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Chapter 5

When I was younger, collecting accomplishments had been my goal. I wanted to look back at all the people who had sneered at me right out of high school, all the men who had wondered why I didn't get married so that someone could take care of the money aspect, all the aunties and uncles who gave my parents condolences on my career choice - I wanted to grab up every award and praise and shove it in all of their faces. I wanted to show them how wrong they all were.

"Put it right there! No, over there! No - Oh! I can't decide." Sora's face scrunched up adorably, her hair bobbing as she spun around. "You do it, Riku."

Both of them had chipped in to buy a pretty little frame, the edges a gleaming oak against the stiff paper beneath. I couldn't entirely bring myself to look at it for too long, the new award from some big-time magazine still fresh and supple as it slid beneath that glass. The wall above my little register was becoming more and more crowded, the customers coming more and more frequently and pretty soon I would be able to get more workers…

What was the point?

That question was almost blinding. I flinched under the sudden glare of it, turning shakily from the happy pair that Riku and Sora made bickering over where to hang one more paper about my bakery. The smell of quickly hardening bread tickled my nose as they went into the same confections boxes as always, headed to a local shelter down the way.

It was so strange to think of the little girl who only wanted to open a bakery, to get that first review. She knew what she wanted. She had somewhere that she was headed. Now I couldn't help feeling like I was constantly running to catch a train, never able to make it in time. As if all the things that I wanted to make me feel good about the decisions I had made would be there, just on the other side of those doors.

"Minato? Minato? Minnie!" I blinked, yanked back into the glare of the overhead lights, Sora's face inches away from mine. Riku was staring at me from her place on the ladder, the picture freshly hung, her face creased with concern. "You - you're not happy with it."

"No - I -" Emotions twisted around the words forcing their way up my throat, weighing them down until it felt like barded wire was dragging along my tongue as I forced out a laugh. "It looks wonderful - I'm just - just tired. You both should go. I'll lock up for the night."

I stared at that new picture for a long time after they left, the shop smelling of lemon and lavender, the display cases empty, ovens cold. I stared at it in the dim of a shop freshly closed, the lights all off leaving behind the glare of street life just outside of my window.

Lonely.

I was lonely.

I had Riku and Sora but they were a few years younger than me, my employees in every sense. I wouldn't cross that line - didn't feel like I could offer them the kind of confidence that came from being a part of something bigger, more intimate - cold fingers grasped my throat, squeezing tightly. Family. Being part of a family. When I had been young, there were bigger things than family. It was a concept that had the same connotations as the moon or ocean - something so all-encompassing and consistent.

And then my father had passed away.

And then my mother.

I had no brothers or sisters. Only aunts and uncles and cousins. I hadn't realized up until that point how much I had given up to achieve the bakery - how many relationships I had avoided in the pursuit of my dreams. I would never regret it. Would never spit on something that had taken so much from me in return for my only dream. But standing here, unable to come up with a single person who I wanted to tell about this latest accomplishment, I realized that I mourned the simple happiness that I could have had if I had married my first boyfriends or the one I had dumped just before opening this place. I mourned the person who would have stopped me from falling at my mother's funeral. I mourned the person who I could see, just out of reach, in a new dress, laughing as someone got her an ice cream or coffee on a surprise date to the park.

"I want a job." Yuma had always had strange eyes, oddly large, dark like pools of water that drowned the people who got too near. When she was small, she used to get teased a lot for those eyes - come home crying with "trout" or whatever other fish the local boys had learned about that week scrawled across her backpack. It hadn't helped that her parents sent her to school with zosui stew cooked with sardines. Now, those eyes shadowed by a low baseball cap seemed oddly hypnotic.

"You know I can't do that," I breathed skirting around her as I started to wrap up the sandwiches for our display baskets in the front. Yuma had had the good grace to come before we opened, the morning dawn dewy and still dappled with darkness. Sora yawned just out front, drowsily twisting her coil of dreads into an impressively heavy-looking bun atop her head.

"Mom and dad won't even know I'm here. The college is so close-"

I grimaced. "Which is another reason why I shouldn't get involved." I hefted the basket onto my hip, casting her a long glance before sighing. "You'll have a degree, Yuma. And not in the culinary arts."

Her bottom lip popped out. Every single movement jerked with her emotions, each step resounding in a silent protest at my words. Yuma always had a body like that - one step away from screaming or laughing, her very muscles pulsing with each small waver of her emotions. It was why it had been such a shock when auntie and uncle had told me that she would be going to college for marketing. It had… seemed like a decision based entirely on reality - something Yuma had been deftly avoiding since we graduated high school.

"I can do both." I shut my mouth tightly, flipping the sign at our front door and unlocking it.

I wanted to say what I was thinking. That for over 8 years she had been dodging either of those things. Right after college, while I had jumped at every job I could get, Yuma went on a tour of Europe. While I had been weeping over bills for this bakery, she had been fielding engagement offers from a series of men from here to the Americas. While I had been trying to get up after the death of my mother and father, she had been fighting against my aunt and uncle's pleas to just attend one year of college. Luxury was in her blood and apparently, luxury had also been given to her in the form of time. At 26, she was like a newborn colt, unsteady upon her feet in a world that demanded dependability.

