One.
Their first meeting was far from pleasant.
That day, his co-worker was being a lax little prick for clocking out early again.
("Why?" "A date." Of course. Why did he even bother asking?)
For four months with his fellow barista, Kuroba Kaito knew that dissing him about how his face turned stupid whenever he talked about his girlfriend would be futile if his objective was to make him feel ashamed of being a disgusting lovesick idiot.
Certainly the man, Kudou Shinichi, didn't care, nor was he ashamed, ever ashamed, of talking about his woman. His 'Ran', whoever she was. More than that, the man was as immune to his insults as Kaito was to his sarcasms every time he made fun of him talking about her.
("Kuroba, maybe if you try getting yourself a girlfriend, then you'll know exactly why I talk the way I do." He'd heard him quip a hundred times.
"Mind your own business, Kudou. I have enough charm to get one when I want to," he'd retort a hundred times.
It had been a strange, beautiful bond of four months.)
On that day, for clocking out early on peak hours, Kaito decided to vent on his fellow barista's cup of latte.
With Shinichi behind the cash register and he in charge of making the drinks, Kaito simply went for it. Using the cup he saw Shinichi took for himself earlier, he filled it with one-third espresso, then, with his frothing pitcher ready, poured warm milk with finesse, crafting so carefully an image of what he thought could perfectly describe his ever amazing friend.
Awfully pleased with his ingenuity, he placed the finished masterpiece on the side counter, took a snap with his smartphone, then washed the empty pitcher in the underbar sink.
Not a minute later, a frustrated voice burst out beside him.
"Excuse me, are you serious?"
"I'm sorry, Miss?" Wiping his palms on his apron, he whirled to face the whining customer.
"I said, are you serious? This is my order, why did you draw a dick on it?"
Two things made Kaito's eyes bulge right out of their sockets.
One, he realized that he might have made the biggest blunder in his twenty years of existence, bigger than that one failed magic trick in front of his class when he was still exploring playing cards in middle school;
And two, this woman in front of him - petite and adorable and with tousled hair that betrayed her presentable look of blue and white floral sundress and denim jacket - said 'dick' bluntly like it was any other word, fearless of the judging eyes of nearby patrons who had heard her outburst.
He looked at the beautiful disaster cup and then at her, sapphire blue irises threatening to kill.
No, he was certain itwas Shinichi's cup. The distinct chip on the coffee sleeves said so. He needed to tell her she was mistaken.
"That's froth art, Miss," said he, beam proud and unfaltering.
The woman gasped, louder than her 'dick' statement. "What?"
More patrons turned their heads to her direction.
"You're kidding, right? Wait...Wait a sec." Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, head making short tilting movements like a confused bird. "Are you— Are you hitting on me?"
Kaito found a third reason for his eyes to jump out their sockets.
Who was this woman? Was she okay? Joking? What was with that thought process? What did she take him for?
Stunned into silence, his brain whipped strings of related questions in his head. Sure, it was a mistake to place the cup on the same counter for delivering orders, but for her to assume that the cup was hers, that he drew it for her and that he was hitting on her, and that she honestly believed that the way he'd hit on a woman was to draw dick on her orders… he wasn't sure if he should be amused, shocked, or utterly offended.
His cheerful barista persona almost cracked as he responded. "Miss, listen, I am not—"
"Apologies for my co-worker's demeanor, Miss—'' Shinichi inspected the side of an empty cup waiting beside the coffee machine "—Aoko. But may I confirm if you ordered one cafe latte?"
"No, I ordered a hot chocolate," she puffed her pink cheeks, still glaring at Kaito with the intimidation of an angry chihuahua.
"Ah, if that's the case, your order's still being processed. We'll call your name once it's done, Miss Aoko!" Shinichi appeased, his courteous smile placating the flushed woman, whose eyes flew wide from her embarrassing realization.
"Yes, Miss." Kaito added an extra bite to his consonants. "I'll call you when I'm ready with your order."
Smiling and bowing lightly, he tried an awful lot to appear contrite.
But the woman's eyes thinned at him.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Kaito, Miss."
"Okay, Kaito, how did your mother raise you?"
The confused barista raised an eyebrow. "With love and care?"
"Oh, so all this perversity is just you then," her eyes flitted to the cup then back at him, "drawing man parts on customers' orders."
Kaito suppressed the urge to say, 'Ahou, that's not for a customer', as he didn't want to fuel her spite. He thought maybe attempting to be the bigger person was her way of alleviating her own humiliation. He was still at work, several patrons' attention was still on them, and he didn't want to tell her that it was for his annoying co-worker — not like she'd believe it when Shinichi had been oh so incredibly nice to her. The two-faced ass.
"No, that's for me, ehehe." It didn't sound forced, especially with him running a hand on his hair to complete the apologetic look. "I'm terribly sorry for making you feel uncomfortable."
"You're horrible at your job. I'll wait for my order. Right here," she said curtly, arms crossing and, still with a blush, looked the other way, ending their awkward exchange.
Seeing the whole show unravel before him, Shinichi sniggered behind Kaito's stiff shoulder.
"Enough charm, all right," he snipped, a reminder of Kaito's favorite phrase, and then clapped a sarcastic, consoling hand over his shoulder, "Now go make her order, dick," before disappearing into the pantry to prepare for his scheduled date.
Shinichi was gone before he could see the sharp eyes of indignation Kaito meant to stab him with.
He would have wanted to spend his remaining shift mentally cursing his co-worker, but the angry pouting face of this one odd patron hogged all of the spaces in his brain.
When he handed her her cup of hot chocolate, they shared an eye contact that told more of 'you are so weird' than 'I am sorry for my mistake'.
