Mukahi said. He didn't know why he said it. Probably because she would have said it to him.
Kimura stopped and turned slightly red. "'Well, nobody's perfect.'"
"Obviously I'm the exception."
She smiled at that. Mukahi smiled, too, contradicting what he had just said to her ten seconds ago. The coffee girl was annoying and idiotic in an amusing way.
Kimura walked over, grabbed his hands, and swung them back and forth in some attempt to get him to dance with her. It took a moment for him to move his feet and it turned into them, twirling and spinning with the song. It reminded Mukahi of tennis and that rush it gave him just be moving.
The door flew open as he spun her.
"Hey, Gakuto, we're – "
Mukahi turned around. Shishido was laughing.
"Ryou, I hate you," Mukahi said. Kimura pressed her lipstick covered lips together, her curly hair falling back into place. She grabbed the box she had come back to get, knocked her hip against Mukahi's as he left, and walked by Shishido without a sign of embarrassment. She had as much self-confidence as Atobe, if not more.
"Dude, marry that girl," Shishido said when she had returned to the main room. "Any girl who is short enough to be the same height as you is perfect."
"I have to get back to work." Mukahi walked towards the exit, but Shishido wouldn't move. "Ryou, stop acting like a fifteen year old. You're twenty-two."
"So are you, Mr. Spinny."
Mukahi shoved him gently, and moved back behind the counter. Iwasaki was flirting with the hot girl from before. Kimura was refilling the cups. Akutagawa and Marui were sitting at a table with their food and drinks; Mukahi wondered how long he had danced with the coffee girl. Shishido grabbed his things from the table, waved at Mukahi, big smile still in place, and left with Ohtori, who said a quick, confused good bye.
"Kimura, can you watch the counter?" Mukahi asked. She nodded.
Mukahi walked back around the counter, and sat next to Akutagawa at the table. The blond had a dark cherry yogurt parfait and an orange mango smoothie. Marui had three double fudge mini doughnuts and one of the iced drinks. Mukahi felt like he defined regulars by what they ordered.
"Why was Ryou laughing like that time Atobe got hit in the head by Ohtori's serve?" Akutagawa asked before shoving another spoonful of parfait into his mouth.
Mukahi glanced over his shoulder at Kimura, who was still dancing in place, and then back at Akutagawa. "No reason."
"She's cute," Akutagawa said.
"She is," Marui agreed. He licked his chocolate covered fingers.
"You have a girlfriend," Mukahi reminded the Rikkaidai student.
Marui shrugged. "She's not one of those idiot girls who gets mad because I look at other girls. She knows I love her. Besides, I'm her muse. She couldn't dump me unless she wants to get kicked out of art school. My genius rubs off on her."
Mukahi rolled his eyes. Akutagawa took an overly excited scoop of parfait, bouncing in his seat. He must have just woken up from a nap or something. He was as hyper as a puppy.
Marui was studying some sort of science at Rikkaidai University. He visited Akutagawa every once in awhile. Niou sometimes came. He was studying to become an engineer – he was top of his class. Akutagawa was taking a bunch of classes, not really sure what he wanted to do. He would probably end up working for Atobe. The company's youngest CEO had promised all of them jobs if they ever needed them. "I am always willing to help those who are not as great as I am," he said. He was still an egotistical jerk.
Marui and Akutagawa had becomes friends in high school. After that, Akutagawa's obsession with him lessened, and turned into a friendship. Mukahi didn't mind the Rikkaidai boy. He wasn't as bad as some of the others from his old team. Marui's girlfriend came in from time to time and took pictures and Mukahi liked how they turned out. Some of them were hanging up in the shop.
"So, that coffee girl," Akutagawa said, referring to Kimura. "You like her? She looks like a movie star."
"She's only doing it for the day," Mukahi replied. "And not really. She's a coworker."
"I think she likes you because she's looked over here ten times since you sat down."
"Eleven. She just did it again," Marui corrected. "So she likes you or you have an alien on your back. Either or."
Mukahi rolled his eyes and grinned. Akutagawa smiled, too. Marui went back to his doughnuts.
Iwasaki told Mukahi and Kimura to get more straws from the back, that it was a two man job. Coincidentally, a cute girl with a camera around her neck had just walked in. She was Marui's girlfriend. Mukahi got up and walked towards the back room with Kimura. The two waited by the door just to watch Iwasaki flirt with her and to see his reaction when she sat down next to Marui, who kissed her cheek.
Kimura and Mukahi snickered when Marui looked at Iwasaki with the intent to kill. Iwasaki calmly turned to them and said, "Just get the straws."
The two burst into full blown laughter.
Mukahi decided that that Tuesday had way too much giggling.