But I wouldn't say that I didn't trust her enough to let her lay a finger on what I had created. I would never say something like that.

"I won't hire you, Yuma," I whispered, side-stepping her as she attempted to take a loaf and place it in the wrong spot. Her bottom lip jutted out another fraction.

"You've always been like this, Minnow," she fumed and I winced at the childhood name. "Why can't you just…" She let out an irritated huff. "Loosen up? Go on a date? Live a little? Do me a favor?"

I stiffened at the pointed questions. Loosening up was a fancy way of saying that I needed a life. Go on a date was right on the other side of asking why I wasn't married with kids. Living a little… well, that implied that I had a life outside of this bakery.

"Tell me why you want this job, Yuma." She didn't need it. Her parents were loaded. Grudgingly, her eyes darted to the door as it tinkled, admitting a few customers. My bakery was busy this early in the morning.

Her silence was enough of an answer. Whatever her reason, it was dirty enough to hide from me. And I wasn't particularly interested in that sort of game.

My voice softened just for her, fingers grazing the expensive material of her blouse sleeve as I gave her a small smile. "We can talk when you're willing to tell me more."

Her stare was hard enough that I knew that conversation was unlikely. She brushed me off, glaring at me. "The aunties want a dinner. Saturday at 6. Don't be late, Minnow or they might think that they need to take the train here instead."

The very thought of all of them crowded in my little bakery sent a chill down my spine. With that, Yuma left her long hair swinging past her waist, remarkably static-free. I wondered how she found the energy to look so perfect every day of her life.

"Minnow." I nearly dropped the bread that I was holding, whirling to come face to chest with the blonde-haired man who was quickly becoming more and more of a distraction in my everyday life. Staring up into the stark face, smooth from a lack of… laughter, passion - I didn't entirely know why he was becoming so… encompassing. It unnerved me.

I blinked, slightly out of breath as his eyes tracked me, taking in the smallest twitch in my stance, the way I shifted closer and then away from him. "What?"

Why was he watching me like that? Was it so obvious that my shoulder was killing me? It couldn't be. Riku and Sora had barely clued in - I kept it so well-

"Minnow." My breath stuttered, time slowing as my childhood nickname left his lips.

He had a way about him, an air of surety that I craved. Maybe that was the draw, the reason why his very presence drove me a little bit insane. It was like he was in on a secret that no one else was a part of and didn't particularly care to ever have anyone to share it with. It made people like me want to try. It was a bad move - a foolish one that called to. Maybe a bit of that lost youth that made me think that I could get him to smile.

Foolish. Immature.

People like him didn't want people like me around them.

Besides last time, I had ended our conversation insulting him.

"Sorry?" It was a struggle to force my mind back to the topic at hand and away from the fact that we were strangely close, my chest almost touching his, able to feel the barest heat off of him. It brought into focus the fact that he was big compared to me - clearly topping 6 feet and over. The slim cut and the dreary colors of his suit acted like a distraction from that fact.

You could get away with a lot in this world with a face like his - a starkness that made him oddly unapproachable. Like he didn't particularly have any emotions toward the topic - or any for that matter - at hand. Which was disconcerting because I seemed to have too many emotions toward the topic at hand.

The barest tilt of his lips made my heart jump. Was he smiling? Was that a smile? But it was here and gone so quickly that I couldn't decipher it. "She called you Minnow. The woman that just left."

Yuma. I had completely forgotten that she had even been here. Embarrassment warmed my cheeks. "Oh. Yes. Um, it's a nickname. The kids at school used to call me that when we started to learn English. Minato. Minnow. Minnie."

My mind drifted. Later it had become a bigger means to insult me - a way to call me small. A person of small size, power or influence - someone had actually looked it up. Kids were ruthless when it came to stuff like that.

His eyes bit through me, eating away at every last thought in my head. Some people had eyes like that - eyes that were so focused that it felt like they were plucking away at you, tearing away petal after petal until all that was left was the fragile bud inside.

His voice had gone softer, his body somehow dipping so that I had to crane my head back a little bit to keep a hold of his gaze. "It suits you."

My thoughts stopped, crashing into each other in a spectacular wreck that resulted in some sort of half-baked jumble of words leaving my lips in a rush. Was he - was he flirting with me? His eyes crinkled a bit at the string of sounds, taking in my stunned stare. People like him didn't flirt. Not with people like me.

He had to be insulting me.

"Ring." I struggled, searching desperately for something to get me back on track. I could feel the hot, burn of my own blush searing along my cheeks. "You need to be rung up."

I darted to the register as quickly as possible, trying not to look as flustered as I felt. I was an adult, dammit. He had barely spoken a word to me and now I was like this? How pathetic! I needed to get my head straight - get over this one-sided infatuation -

"You got another award." His voice rolled over me warmly, drawing my eyes to where his were fixed. He was definitely smiling now - his lips slightly tipped up, the severe lines of his face softening enough to take my breath away for a moment. "You must be proud. Congratulations."