Adamant, annoying, simply assuming, the words ran in his head as he watched her take the cup from his hand.
"Aoko, let's go, class in fifteen minutes!" One of her friends called out.
"Coming!" she said, heated blue eyes not leaving his, before finally turning around to meet her friends at the exit.
Aoko.
Their first meeting was absolutely, terribly far from pleasant.
Two.
A week later and she was back, outside the dainty sundress and denim jacket.
She sported a pastel pink pullover, preppy off-white skirt and overused sneakers, tousled fringes complementing her haggard look as she hugged two thick books and a laptop, her shoulder bag slung on one shoulder.
He supposed she didn't notice him on shift - night shift - because upon entering she went straight to one of the couched seats, dropped her things and lay her head on the table. Her fatigue and sleep depravity radiated even up to him, who stood behind the counter. It was almost midnight, and the crowd was thinning and other people were packing up but she had just arrived, and from experience in this 24-hour coffee shop, Kaito knew that people arriving that late were college students who most likely wanted to procrastinate until dawn.
Maybe a little act of kindness wouldn't hurt, Kaito thought.
The gentle placement of a warm cup and saucer on her tabletop made the tired patron jolt from her seat.
"One cup of hot chocolate for Miss Aoko, on the house."
"Oh...really?" Her eyes widened a little, voice as gleeful as it was tired. "Thank you so much...Eh?"
The reaction was immediate once she traced the hand up to his face. She sagged on the couch, a little apprehensive, but managed to voice out a whisper. " ...The pervert barista."
Okay, so maybe it did hurt a little.
Kaito clutched his chest, (not) feigning offense. "Hey now Miss, thus here I am trying to make it up to you. This one's on me." His tone took the air of friendliness, one which, perhaps, convinced her to reconsider.
But the woman merely huffed.
'At least she didn't reject the free drink?' He thought as he slid the chair across from her and sat down. 'And this one, too.'
Wordlessly, he observed as she opened her laptop, setting aside the textbooks on her lap. She peeked a glance at him, offered a half smile, and resumed her business as if he weren't there. Either she forgave him, or didn't really give two shits about him.
"Not around with your friends?" He tried to stir a conversation.
"Different majors. Different body clock. They're less of a night owl than I am," she replied, not bothering to look up from her typing.
"Yet you're the only one in your group who doesn't drink coffee?"
"Aoko prefers hot chocolates."
"I know." He let out a light, charming chuckle. "I like hot chocolates, too."
It was then that she regarded him, eyes narrowing again like he'd seen her do the first time.
"You're really trying to hit on me, aren't you?"
"...And just as I thought it was one time," Kaito muttered under his breath, keeping himself from rolling his pupils to the back of his skull. "Miss, there's such a thing as doing my job. Or being nice, or friendly, is all."
"Then why are you sitting here with me?"
"Because I want to know more about the regulars of this humble coffee shop?"
"This is only my second time. Creep."
"You little…"
"I'm a psych major."
To this Kaito quirked an eyebrow, surprised at her accommodation. He opened his mouth to say something, but Aoko continued.
"No, I cannot read"— she made an air quote—"your mind or anyone's minds like a fortune teller, and no, I don'tsuck at Math."
Kaito snickered mirthfully. "I wasn't going to say that. I was actually going to say it's an interesting major."
It was nice that she didn't throw him a suspicious glare like she often did; this time he felt himself partially acknowledged by her deadpan stare, with a slight twist of her lips.
"But," she huffed, letting herself continue, "it gets stressful at some point, with all the research and statistics. That's why, for my free electives, I chose something fun. Theatre and film arts, under the very fun and legendary-"
"You're from SoDai, right?"
"Yes?"
"So that's Kuroba Chikage for your elective?"
Aoko's eyes widened. "How did you know?"
He smirks proudly. "A magician never tells his secrets."
"Hah? You're a barista, for Christ's sake!"
"A part-time barista," he corrected, smirk not wavering.
Kaito noticed how she always seemed to puff her pink cheeks whenever she could, though he noted how her eyes glittered with genuine curiosity as she fixated her entire attention on him. "Please, just tell me how you know Kuroba-sensei! I love her."
She was so eager, so curious to know, so cute with those shining blue eyes, that Kaito was tempted to reveal his relationship with the legendary Chikage, and maybe even more about his own life, but the door chimed and more students arrived, thereby breaking their short-lived conversation. He rose to help the other night shift barista, Hakuba, at the coffee bar.
"How about I walk you home after my shift and I'll tell you how I know her?" he asked casually while he smoothened his apron with both hands.
Aoko jerked slightly, looking at him as if he were something to be wary of.
She thought about it for a few seconds, then answered. "I... won't stay around for long. Plus, I only live one block away."
Thankfully, it was said in a tone that didn't paint Kaito as a stalker-weirdo who she'd outright reject. A big relief.
"And, if you're forgetting…" she glanced at him mockingly, "I still can't easily trust the barista who drew man parts on a customer's drink and called it foam art, remember? If this is your way of expressing your apology, you have to do more than that free hot chocolate, Bakaito," she intoned with a wry smile.
Left speechless at the sudden hostility, or tease, or something else he didn't quite understand, Kaito returned to the counter with one thought in his head.
'Bakaito? She serious?'
Three.
-i-
Eventually, Aoko became a regular patron.
In the afternoons she'd be with her friends, her single friends who were most likely eyecandying Shinichi, judging by how they would only queue in line whenever he was behind the cash register. (Not that Shinichi really noticed, or if he did, he didn't mind nor care enough to pay attention.)