It was the Wednesday morning shift at Starbucks.
Oshitari was coming in – he was also a Wednesday morning regular. Kimura was half asleep since she had stayed up all night writing a paper on Godzilla. Iwasaki was in one of his moods, and refused to even smile at the girls he usually flirted with. Mukahi was (once again) in the backroom, squatting like a stupid penguin in a Starbucks smock, trying to find the box of lids for tall coffees.
Kimura walked through the door, back towards where he was, and asked, "Do you want any help, Mukahi?"
"Yes," Mukahi hissed, frustrated.
She walked over, squatted next to him, and began to look at the labels on the boxes. Curious at his response, she asked, "Bad night?"
He grunted.
"'One morning I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How he got in my pajamas, I don't know,'" she said.
Mukahi stared at her for a moment. Then they went back to the boxes. Kimura was nodding her head to a song as she looked. Mukahi would mutter curses and things along the line of "Keys... Kimura... annoying... Yuushi... freaking dorm... dumb book..."
The two spotted the box at the same time, reached out, bumped hands, and stood up – all in synch.
"Déjà vu," Kimura said.
Mukahi rolled his eyes, smiled when he caught her smiling, and then began to wonder why she smiled so darn much. She was a smile machine or something equally ridiculous. Smiling was probably up there on her favorite-things-to-do list, right below dancing to make him feel awkward and talking about movies.
Mukahi lifted the boxes above the one he had been searching for, held them until Kimura slid the box out, and then placed them back in place. He took the box from Kimura, and grumbled, "Thanks."
"You know, I woke up this morning, thought it was a Tuesday, and got really excited when I realized it was a Wednesday," Kimura said as they walked into the main store.
Iwasaki was taking Oshitari's order. Mukahi sighed, set the box down on the back counter, and walked over.
"Hello, Gakuto."
"Hey."
"Did you make it to work on time?" Oshitari asked with a small smirk that was far too similar to the one he had back in junior high. "I do apologize for making you walk all the way from my dorm."
Kimura began to unload the box. Iwasaki put Oshitari's order down on the counter. Oshitari didn't move. Iwasaki moved so Mukahi took over at that register and deal with Oshitari.
"Do you know those moments when you see an odd moment happen, and you look a complete stranger, share a look, and then go on your way?" Oshitari asked. Mukahi nodded. Oshitari reached into his pocket and pulled out a napkin. "That happened on my way here. I got her phone number. Lovely girl. Curves."
"I hate you right now."
The two talked about nothing in particular as he ate. Oshitari explained the odd moment he shared with the girl. Some weirdo had a taken a few too many shots, was dressed in a tutu, and was running away from campus security. Mukahi didn't believe it. Oshitari had probably just sweet talked some girl. That happened more often that a drunk guy in a tutu.
Oshitari ordered his morning bun, and then left. Wednesdays were almost as boring as Mondays. Only a few classes ran early, which left the three baristas with a rather slow shift. Kimura and Mukahi sat on the back counter with a trenta shaken iced green tea lemonade (sweetened) while Iwasaki read his book and ate a multigrain bagel at a table. There were a few other people in the shop, most of which were studying.
Kimura's curly hair was put up in a ponytail. Her bangs kept falling in her face, and she repeatedly clipped them back. Mukahi grinned whenever she swore because she realized another strand was in her mouth.
"One day, I am going to chop off all of my hair," she said.
"You'd miss it," Mukahi said. "You love your hair more than coffee."
She looked amused. "Oh, yeah? What about you, Mr. Tennis? Every single person you know that comes in here has a tennis key chain or a tennis bag or something. Do you play?"
"I used to. Not so much anymore. Too busy with school to get serious, and it's not fun if you're not serious."
She picked up the enormous drink they were sharing, took a sip, and then handed it to him. "Iwasaki, do you know how much sugar is in this thing?"
Iwasaki didn't look up from his book, which was even thicker than the last. "Hopefully enough to make you crash so I don't have to deal with you in economics."
Kimura grinned. "You know you love me."
Iwasaki grunted and went back to his book. Mukahi felt his gut twist, and he didn't know why.
"Your day any better? Seeing that glasses guy seems to cheer you up."
"'Cheer up' isn't the right word. We used to play tennis together. He's the friend that people hate most of the time, but can't seem to get rid of."
"The Iwasaki?" Kimura asked.
"The Iwasaki," Mukahi agreed.
"I can hear you," Iwasaki said.
Iwasaki took another bite of his bagel. Kimura and Mukahi shared their moment (even if it wasn't as funny as Oshitari's drunken-tutu moment), and then laughed.
The little moments made that Wednesday bearable.
