Smoke Signals
Summary: Mimi accidentally goes on someone else's date. [Oneshot]
And you
You must've been looking for me
"Smoke Signals" by Phoebe Bridgers
Hi, Kou! So I'm out getting coffee, and it's like weirdly busy, I've been in line forever, this barista is completely incom—oh, hello, yes, iced nonfat caramel macchiato with oat milk, please, thank you so much, you're so sweet—petent. Just utterly incompetent. Anyway, I had a minute and thought to ring you back. What are you up to? And why'd you even call me last night anyway? You're a texter—talking's not like you. No, it's not. You want to be a talker but you're not, which is why I always end up keeping all these conversations afloat, single handedly, like I am right now, only—what do you mean 'get a word in edgewise'? I do too let you talk! I let everyone talk! I even let this—oh, they've called my drink, thank God, I'm like so desperate for caffeine right now, and—ugh, gross, what is this? Excuse me, is this oat milk? Okay, well, I asked for oat milk, so—oh. Sorry. Here you go. And friendly advice, okay, but I had some, and it's disgusting, and your girlfriend should definitely rethink her order in the future, like, for her own reputation. All right, I'm back waiting again, someone else had nearly the same drink as me. Why do people drink milk anyway? Blech. No, it's not. No. Oat milk might have milk in the name but it's not real milk. Stop making stuff up, Koushiro, or I'll hang up. What do you mean 'good'?
Just sent the pic. Did you get it? Isn't it cute? I found two of them. No, I don't see any other colors, just these. Oh, stop, you would not look like an aubergine in this. Would not! And you have not gained weight. Well, ignore whatever your sisters say. It's bad for the baby. No, not aubergines—the family drama. You're kidding. I mean—he wouldn't be my first choice. I don't know, maybe Yamato? What does it matter anyway? I'm absolutely not having children. Well, for starters, stretch marks are a lifelong bitch afterwards, and there's no way I—well, honey, that's why I'm getting you two of these slips so that no one sees them! I mean, sees nothing, sees nothing! There's nothing to see! You—listen to me, okay?—you are a beautiful, intelligent, delicious aubergine, Miyako. You can trust me on these things, right? Don't I have excellent taste? And I love aubergine. It's the best vegetable. You can grill it, saute it, broil it, bake it, mash it—these are my purchases, excuse me, all right? Hands off—it's so versatile. It adapts, just like you, because you, my gorgeous girl, can handle anything. Even this woman side-eyeing me because her boyfriend was too slow picking out clothes I've clearly already claimed, hello, that's right, move along. God, open air markets really do bring out the oddest characters.
Where are you? I've been waiting twenty minutes! There's a huge line out the door and people are throwing me dirty looks being at this table by myself—I swear to God if you're trying to bail on me, I will tell your mother what you did to that absolutely gorgeous midcentury dining table of hers, or should I say 'who'? Just try me, Takaishi. I know where all your bimbo bodies are buried. Okay, if you dated anyone up to my standards, maybe I'd think about being nicer to them. Wasn't the last one some like social media influencer? Well, sure, except she was hawking her own homemade wax re—look, I told you, I'm not moving, my friend is just on his way, he's literally just out parking the car—what do you mean you're 'still in bed'? What—no, this isn't him, I'm talking to someone else—oh, fine! I'll wait at the bar. Ugh, this is so embarrassing. You're embarrassing me and you're not even here. Instead, I'm getting seated at the bar like a total loser. People are going to think I'm stuck here with an alcoholic cheapskate who couldn't even think ahead to reserve a table for me, like this guy over here—yes, I heard you the first time, I'm only going to be here a few minutes, all right? Honestly, you should be worrying over your girlfriend instead of me. I'd have snuck out that bathroom window a long time ago if someone brought me to a place as nice as this and then told me to eat at the bar—did you hear that, Takeru? You're a cheapskate, and I can't wait to tell your mother all about this.