At nights, she'd usually be alone, procrastinating on her laptop like two or three other regular students in the shop, and Kaito would sometimes stop by her table and they'd exchange a few banters, though not enough to make him disclose the answer to her long standing question about Chikage, and consequently not enough to make her feel absolutely welcoming of his presence.
For several weeks, he probably remained in her eyes as 'pervert barista Bakaito who drew dick in customer's orders', and Kaito, oh Kaito, for the first time called her Ahou-ko, and it didn't solve anything for them - in fact, it only made their banters more intense, and added a variety to Aoko's annoyingly cute look of a flaring baby dragon; aside from her red puffy cheeks, she added a tongue sticking out like a child bullying her playmate.
("How are you not fired from this job yet, Bakaito?" she hissed after he called her that the first time.
"I happened to be very close to the owner of this shop, unfortunately," he said, not entirely proud of that information but would use that card anyway when it was convenient.)
One afternoon, Aoko dropped by with her friends while Kaito was at the display case, refilling pastries and donuts. It wasn't his intention to eavesdrop, but their voices were loud enough for him to overhear their conversation in line.
"How come Aoko-chan always orders hot chocolate? Are your taste buds too weak for espresso?"
"Aoko just prefers hot chocolates, is all," she answered.
"I stopped drinking hot chocolates when I went to middle school, just saying," one friend commented.
"I thought you're trying to go with the more adult, college look, Aoko-chan? Go for coffee!"
"Aoko is! But coffee isn't really my-"
"Oh come on, just try once," another friend interrupted her. "There's no harm in experimenting now, is there? Unless you're fine with being mistaken for a child over and over again?"
Kaito saw Aoko roll her eyes. He knew she wasn't one to have her mind changed so easily, so he expected she wouldn't concede to an order change, even if only once. If she wanted hot chocolate, she would buy hot chocolate.
"One... tall Americano, please. To go," she said when she reached the counter, much to Kaito's surprise.
Perhaps call it intuition, or 'getting used to her annoying voice', but Kaito certainly heard Aoko's remorse which may not have been evident to Shinichi, who confirmed the girls' orders without issue. But for him it was clear and he knew, Aoko didn't like Americano. She liked her hot chocolate.
From where they both stood, they inadvertently met each other's eyes, and Aoko's widened a little but softened eventually, gave him an eye roll and shoulder shrug which he knew were meant not for him but for her friends.
Kaito raised an eyebrow and shrugged his shoulders too, subtly saying without actually saying that he acknowledged her little suffering, and Aoko silently snorted, quirking the seams of her lips.
An invisible exchange that somehow only both of them seemed to get.
Of course, as an attentive barista, he knew what to do.
"One tall Americano for Miss Aoko!" He shouted, and Aoko trudged to the bar.
"A piece of advice, if you want something close to hot chocolate, you can always go for the sweet ones like mocha latte, not Americano," he proposed in a low voice before handing her the drink and tissue.
She rolled her eyes again, smiling a little. "I had to say something on the spot. But I'll take note of that next time."
"Good," he smiled back. "Enjoy your order, Miss Aoko!"
Before she left, he watched her take a sip of the cup, and revelled at the visible shock that passed her face. Aoko spared a bemused glance back at him.
Expecting that kind of reaction, Kaito merely beamed in reply, and in the middle of the crowd and Aoko's oblivious friends, he read the movement of her lips.
A slow, meaningful, 'thank you.'
For the first time, Kaito felt he had done something genuinely nice to her, and had it reciprocated with the reaction he'd preferred.
"She didn't open the lid to see the chocolate art though," he remarked inwardly before resuming his work, this time with a prominent smile on his face.
There were many other opportunities to show her his brand new froth art anyway.
-ii-
Two nights later, she was back in the coffee shop alone, again with her pullovers and books and laptop.
She had her usual fix of grande hot chocolate, and Kaito used that opportunity to draw a healthy, full-grown rose on the froth, similar to what she'd missed before.
"So that really was a rose," she uttered, amused.
"Oh? So you opened the cup of'Americano'I gave you?" His brows waggled lightly.
"Yes, I had to double check in case my taste buds were messing with me." Aoko played with the froth, flicking some of the rose petals with the stirrer before mixing the whole drink. "Turns out they weren't, and turns out you aren't so bad yourself after all."
The smile gracing her lips was only a thin line, but honest all the same.
"Tch, took me a while to prove just that," Kaito sneered, and Aoko actually giggled.
She sounded as adorable as she looked.
"Now then, I guess it won't be difficult for you to prove to me that you're someone I can trust?" she said after a while.
"Haah?" Kaito scrunched his eyebrows at her while she drank from the cup. "Isn't that fact supposed to be part of what I've already done so far?"
"Aoko only managed to see Kaito's nice side. But nice doesn't mean trustworthy. Like, how will I know if you're only doing that so that I'll get to owe you some favor in the future?"
Kaito thinned his eyes, seriously wondering who played her bad that she had to think like this all the time. Did she think all niceties in this world were simply at surface level? Had she forgotten he had told her months ago that he'd make it up to her, even though both of them technically 'owed' each other - he, for the distasteful dick art, and she, for the immediate judgment on how he'd hit on a woman?
It all sounded like a joke to him, and he wasn't even sure if she was aware of the slight offense she'd caused him, but he'd already let it pass. The point was, she really didn't have to make it hard for both of them, and for herself either. A bad first meeting was all there was to it.
"Hey, if you can trust me with your favorite orders, you can trust me with your life," Kaito responded matter-of-factly. "I swear I am not up to no good, I swear I am not a dirty pervert, I'm not being nice just so I could ask you for some 'favors', and trust me when I say I'm not flirting with you — geez, Aoko, you have a funny mustache right there."
