These get shorter every time I finish them, whoops. One day, I'll go back to the longer formats.

"You just ordered a smile and I look at you like you're batshit insane before bursting out into laughter."

PAIRING: YUKIHIRA SŌMA x KOBAYASHI RINDŌ


Rindō decided that she hated working in a café.

She had no idea what she was thinking before, thinking that this would be so fun. All of the novels she had read had prepared her for quirky regulars and irate managers and a life of never-ending effervescence. She had wanted all of that desperately, and it had led her to apply for and get this job at the Bean & Leaf (and honestly, what kind of a name was that for a café?!), and it was all for nothing. Perhaps she was paid more than the usual amount (all it had taken was a toothy smirk at the manager, a flustered white-haired man who she delighted in calling Ei-kun just because of how much it caught him off-guard) and yes, she guessed that she should be grateful to get a job so easily out of university, but in all fairness it was a job at a café, nothing like the kinds of opportunities she could have had lining up for her with her degree in psychology.

It was a slow morning. It was the slowest of mornings. Oh god did she hate mornings, especially the ones that seemed to plod along with the celerity of a turtle weighed down by lead. Rindō leaned against the counter, staring at the laptop screen of the woman sitting at the table sort of in front of her. She had ordered a black coffee and put in one of the little creamers, which baffled Rindō—why would someone want such a bitter drink in the first place and then only offset it with such a small amount of glorious cream, and not even a single grain of sugar? The woman had come in and ordered the same thing before (small Americano, no room for milk) and no amount of casual scrutiny gave Rindō an answer about what was happening behind the woman's round spectacles.

She seemed to be typing up a paper? Maybe she was a student at the university nearby, the one that Rindō had just graduated from. The coffee order would make a lot more sense if that was the case.

She heard a pleasant jingle as someone opened the door. "Weeeelcome to the B-and-L!" she bellowed, quickly standing as straight as possible to look like the perky, excited barista that she had to be. A bored barista didn't get tips, and even though Rindō didn't exactly need them, pocket money was nice to have.

A young man with spiky red hair had walked in and was in the process of staring at the menu when he started at her words and glanced over to her. Rindō quickly observed his leather jacket, the white band t-shirt he was wearing (she didn't understand the interest in CHVRCHES personally, but to each their own, she supposed), the dark wash slim fit jeans, and the skateboard he held under an arm. She quickly began ringing up for one of the mixed coffee drinks that they served (latte, maybe? Or a café au lait; he seemed the type) in preparation for his order. The stupid register always took ten seconds longer than it would have at its best, and it was terribly awkward to stand in blank silence while the customer waited on their receipt.

"B-and-L? Where's the T?" the young man said.

Rindō paused in her typing, blinking at the young man before her face cracked open in a huge grin. "That's what I said!" she crowed in response. "I guess the owner isn't anywhere near as brilliant as we are. Don't tell Ei-kun I said that, though."

"Ei-kun?"

"My manager." She waved him off. "Anyhow, how can I help you?"

The young man seemed to think over all of his options before addressing her with a way-too-innocent expression. "How about a smile?"

Rindō was certain that she hadn't heard that correctly. "Sorry?"

He nodded firmly. "Yes. I'd like a smile, please."

Was this boy insane? She looked at him more carefully—he looked just slightly younger than the woman who had come in earlier, and it was only due to her years of practice and study that Rindō recognized the thin veil of mischief in his gaze.

She couldn't resist anymore. She started cackling, the force of her laughter making her double over the register. It was the kind of laughter that made you panic and worry for yourself because you definitely weren't breathing enough and you were choking on your laughter as you tried to stop so you could goddamn BREATHE but then you remembered the punchline and started laughing all over again and she was both charmed and extremely irritated at him for provoking it.

"Oh god, oh god, uncle, uncle!" Rindō called out, slapping the counter with a hand as the other curled around her aching midsection. As she coughed out the last few giggles from the back of her throat, she looked back up at the young man, who looked far too much like the cat who ate the canary in his smugness.

"What can I say, I'm a comedic genius," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and leaning back with a casual assurance in his pose.

"I can tell," she said teasingly. "Well, we don't quite have smiles for sale here, but I can probably do that custom for you, if you'd like." She winked at him as an addendum before amusedly watching him splutter a bit. He just managed to nod his head before she beamed at him. "Cool! That'll be 350 yen," she said sweetly, holding her hand out for his money.

It took her only a few minutes to whip up her perfect café au lait (dark roast, whole milk, just a tiny hint of cocoa and creamer, prepared to be the perfect canvas for her) and as she waited for it to settle a bit, she began to carefully cut out the shape that she wanted from a spare coffee filter. Once she was satisfied with her handiwork, she put the template on top of the brewed drink and carefully dusted more cocoa on top. She removed the template, smirked at her handiwork, and turned to present the completed drink to the young man with a flourish. He quirked an eyebrow (scarred, but long-healed; a childhood accident, perhaps?) at the innocent cocoa smiley face that Rindō had sprinkled on top of the drink.

"That's innovative," he said. "Pity I have to put a lid on your artwork."

Rindō snorted. "I can always make more. Just enjoy your drink, and come on back soon, y'hear?" She winked at him playfully and waved to him as he walked out with a previously unseen dazed smile. Rindō took out her phone and began counting the seconds that passed before he found the phone number she had written on the coffee sleeve.

About forty-two seconds later, she received a simple yet identifying text from an unknown number: :)


I am personally uncertain about the text vs. email culture in Japan, so I'm just drawing on my own [American] experiences for the texting thing, haha.

Hint for next time: I've decided to go a bit off of the rails and try out another weird pairing. No main characters this time, really, just a happy-go-lucky game-r girl and an uptight wannabe gangster.