It was the Thursday morning shift at Starbucks.
Hiyoshi and his girlfriend were coming in – they were Thursday morning regulars. Kimura was mopping the floors on the other side of the counter, dancing with the mop when a song she liked came on the radio. Iwasaki was being Iwasaki, and was writing his number out for the girl with a low cut shirt. Mukahi watched Kimura, wondering why he couldn't think when she said hello to him.
Mukahi realized something very important that morning. He had a crush on the coffee girl. Kill me, he thought.
He decided he was having a heat stroke, losing his mind, or in an alternate universe. He tried to chit-chat with Iwasaki to clear his head.
"What'cha reading?" Mukahi asked. Iwasaki showed Mukahi the spine of his book. The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest. Mukahi had never heard of it. Despite that, he said, "Cool."
The door chimed. Hiyoshi and his girlfriend came in. Her name was Natsuki. They had met on campus the past winter. Mukahi thought it was strange to see Hiyoshi happy. Hiyoshi was depressed through most of high school. Yet that girl occasionally made him smile.
"Hello, Mukahi," Hiyoshi said respectfully. "Shishido invited Choutarou to come to the movies with you and Taki on Saturday, and then Choutarou invited me."
"What?"
Hiyoshi sighed. "Half the old team is crashing your movie night."
Mukahi sighed too. "Whatever. Just pay for your own ticket. The regular?"
Hiyoshi and Natsuki both nodded. Hiyoshi always ordered an apple bran muffin and a decaff coffee. Natsuki always ordered a bowl of oatmeal and a shaken iced passion tea. They also ordered a butter croissant to split. They always came in for breakfast before their Thursday morning classes. Iwasaki still refused to believe that a girl like Natsuki, who was beautiful in her own right, was in love with a guy like Hiyoshi. Kimura though they were just adorable.
Mukahi wondered why she was adorable.
He was losing his mind. The coffee girl was not adorable. She said weird things and butted into his business when she had no reason to. She was annoying, the physical manifestation of coffee, the liquid of evil.
The couple sat at a table by the window. Watching from the counter made Mukahi wish that he could read lips. Hiyoshi was smiling. It bugged him not knowing why. They had been closer in high school than they were presently. When Oshitari randomly decided to play singles, Mukahi was stuck with Hiyoshi. Now, all he knew about the guy was that he was probably going to marry that nerdy girl and that he was studying to be a physical therapist. Mukahi made a mental note to talk to him on Saturday when he crashed movie night.
Kimura leaned against the counter next to Mukahi. "What's up?"
"Just thinking. You?"
"I stuck a straw in Iwasaki's hair. He hasn't noticed. It's been five minutes."
Mukahi glanced at Iwasaki, spotted the straw, snickered, and then looked back at Hiyoshi and his girlfriend. The two were laughing at something. Mukahi always pictured Hiyoshi as the arranged-marriage type, but Natsuki was a good fit for him. He wondered if he would get their wedding invite before Ohtori's. Hiyoshi would probably keep the wedding small. Mukahi wondered if he would make the cut.
Kimura snapped her fingers in his face. "Focus, Mukahi. You're day dreaming."
Mukahi shook his head, hair tickling his face. Kimura reached into her hair, pulled out a hair clip, and handed it to him. Mukahi clipped his triangle bangs to the top of his head.
He once again thought of old times. Taki used to make it so his hair never fell in his face. Mukahi really wasn't surprised when the boy decided to go into fashion. He had always been a little fruity. When Taki admitted to having a boyfriend, Shishido said, "You couldn't have waited one more month before coming out? Oshitari won the freakin' betting pool! Way to be lame Taki. And stupid. In fact, you suck. Can I say that to you now that we know you're gay? This is gonna be awkward. I think Choutarou is calling for me. See ya tonight at your place for Sucky Study Saturday. Crap. Not suck like – you know what I mean."
Mukahi sighed, finally taking his eyes off of Hiyoshi and Natsuki. Kimura tapped his ankle with her foot. He tapped her foot back absentmindedly, not taking notice when they repeated the motion for several minutes. Hiyoshi waved on his way out. Natsuki smiled politely, and followed her boyfriend with a spring in her step.
The song changed, and Kimura brightened up, not that she was ever down. Mukahi wondered if she had ever frowned in her life. She shrugged her shoulders and wiggled her hips to an acoustic song. He didn't care that she was dancing. He cared that dancing meant not playing footsies.
Kimura grabbed his hands, fingers laced. Mukahi danced with her, despite the strange looks from others. Iwasaki finally realized the straw in his hair.
Thursday was an indescribable day.
It was the Friday morning shift at Starbucks.