Kaito reached across the table and wiped with his thumb at the chocolate mustache that had formed above her lips.
They were all smiles one second and lips shut tight the next.
Crap, he may have overdone it, he realized belatedly, as his brain processed what his fingers had intuitively grazed and how her plump little lips flinched under them.
Both of their eyes blew incredibly wide, felt the other stiffen on their seat.
After what seemed like a very long second, Aoko swiped the tissue from the tabletop, and Kaito's hand recoiled immediately.
"I'll... I'll clean it myself. Th-Thanks for pointing it out."
"Ah. Yes... My bad."
Kaito wiped his froth-coated fingers on his apron, aware of the subtle heat creeping up his neck. 'What was that you were saying earlier, Kaito? How can she believe you now after invading her personal space like that?'
"You're right, I um— trust, that you aren't doing any of those things you've mentioned. Sorry..." her voice trailed off, more out of fluster than anything else. At that point he couldn't comprehend what she was apologizing for. Her cheeks were impeccably pink and she tried to shield them with her messy fringes as her eyes returned to her laptop screen, looking but unseeing, hand mindlessly fiddling with the dirty tissue.
Something. There was something right there. Something which Kaito couldn't quite put a name to.
He cleared his throat, attempting to shake off the awkwardness that had unintentionally surfaced between them.
"That's...That's great! I'll um, return to the bar now. If you need, uh, anything else, call me- I mean, I'll be right here- there. I'll be right there," he stuttered, rising from the seat and Aoko nodded her acquiescence without looking.
The long night went by, to each their own.
(Later at the pantry, Kaito repeatedly drilled his forehead on the wall, muttering, "That was sooo lame," a hundred times a minute. Hakuba, calmer than he'd ever been, had to appease him — "Mind the wall, Kuroba-kun."
The patron, on the other hand, also spent the next ten minutes slamming her forehead on the table, groaning incessantly with "Christ, what was thaaat?" as the only audible sound coming out of her.
Somehow, both felt like they were in a much worse position than before.)
Four.
-i-
"Kuroba, stop that. You're creepy as hell."
"Huh?"
Kaito looked up to face a skeptical Shinichi leaning on the wall beside where he sat on a stool, which had then stopped rocking on its hind legs.
Shinichi observed his dazed features for a few seconds, then let out a deep, knowing sigh.
"She's got you bad, hasn't she." It was more of a statement than a question.
"I don't understand what you mean," Kaito grumbled, averting his eyes from his co-worker. Sad enough, not even his greatest poker face could mask the absurd blush coloring his cheeks.
"Sure," Shinichi remarked, sarcastic as always. Unfortunately, Kaito didn't have the will to retort.
It was two in the afternoon, and it was ridiculous to think about this. Ridiculous why he suddenly felt his world tip one-eighty degrees. Ridiculous that he knew the root of all this disgusting, creepy feeling inside, a feeling that he only remembered teasing Shinichi with before.
It was two in the afternoon, no orders were queued for the past ten minutes, so against his own will, he drifted into dreamland with no one but himself, brown mustache-shaped clouds, springs of hot chocolate, tissue boats, and—
"Miss Aoko. How are you today?"
Shinichi addressed her presence, and Kaito stood upright at the mention of her name.
"Oh, stressed from uni but doing fine, thanks Shinichi-kun! One hot chocolate please, grande, to go," Aoko stated, her bright voice not indicative of anything out of the ordinary.
"Of course. Coming right up!" Shinichi wrote her name on the paper cup, then passed it to Kaito, side eyeing him as he did.
"Time to work your self-proclaimed charm, Kuroba," he winked.
And then Kaito took his time crafting her order. What charm? He was a bumbling mess. He'd done this countless times, yet he didn't understand why his hands shook as he poured warm milk in the cup, angling it right to form the vivid shape of two stemmed roses.
He met her at the side bar, and it took all his confidence to put up his normal, friendly barista vibe as he handed her the cup, though deep inside his heart lit with fireworks when he felt her fingers brush against his.
"...Gonna stay up all night again later?" he asked out of the blue. He didn't even realize he had spoken until he actually heard his voice.
"...Mm," she murmured, pretty blue eyes meeting his own. "Gonna stay up all night again later."
"Oh, okay, see you then," he said, mouth bent in an incomprehensible half beam.
"Yes. See you!" she said with a smile, voice soft and solemn.
(From a feet away, Shinichi tried to prevent a manic laughter from erupting out of his throat as he watched the awkward mess of a man that was Kaito.)
-ii-
He knew exactly where to find her when midnight struck. She was at her usual corner, sitting cross legged on the couched seat, sporting the same adorably haggard look except this time, she wore her grey hooded SoDai jacket and white capris. A usual indication of a hell week.
Of course, he would know. That was why he couldn't do his shift tonight and the next few days. Not to mention, there were fifteen others as haggard and miserable as she was on that side of the shop alone, half of them wearing similar university jackets.
It was easy to spot her despite that; although he doubted that it'd be easy for her to spot him like this.
Before he could show himself to her, some sort of disaster happened right at where she sat.
Kaito didn't see what happened entirely. She might have reached for her pen holder and toppled her drink, evidence of that were her pens now scattered on the floor and her transparent tumbler half empty, the rest of the water spilt onto the tabletop and most on her jersey. She managed to save her phone and laptop, thankfully, but the A/C was unusually cold late at night and it wouldn't do any good for her in that half-soaked jacket. Especially if she weren't wearing anything underneath.
...She was wearing something underneath, wasn't she?
No. Don't even go there, Kaito.
Used to situations like this, he retrieved a mop and bucket from the pantry and went to assist the troubled woman.
"Waaah- I apologize for causing a mess, Hakuba-ku... eh?!"