Sora, thank God, you called. Yes, this is an emergency—what? No, I'm fine, I'm just having the worst day ever—first I almost drank milk, and then Takeru totally ditches me at dinner, and now—yes, that is an emergency! It's my emergency! Why can't you be supportive of me during these extremely personally and emotionally trying times? Wait—no, don't hang up, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'll never text you emergency in all caps again, okay? I promise. Except honestly one of these days it will be a real emergency and then you'll be real so—no, I wasn't muttering. I'm not talking to you, I'm talking to this—this couple on the other side of this bench, excuse me, hello, I'm trying to have a conversation over here, okay? Maybe take this date somewhere more private, this is a public park, we don't all need to be part of this failing production you're running—see, I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to other people. I'm not bothering anyone! They're just strangers, who cares? Well, actually, he sort of looks familiar…but then he looked so relieved when I interrupted—wait a minute, stop distracting me! Can we please get back to me and my horrible day? First off, this random barista tried to poison me with a whole milk macchiato this morning, can you believe? Sora, I haven't had milk in years, it basically is poison to my body at this point, I honestly don't know why you even let the kids drink any. What would Jou say? Oh, who cares what he thinks.
Hi, darling, are we still on for tomorrow? Oh, finally, some lovely news on this wretched end of the day. You're always so reliable, Meiko, I'm so glad I am here to teach you everything I know. For example, never say yes to dinner with Takeru the day after he's spent the night out with Willis and Iori, and don't ever underestimate what sort of wingman Iori can be. He's the entire reason Jou can't even look at a bottle of tequila without getting sick. It's always the quiet ones…. Like the other day, for example, when—oh, fuck. No, sh! It's—hold on, hold on, I need to hide—why are these shelves so narrow! Sh! Just give me a minute! Okay. Okay, I think it's safe. No, it's nothing, of course, I'm fine—there's just—I've been running into this one person lately. I think I saw him when I got my coffee, and I'm pretty sure he was at the restaurant Takeru ditched me at, and now he's turned up at the corner store, like, is that not weird? It's just too much of a coincidence. Ah! He saw me! Wait, no, he didn't. Oh, my God, he's still with her, too. This girl, I don't know, I think they've been on this date, like, just about the worst date ever, it's sort of funny. Well, it's not like I'm trying to be in the same place, am I? These are all my normal places—plus, that's the point, they're mine! I'm not messing up my routine for some random—oh, fuck, he definitely saw me that time.
Mama, I don't want to alarm you, but I think I have a stalker—two stalkers, actually. There's two of them. They've been following me all day. First at the coffee shop, then at the open market, then at dinner, and afterwards when I cut back through the park, and now at my train stop—no, I am not being dramatic! I'm not exaggerating anything, this is really happening to me, literally as we speak! How are you brushing this off? I call you in a panic about the well being of me, your only child, and—no, Daisuke does not count as a back up! You don't get to have back ups! What do you mean, 'not even Yamato'? I—you know what, fine! Fine! Maybe I should get myself kidnapped by weird bar tab guy with his creepy milk-drinking girlfriend, is that what you want? Whole milk, actually. I know, disgusting, thank you! Oh, Mama, you're the only one who really understands me. Yes. Yes, I know. Okay. Right, I'll see you then. Okay. Okay. Okay, I—yeah. Mama. Uh-huh. Well, I don't—sure. Yes. Yes. Right. Absolutely. And I mean it's not like you—yes. Okay, Ma, I have—uh-huh—I have to go—well, it's my train. No, no, I'm fine, I'll take my chances. I don't even think it's really it's him, I think I—
"Hi."
She's lost for a minute, staring at that warm, wide smile. A breath, and then, "Hi." Her eyes narrow. "Are you stalking me?"
He laughs, running a hand through brown curls so unkempt it shouldn't make her pause, except she does, except everything does. "Are you stalking me?"
"Point taken." She lowers the phone from her ear, holding it tightly in her lap where she's seated on a bench near the end of the platform. Recovered, and with an exaggerated appraising look over his posture, she tilts her head, "How'd it go?"
His brows crinkle in a smirk. "Pretty terrible, actually."
"I could have told you that."
"Exactly," he answers, a beat too quick. "It's not that often I can get an instant play by play of a bad date."
Her hazel eyes roll back with far too much drama. "I'm more than sure she has a few pointers of her own she could review."
"Could be," he admits, as he makes to sit next to her on the bench, leaving a space between them, "except, somehow, over the course of the day, I've started to think yours would be much more," his smile grows wider, "the kind I'd like to hear."
Her lips purse, allowing a low smile to mirror his back. "Wouldn't be free."
"Wouldn't dream of it." He extends a hand, a hello, an I think it's you. "I'm Taichi."
She reach outs to a crackle of electric static, and then—"Her name is Mimi and she's single—,"
"Mama, oh my God, hang up!"