That girl and boy he recognized from somewhere, but he didn't quite know where, were coming in – they were Friday morning regulars. Kimura had come in, smiled at Mukahi, and then took her place behind the register. Iwasaki was doing inventory in the back room because their manager had lost the stock sheet. Mukahi was tapping his fingers to the song as he watched the two he couldn't put his finger on sit at a table, sipping their coffee and picking at their muffins.
The girl was gorgeous, but not a model. She was obviously a college student; she almost always had a biology textbook with her. The boy on the other hand... He wasn't gorgeous. He was a pasty kid with a unibrow and lanky limbs. He had the same textbook as the girl. Mukahi always thought they were lab partners or something.
Yet he still saw them playing footsies under the table, and he saw a box shape in the boy's coat pocket. She only smiled when he was around. He was the clumsy loser around her. They were indefinable. Definitely not just lab partners.
Kimura pulled herself onto the counter next to where Mukahi was standing. She leaned back on her hands, glanced at the two, and then looked back at Mukahi. She nudged him with her foot.
"He's going to propose," she said. "Watch."
Mukahi did watch. Soon enough, the two were getting ready to leave. After tossing their trash away, the boy returned to the table, and knocked her phone to the ground.
"You always do that, you idiot," she said, smiling.
He knelt down to one knee, put her phone on the table, and then fumbled with the box he had pulled out of his coat pocket. She smiled again, bigger and larger, and Mukahi recognized her.
"No way," he muttered. "Them?"
"'Wait a minute, wait a minute. You ain't heard nothin' yet!'" Kimura said,
Mukahi shut his trap and watched as Horio, the idiot with two years of tennis experience from Seigaku, proposed to Tomoka. She was crying when he slipped the ring on his finger. The entire store clapped when they kissed. Even Iwasaki spared a moment from his book to lightly tap his palms. Mukahi still couldn't believe it. Since when? How? What the heck just happened?
Kimura was smiling like a fool when she nudged Mukahi again. "'Cinderella story. Outta nowhere. A former greenskeeper, now, about to become the Masters champion. It looks like a mirac... It's in the hole! It's in the hole! It's in the hole!'"
"Am I supposed to get that?" Mukahi asked, completely lost. "Because I have no idea what the heck you're talking about, and I'm not sure that I want to know."
"Cadyshack." She shrugged. Mukahi finally realized all those strange things she said were movie quotes. He felt rather stupid after coming to that realization after two years of working in that shop.
Out of no where, an idea popped into his head. A random, terribly brilliant idea. He was going to make her an offer she couldn't refuse.
"Want to grab some coffee?"
Mukahi knew she wanted to laugh. She looked like she wanted to so badly it hurt. He asked out a barista who spent her entire day around coffee. She had eyes made of the stuff. She even smelled like it. There had to be a law against that.
Instead of laughing, she smiled, and said, "'Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.'"
"That a yes?"
"Do you want it to be a yes?"
He gave her an Atobe-like look – she was still annoying. "Kimura."
"It means yes, you idiot."
The door chimed, and another customer walked in. Mukahi walked over to his counter, but not before Kimura could said, "'Listen to me, mister. You're my knight in shining armor. Don't you forget it. You're going to get back on that horse, and I'm going to be right behind you, holding on tight, and away we're gonna go, go, go!'"
The door chimed again. Tomoka and Horio walked out, hand in hand, ring on her finger, smiles as large as the sky.
That Friday was the best Friday ever.
Mukahi stood behind the counter one morning watching Kimura as she adjusted her green smock. Kimura called it an apron. Mukahi realized that she was probably right, but it was still too girly. Starbucks had taken away his pride, had taken over his world, and had taken his sanity. Yet it gave him something. The coffee girl and the coffee boy – the other two baristas on the morning shift.
Mukahi thought Iwasaki didn't know who he was.
He was studying literature. He seemed obsessed with reading. He probably didn't want to face the world – that's how Oshitari was, always reading, always escaping. He had thick framed glasses and looked like a hipster the majority of the time. His jeans were too tight and he wore too many colors. He flirted with every female customer who walked in through the glass doors. He would find that love he was searching for one day. Mukahi knew he would.
Mukahi thought Kimura was – he didn't even know.
She was studying film. She liked to change her hair, and Mukahi liked how it never fell exactly the same way. She was surrounded by coffee, yet she never seemed to get enough of it. She quoted movies like it was her life, and that made Mukahi smile. Mukahi knew he would fall for that girl (if he hadn't already).
Mukahi was the poor soul who managed to develop a crush on the coffee girl he thought was annoying.
Mukahi served the idiotic, whiny college students that had amazing lives.
Mukahi worked the morning shift at Starbucks.