She almost fell from the couch when she realized it wasn't the blonde night shift barista - nor the Kaito barista - who helped her clean the spilt water on the ground.
"Why are you always reacting like that every time you see me?" Kaito snipped, still mopping the floor while Aoko watched him dumbfoundedly, attention diverted from the pens she was picking up.
"You're…" From his peripherals, he saw her scan him from head to toe. "...You're also a student? We go to the same university?"
"I thought it was already a given? Ninety percent of the crowd here are from SoDai." He sent her a half-lidded glare. "Or do you think I look too old to pass as a college student?"
"That's not what I meant!" Her gaze traveled to his face, and he supposed she was inspecting everything about him starting with his face behind the small, rectangular eyeglasses, down his similar SoDai jacket, further down his sweatpants and the absence of his usual green apron...
"Aoko's just so used to seeing Kaito in his barista outfit. That's all." She looked away, shade of pink dusting her puffy cheeks.
Though stressed and disheveled and tired, she was still unjustifiably cute.
Kaito felt like blushing, too.
"Anyway," he cleared his throat, "let me clean this mess, and you pick up all your pens. I'll tell Hakuba to increase the A/C temperature so your jacket dries faster, and in the meantime—" securing his undershirt in his waistband, he pulled up his jacket, passed it over his chest, shoulders and arms and above his head, then tossed it to her, "—use mine first. Change in the toilet… Hey, stop covering your eyes! I have clothes underneath unlike you, Ahou-ko!"
Aoko's voice was muffled behind her hands. "Damnit Bakaito, why would you suddenly do that right here—" She cut herself short and gasped. "H-How did you know Aoko had n-nothing underneath?! Oh my GOD I knew it—"
"SSHHHHH!"
The collective shush and deathly glare of concentrating students around them reminded them of where they still were. Both flushing in embarrassment, Aoko clumsily stood up while clutching his jacket and fled to the toilet, leaving Kaito behind, all eyes on him as he grudgingly cleaned up the remaining mess.
-iii-
"For the last time, I didn't ogle at you, okay."
Kaito's half-mast eyes were fixated on his laptop instead of on the woman across him wearing his oversized jacket. It was hard to look her in the eye when his facial muscles and cheek color worked beyond his control.
"I merely assumed since my annoying mom does that. Wearing thick clothes or hoodies with nothing else underneath. I thought it's a common thing for annoying women." He eyed Aoko (or rather, the back of her laptop - he really couldn't meet her eyes; it was hard). "So I guess my assumption's right?"
Kaito knew better than to believe that Aoko would let him off the hook easily. The distrustful gaze he felt bearing a hole in his skull spoke louder volumes than a verbal answer.
"Listen. The important thing is that your gadgets and files are safe and nothing is lost and you won't get sick in the middle of hell week, alright?" He forced himself to look at her directly, wanting to be sincere and believable. Because he meant it and he couldn't afford losing her trust again (unless he truly hadn't gained it yet?) over a silly, mindless remark.
Aoko finally responded with a grunt, though her cheeks remained pink.
"Know that I'm letting this pass because you let me borrow your jacket."
"Great! So, friends again?" He grinned.
She raised a mocking brow, tiny smirk quirking her lips. "Who says we're friends?"
He wanted to snort at the sad joke, but couldn't discount the other implication of her statement.
Aoko snorted for him nonetheless; she may have realized the implication herself, too.
"Well then," she huffed, breaking the monotony of typing and breathing and silence, "now that I know we practically walk around the same campus, then I can give back your hoodie there without having to spend money here waiting for your shift."
"You wait for my shift?" he inquired, curious and a little hopeful.
"No! I meant," she paused, correcting herself, "Aoko won't have to come here to hand this back to you anymore."
"Ah, makes sense." He exhaled, tipped the bridge of his glasses, and resumed typing. "I won't be on shift tomorrow anyway. I'm still a student like you apparently, need to catch up on plates for my major…"
"What's your major?" she inquired. Kaito smirked. Now she was the curious one.
He'd rather not comment about it though, in order to not make her feel self-conscious.
"So you're curious about my life now?" Gosh darn it, he just couldn't resist.
"J-Just so I know which building to find once I return your jacket, moron!" she scowled and crossed her arms in front of her, jutting her lips out with the ghost of a 'hmph' at the end.
He coughed a laugh. Fine, he'd take her lame excuses as her form of endearment.
"Architecture. I like looking at and admiring buildings and skyscrapers, all those things," he said.
Aoko hummed, blue eyes filled with amusement. "That's quite nice... and a little unexpected. I thought you were in fine arts, or theatre, or—"
Suddenly, a brilliant idea crossed his mind.
"Aoko, I think it's better if you return the jacket to me at my house."
The woman's eyebrows shot up high. "What?"
"My jacket. Instead of returning it to me in school, come visit my house."
Aoko's eyes widened, ears turning red, not believing what they'd just heard. "Hey, now! You—"
"Relax! I'm still trying to make it up to you, right? Why would I do what you're thinking?" His eyes thinned in a teasing way. "Wait, what are you thinking?"
"Bakaito!"
"Ahou-ko." He laughed again. "But honestly, if you drop by my house? I promise you're going to have one of your best days ever."
Not minding how the red never left her face (and made the shade darker with his last statement), Kaito wrote his address and directions on a tissue then gave it to her. "It's near the cafe, too, so near your apartment. Four blocks away from there."
Wordlessly, and almost reluctantly, she took the tissue, studied it before reverting her gaze to him. "If you fall short of your incredibly vague promise, Aoko will hate you for the rest of eternity."
He grinned. "That's a deal then!"
He extended a hand and she did likewise, and they shook hands.