"It's - it's just a small one from a magazine," I hurried to say, taking the tray with his usual order from his hands and beginning to package it. "It doesn't mean too much. It's not like I do anything important - just bake."

Ah, there was that look - the slight narrowing of his eyes, the sudden attention as he took in my lackluster response. His eyes took in the way I was avoiding his gaze, paying careful attention to pulling out a clear bag.

"You shouldn't downplay yourself." His words shook me to my very core, my whole body freezing at the quiet command in his voice. "People come here because you're good at what you do. You make them happy. Not many people can do that."

There was a sincerity in his voice that I didn't know what to do with, his words delivered with barely more than a murmur. It sounded like a gentle rebuke, like he was telling me, softly, to stop being so dumb. Why did it make my throat go tight?

700 yen slid across the desk, the change clicking pointedly. The plastic of the bag scraped harshly against my palm, reminding me that I hadn't set down his order yet. There it was again - that urge to please him. I clamped down on it, wrestling as his eyes caught mine, keeping me captive as he reached for his sandwich.

I should stop this infatuation.

"What's your name?" The question rolled from me on a single breath, blurted out with such intensity that he blinked, clearly startled. Stumbling, I tried to recover. "You-you know mine. So I just…"

The bag crinkled as he grabbed it, his eyes softening slightly as he turned to exit. "Nanami Kento."

Nanami Kento.

That would be a good thing to know the next time I was dragged to an underground gang meeting.

I wanted to bang my head against the nearest surface. How dumb could I be? Why would I ask him that? Just so I would have a name to mourn when he inevitably stopped coming here for his sandwiches? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

An older lady waddled forward, her eyes pitying as she set down a tray of breakfast breads. "You really need to do better than that if you want to catch someone like him, darling."

"Are you…" I debated saying the words. It had been only a week since I last saw him but he looked… drained. Dark circles ringed his eyes, making his pale skin seem almost wane in the morning cast. His face looked gaunt, his hair slightly out of order. "Are you alright?"

His eyes ran over me quickly. "You look like your fatigue's been building up."

It wasn't fatigue - My nape prickled at the lie, suddenly all too aware of the slump of my shoulder, the ache along my spine, the burning in my eyes. Lately, the pain in my shoulder had become so bad that I had barely been able to get any sleep. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to make it stop.

I hesitated, bringing a hand up to rub at the swollen, reddened skin at the space between my neck and shoulder, wincing. "Lately… it feels like there's a weight on my shoulder."

I winced again. That was an understatement. I took so many pain pills that Sora had started to hide them from me. I even went to a doctor but he said it was just a normal strain - something that should go away within the next week. But how was that possible when I had been dealing with it for over a month?

Outside the morning dew was still fresh on the cars, the murmur of a day that promised to be busy starting to pick up. He had come in early - early enough that I had opened the door for him as I turned the sign. It was a Sunday - a day that meant that most people would be home. Even I had cut down on my staffing, working alone this morning and letting a new hire and Riku come in in the afternoon.

Distant emotions ran across his face, his eyes firmly set on the casse-croute in its delicate wrapping. In the quiet of the fresh morning, he seemed softer.

"My job is to take money from the wealthy and make those people even more wealthy." Shock zinged along my stomach, forcing my eyes to him. He… was this some sort of way to tell me that he was yakuza? His next words stopped my breath entirely. "Frankly, no one would care if I was gone. Yet for some reason, my job which lands outside of the natural human cycle pays better."

I blinked, taken aback. "Are-are you bragging?"

"No. I'm not." His eyes were sharp enough to cut through me. Those eyes flitted to my shoulder, narrowing. "Could you take a step forward, please?"

I don't know why I did it. Maybe because even though he asked so nicely, there was an undercurrent of command in his voice that made it almost impossible to stay where I was. Maybe it was because I wanted to see what would happen. Maybe it was because I was hoping-

His hand swung out, creating a stiff straight line in the air like a line being drawn, his face tightening in concentration. I jerked, blinking up at him as a beat passed and then -

I gasped, jarred by the sudden lack of pressure pressing down at my shoulder. It had been so painful for so long that feeling the blast of lightness made me feel almost weightless. My fingers prodded at the flesh experimentally, the skin heated and still slightly swollen but somehow… better.

"How-" The doorbell tinkled, balmy summer air blasting in along with the honk of a series of cars and the babble of cit life. He was - He was just walking out.

I sprinted after him, slamming into the door as I forced it open, not caring as a couple shrieked as it almost went slamming into their faces. Down the block, I saw the broad span of his shoulders, the ruffled mess of his hair as he walked away.

"HEY - um!" I floundered, trying desperately to come up with something that would make him turn around again. Make him come back. "THANK YOU!"

I gushed. I continued to gush even when he didn't turn around. Even when he picked up his phone and dialed someone. I didn't know how he did it. Didn't know if it was all in my head. His eyes caught mine moments before he disappeared into the train station, bright, alight with something that I didn't entirely understand.

Please follow/favorite and review if you would like to see more. Reviews are my biggest source of motivation.