A/N: This is my fic I wrote for SasuHina Month 2021 and posted on Tumblr. I will now periodically be posting it here.
Thank you,
PianoCoat
Hinata Hyuuga has seen many weirdos, freaks, and oddities come to the cafe she worked at.
For whatever reason, it seemed to attract the type.
She's seen her fair share of things; drunk men falling asleep in their cheesecake, entire football teams throwing around loaves of bread like they were in the middle of a match, fully dolled-up drag queens dabbing their puckered, rainbow lips with wads of napkins. She's seen DND players in full suits of armor and women with streaks of mascara staining their cheeks as they sob in the corner over their latest breakup and people bringing life-sized plush toys to sit and eat with them and more.
So it was safe to say that Hinata Hyuuga is rarely surprised by anything nowadays.
Chapter 1
I Think That Cosplayer by the Window Is My Classmate
College life was all about schedules and time management.
For Hinata, at least.
Wake up, go to classes, study, work, sleep.
That's how the usual Thursday schedule went, and right now, at exactly 9:27 at night, Hinata was so very close to reaching that synapse between work and sleep. Just 33 more minutes, she reminded herself after glancing over at the clock on the wall for perhaps the sixtieth time that hour. Usually, time flew past her before she could even process anything, but Thursdays tended to be slow nights, and because it was nearing the time to close, she had few coworkers or customers to chat with.
She had counted the money in the register a third time and even made sure she still had all her tip money for the fifth. She swept the floors that were already dustless and wiped the tables that were already sparkling, and after doing it all, she glanced back at the wall and saw that only seven minutes had passed.
Great.
And nothing was about to distract her.
… Or, well, that wasn't exactly true.
Two customers still remained. One was a middle-aged man at Table 18 who slowly slurped at his cold cup of coffee as he shot glances at her over his folded newspaper. Hinata knew him somewhat. He was a regular customer who wasn't exactly lecherous – he never tried to touch or flirt or anything of the sort. He just liked to … observe, and while his gaze never strayed to inappropriate parts of her figure, Hinata still wasn't totally comfortable with the feeling of being watched.
And then … there was the man at Table 6.
If Temari were working that shift with her, she would have called him a freak. But that didn't seem right, so Hinata settled on man.
Because he is … right?
Well, certainly, he was no beast; but he definitely looked the part. His body was cloaked in black drab, the only patch of skin she managed to see from across the way was the white, white hand skimming the rim of his untouched glass of water. He'd been there for about two hours and ordered nothing but water that he did not drink, and whenever she would find the courage to mosie over and ask him if he needed anything, he'd … stare.
Or, well, she supposed he would stare.
She would only look at the collar of … whatever he was wearing, not daring to look him in the eye. But Hinata felt his gaze on her, practically drilling into her skull. It made sweat gather along her neck, and after a few passing seconds of overwhelming silence, she'd go back to her counter and wipe her sweat away with a napkin.
Odd man, she supposed, fingering her crinkled tips for the sixth time that night.
And he surely was, but she didn't blink an eye whenever she passed his table.
Hinata Hyuuga, after all, was used to the type.
…
The bell to the door rang, and Hinata popped her head up just in time to see the middle-aged man leaving.
"O-Oh!" she called with a smile. "Thank you! Please come again soon."
Winter snaked into the cafe, creeping around her legs and making them freeze up under her jeans. Shivering, Hinata turned to the table behind the counter to pull on her jacket over her uniform top.
Just a few more days, she reminded herself, rubbing her arms, then spring will come, and the night won't be this –
… Hot?
But that's not right.
It was still the middle of March. Just a few minutes ago, she was freezing. There was no way it could suddenly turn so warm.
And when she turned around –
She saw black.
The strange man from Table 6 was right there. Right there. Perched on top of the counter like a bird, his knees pointed straight towards the ceiling, he loomed over her. When Hinata looked down to see what he could possibly be ruining with his shoes, she saw he wasn't even wearing any. Instead, it was as if he had … hooved feet. Like a goat.
What … the … ?
And then, when she dared to look at the rest of him, her suspicions were validated. Black cloak, torn at parts, while some of it seemed to be made out of some sort of feathery material; elongated ears that stretched from the mess of dark hair atop his head; maroon horns, long and curled, protruding from his temples; this man was no freak, no beast, no weirdo.
He was a cosplayer.
And, no, she had no clue who, exactly, he was cosplaying; but she still could not help but feel a little impressed. It all looked real – even the hooves.
Hooves … on her counter.
Right.
"U-Um." Her eyes, fascinated, traced the feathers adorning his wide shoulder. "Could you, um, please get off the counter, sir? I need to clean it before we close."
But the man did not move an inch, a muscle. He stayed there, perched, breathing steadily through his nose as that familiar, heavy gaze traced her face. It was really hot. He was really close. And she really needed to clean –
"Ah."
That voice was … deep, gravely, and somehow familiar.
"So you are the one."
Hinata looked up to that pale face she had been avoiding, blinked, gaped, then gasped.
"You're a tricky thing, angelus."
Because those eyes that stared and watched her and drilled into her skull were black. Pure black. Unnaturally black.
But that wasn't the problem.
Because that face, this customer, this man dressed up and currently slouched on her counter, was –
"S … Sasuke?"
Sasuke Uchiha, her classmate in her biology class.
Sasuke Uchiha, who she studied with every now and then.
Sasuke Uchiha, who was blind.
It was that same man who was here, six minutes before closing.
Looking … straight … at … her.
…
And Hinata was utterly, hopelessly, and completely baffled.
Chapter 1 - End