(...Before they knew it, it was daybreak; Kaito didn't sleep a wink but Aoko took a nap for an hour. By sunrise, early risers were already at the cafe while a handful of students from last night remained, including them.
Aoko finished her major paper requirement on time, with a little help from Kaito.
The student barista, by 7 AM, bid her goodbye, said he'd do the rest of his work at home, and maybe get a little sleep first. Yes, he'd cut his two classes today for that one plate, he said.
The student patron dropped by the campus to print and submit her paper. She wore the barista's jacket the whole time, his scent clinging to her like her own perfume.
The scent of hot chocolate and brewed coffee and acrid sweetness and Kaito, she realized, felt a little more than enough to power through the rest of the day.)
Five.
-i-
Kaito didn't expect she'd actually show up on their front door immediately the week after.
What he expected, however, was that if she did show up, she'd have that exact reaction.
"Ku-...Kuroba-sensei?!"
Standing on the front porch with Kuroba Chikage in front of her, Aoko gaped, jaw almost unhinged, eyes popping out, all in all not even bothering to hide how starstruck she was.
"Ara, aren't you Nakamori-san from theatre and film?" the adult mused while holding the door open for her.
"Y-Yes! And…" Flustered, she double checked the tissue with the address and directions, "... I think Kaito wrote the wrong address…"
"Oh, you're here for my son? I thought you're here for consultation and I forgot you set an appointment! That's great then!" Chikage spoke in a sing-song manner, then shielded herself with the door to call her host. "Kaito! Nakamori-san is here!"
There were footfalls down the stairs, and his murmur, 'Who's Nakamori?' before he reached the front porch and was surprised to see a flabbergasted Aoko carrying a paper bag with his jacket inside.
"Aoko?!" He caught himself off guard, though quickly recovered. "Aoko! You're here."
Seeing her blanched face and dilated pupils, obviously not past the shock of her recent discovery, Kaito released a heartfelt cackle.
"Why are... You're her son... But you don't look—How—Bakaito!" came her incoherent reaction three seconds later, cheeks puffing in indignance and maybe a little embarrassment. "Why didn't you tell me you're a Kuroba?!"
"Because you didn't tell me you're a Nakamori?"
She jabbed him on the shoulder.
"Ow! Okay okay!" he rubbed the hurt area while wiping a stray tear from his eye, stomach twisting from his guffaws. "Honestly? I'm glad I didn't. Because that reaction is priceless."
Before Aoko could chop him on the head, Chikage called from inside the house. "Kaito! Are you going outside with Nakamori-san? Have dinner here first, I made too much curry!"
Aoko frantically shook her head at Kaito, but was easily defeated by his reply, "Gotcha, Kaa-san!"
Leaving her without much choice, Kaito dragged the stiff Aoko by the arm inside the house and into their dining area.
-ii-
Ten minutes later and she still hadn't moved past the shock, as she sat still beside him while Chikage served the pot of curry. The warm cup of hot chocolate Kaito prepared for her remained untouched.
"Hey, drink the hot choco, you don't want it lukewarm, do you?" he reminded.
Aoko threw him a piercing glare. "Really, I'm going to kill you—"
"I didn't know you were my son's girlfriend, Nakamori-san!" Chikage interrupted the two. "But don't worry, I'm not going to be partial in class just because—"
"We aren't dating, sensei!"
"Kaa-san, what the hell!"
Both whipped their heads and spoke at the same time. The intrigued adult could only do anything but stare back and snigger feloniously.
"I-I...only planned to return the jacket your son lent me, Kuroba-sensei, I don't think I should be he—"
"Ohh, what did he do this time, Aoko-chan?" Chikage looked at Kaito in a way that wasn't as intimidating as Aoko would have expected from a mother to her son, and Kaito glared at her like a son being annoyed at his mother. Which was not really incorrect.
"And please, call me Chikage, it's fine, we're outside class!" She cheerfully addressed Aoko again, handing her the serving spoon for the curry.
Kaito observed her get her share then sag on the seat, all the while with a huge, prominent blush on her cheeks running up her ears. Despite saying she would kill him, he was confident it wouldn't be out of spite. Having dinner with her favorite professor, said professor calling her 'Aoko-chan', and even telling her to call her by her first name? Please. This woman was clearly floating above the damn clouds.
"So... I suppose you're a regular at our humble coffee shop and that's where you met my part-timing son?" Chikage brought up as they ate dinner.
"Oh? S-Sensei owns... I mean, Chikage-san owns that cafe?"
"My husband and I. Too bad you can't meet him right now, he's a magician doing a traveling magic show in Europe, and he looks exactly like Kaito! Kaito learned his magic tricks from him; and after this school year ends I'll join his father in Europe as his back-up assistant—"
His mother went rambling, and as crazy as her anecdotes all sounded, Kaito expected the lack of criticism from Aoko. She listened to her in awe, like a follower to an authority delivering a speech on a grand pedestal. Chikage could tell her the most absurd stories and she'd believe it without question. If it were he who said it, he doubted he'd ever get the same result.
"What are you sniggering about?" Aoko asked, in the interim Chikage disappeared to get water from the kitchen.
"Nah, just thought of something." Another snigger. "You're learning a lot from her more than I am now, would you believe that?"
She clapped her hands together, releasing a dreamy exhale. "Chikage-san is such a wonderful professor and person. Isn't it a privilege to live in the same house as her?" she doted.
"Apparently not if you're the child and she's the mom."
Aoko smiled, nudging his shoulder. "Oh Kaito, I'd do anything to hang out with this side of sensei everyday." She took a sip of the now cold chocolate.
"You can be my girlfriend so you can be her daughter-in-law so you can live in this house."
Aoko almost spit out the drink.
There was another jab on his shoulder, but this time, with more force that he almost slipped off his chair.
"What? You said you'd do anything!" He laughed, full of mirth.
Her reply, instead of another familiar quip of 'As if!', 'Not that!', or 'You're horrible!', was odd silence, followed by a round of snorts and giggles, and Kaito joined her until they dissolved into feats of laughter together.
It wasn't a laugh that treated his statement as a funny or ridiculous joke but the kind that made their cheeks pink, breath short, too carefree to think of anything else, like they were laughing at the fact that the world stopped and they were only the ones in there.
Kaito stored her unexpected response at the back of his mind, the meaning of which he'd figure out later.
The rest of dinner went by without a lull, with Aoko warming up and expressing herself in a way Kaito had never seen her before. Her face was so bright, all smiles, and she's sharing that not only with his mom but also with him. The whiny, screechy patron he met three months ago in the coffee shop seemed like a different person. He wondered how many more sides to this woman there were that he had yet to see.
She said something about the privilege of living with Chikage in the same house?
If she wanted to talk about privilege, Kaito would rather be blessed with a different one.
-iii-
"Okay, I forgive you," she spoke in between mincing giggles, "That was one of the best days indeed. Thank you."
They stopped in front of her apartment complex, a fifteen minute walk from Kaito's house. To his surprise, she didn't say no when he offered to walk her home, unlike the first time when her rejection even came with a reminder that he was a pervert.
In fact, she gaily reciprocated his jokes, adding witty comebacks to his punchlines and he survived the entire walk without a smack on his back or arm.
"You sure you don't need me to accompany you up your unit?" he asked, sincere.
She rolled her eyes, giggled. "Please, Kaito. I can climb the stairs on my own. You may leave now. Doing all this makes me think you're wooing me for real."
The brightest smile slips to his lips. "Am I not?"
There was stillness.
A clock tower chimed from afar.
Aoko's hand paused rummaging in her handbag and she whirled back, sapphire irises meeting his. Kaito shoved his hands in his pockets.
"Do you want me to?"
He asked it so mirthfully the way he'd often do around her; there was glimmer in his eyes but somehow they both knew this was no longer a moment of humors and banters and teases. She wasn't smiling, he wasn't kidding. Suddenly, this was serious.
He was serious.
Thing was, he never asked back. He didn't find the need to because why would he? He had no plans then, and even if he had, he knew she wouldn't like it. All he did was proclaim that he wasn't flirting with her everytime she asked, and it'd end there and that was enough.
But now that he thought about it, if he had said yes when she asked, how would the Aoko of three months ago react? A punch in the gut, certainly. But would it matter when he believed that whatever her reaction would be, most probably wouldn't hold true for the Aoko now? What mattered was the present, right? How much had changed between them? Did she still perceive him as the same pervert barista or had something changed in her eyes? What was running in her mind right now? Were they thinking of the same thing?
Right now, what did she want? Did she want him to woo her?
Because if she'd say yes, he would. God,he absolutely would.
So he needed to ask.
"Aoko, see…" he ruffled his hair, "I know I said I was trying to make it up to you, and I do hope I've already made it up to you, but if you want something more, want me to woo you, you can tell me that and I… I would gladly do, for you."
He saw her swallow a lump down her throat, fists clenching and unclenching. She was visibly at loss for words. He let her be still like that, waiting patiently for her response.
"...K-Kaito makes it sound like a chore..." she mumbled.
"It's not!" he said outright, taking a decisive step forward. "I figure… I don't want you mistaking me for a pervert."
To that, they shared a soft laugh, a giggle. And then silence.
Aoko bit her lip. Her cheeks reddened, and he supposed it wasn't just because of the cold wintery gush of night air. His heart pounded loudly in his chest. He was too knee-deep into this — too into her — and he couldn't just drop this all and walk away. Not now. Not ever.
Especially when she seemed to be considering his offer.
She stepped forward, tilted her chin up, nose almost touching his. Her adoringly beautiful blue eyes were the same as the first time, but were now devoid of intimidation and coldness, and instead, displayed the exact opposite.
Those blue eyes — they shone more when they were soft, and warm, and honest, and... and in love.
He was literally a pucker away from her lips.
He wanted to kiss her.
Oh god, he wanted to kiss her.
Instead, he kept still.
They stood there unspeaking, and whatever apprehension her eyes hid he couldn't see as he admired and fell and drowned in their depths. His heart tightened so much until he couldn't stand it anymore lest have his impulse get the best of him.
"See you tomorrow at the coffee shop?" he whispered, all while a hand left his pocket to nudge her cold ones.
"... See you," she whispered back, index finger entwining with his, ghost of her breath on his lips sending tingles down his spine.
Only when they unlocked fingers and she disappeared into the apartment complex and he walked back home did he realize, Aoko never answered his first question.
...One.
They didn't see each other at the coffee shop the next day. Or the day after that.
More like they couldn't, because Aoko never came.
Hell week was over and winter break had arrived, so the volume of student patrons in the shop was relatively fewer than normal. In that regard, Kaito understood why she wouldn't be around.
Still.
"Aren't you going to help me out?"
Shinichi called from the entrance, voice reaching him at the back of the pantry.
"Yeah, ten minutes," he replied, not making an effort to be audible.
His mocha latte had gone lukewarm, his hair messy as always and his SoDai jacket hung on his locker, prim and ironed and it smelled a little like her detergent and damn, he missed her annoying voice.
"The hell Kaito, it's only been three days…" he sulked to himself, eyes fluttering shut, rubbing his temple in visible agony. He didn't know who to hate more, himself for being way worse at this than Kudou, or Kudou for being able to actually manage this disgusting, mushy feeling inside himself so goddamn well and still be bearable at work. Kaito couldn't even commit himself to stand up. His face was blank and full of emotions at once. Where was the poker face when he needed it? Must he need to take pointers from Shinichi now? No way. He'd rather cut his arms and gouge an eye out.
"Bakaito."
"Kudou, I said ten minut-"
He realized that Shinichi's voice wasn't high-pitched nor female. Neither did he ever call him that. Head darting up from his lonely corner, his pupils dilated and heart rate spiked at the sight of the woman causing his frustrations.
"A-Aoko?!" He flew straight up, stool almost toppling from the force. "Y-You're here."
"Why do you always react like that when you see me?" Aoko said, tone jeering, though her timidity could be reckoned from the way her cheeks pinked, hands clasped on her back.
She was in a blue dress again, but it was cold outside so she wore thick black leggings and a cream cardigan. Some snow littered her unkempt hair and shoulders.
"Wait...you're here. In the pantry," he wondered aloud, regaining composure as his hands found purchase on the edge of the coffee table behind him.
"Shinichi-kun said you refused to come out… so he let me in."
"Oh."
"Uh, yeah."
Both fell silent as they stared at each other, watching the exchange of three nights ago replay in their eyes. His feet ached to walk up to her, his fingers dying to stroke her hair. But he'd resist until he got to hear her speak first.
With the way she bit her tongue back like words would automatically gush out if she released it, it looked like talking to him was what she came here for.
"I'm sorry," she said, quietly.
"... Sorry?" His voice cracked.
"I'm sorry if I looked like I broke my promise," she began. "Technically I didn't promise anything, but I did say I'd come over the next day but... yeah," she stared down at her feet, soles digging into the polished wooden floor. "I didn't."
Still quiet, he looked at her, unsure where this was leading into.
"Kaito never promised Aoko anything either, but even so... Kaito seemed the type to stand by all his words," she continued. "Redeeming yourself from the froth art thing, accompanying me on my all-nighters, sometimes serving free cake slices with my orders, lending me your hoodie, helping me with my paper — which, I got an A+ by the way," she snorted, and he sniggered. "All those little things I never asked from you but you still did for me, because you wanted to prove your words to me... but in the end I still thought you were stupid, a liar with an ulterior motive…"
"Uh, Aoko?" he wanted to interrupt, ask for the point she's driving at, but she ignored him and went on.
"Turns out I just didn't know you well enough." She took a deep breath, stepped further inside until she's halfway from him. "The only time you promised me something was when you said I'd have one of the best days of my life, and of course, you kept that, too. I knew you would... gods, my favorite sensei is your mom, Kaito!" She paused, only to display a heartfelt beam; his heart stuttered at the sight.
"And that's why... that's why I didn't answer that night." Her eyes drifted to her feet again.
"I didn't know how to answer because I thought... the timing was too convenient, you know? I didn't want you to think that I said yes, that I wanted you to court me, because I had an ulterior motive… to get close to sensei." She pursed her lips, pondered deeper. "I mean, yeah, I do like and want to hear more stories from sensei too, but not until I get to know more about you first... Kuroba-sensei's son or not, I still want to know you, want to know you so much."
She squared her shoulders, met his gaze, blue irises twinkling as she declared, "I want to know you first, Kaito. That's my answer."
He bit the urge to snort at the straightforward cheesiness, if only his heart wasn't about to jump out of his chest. He honestly didn't know what to make of all these. That, and he hadn't even treaded on the other, more dangerous implication of what 'knowing' was, because he knew such a thing was not what she was referring to. Ignoring his bad thoughts, he focused instead on what she truly meant.
Kaito admired her from where he stood. Fists softly clenched, cheeks pink, shoulders shaking a bit from her monologue. Here he thought she'd come to give him a quick yes or no answer at most, but he never expected that she'd go all out and practically confess all of these - her thoughts, her feelings - to him. Where would all of this lead?
He cleared his throat, sensing his voice strain even though he hadn't spoken yet.
"... Is that all?"
Aoko unclenched her fists. "I think so…"
His body inched away from the coffee table and closer to the patron.
"So, the reason you didn't come by the next day after that night was because you felt... guilty?"
She nodded, sheepishly.
"Ahou-ko." He chuckled. "I felt guilty when I thought I overdid it with the thumb swipe. And the thing in front of your apartment. I thought I may have pushed your boundaries." He was at arms' length from her, a little more and he could tuck those loose fringes behind her ear.
"As early as the Americano order I knew I could trust you," she admitted, and he noticed that every time she got flustered she'd avert her eyes away, like now. "... I only said what I said because I wanted to be two hundred percent sure."
"As expected of a psych major, I guess," he keened.
"That's stupid," she snorted. "... Am I stupid?"
"Not at all," he claimed, sincere. "You're just vigilant. And feisty. Both are nice. Though you may want to tone down the feisty bit." They shared a little laugh.
"About your answer though…" he interjected, fingers stroking his chin as if thinking pretty hard, "It's really confusing, because that can work as either a yes or a no, so…" looking straight, he addressed her, "before I do anything reckless, is that a yes or a no?"
"... What do you think?" she smiled subtly. Kaito shook his head and rolled his eyes.
"Then how about this," he extended his hand, palm down, and with a little ruse, revealed a blue stemmed rose, holding it to her face. "You'll get to know me if you let me enjoy the privilege of courting you. That sounds like a nice deal, yeah?"
She scrutinized him again like she often did, before taking the rose from his hand. "Fair enough." Her lips curved up, but straightened immediately.
"You have, umm…" with her pointing finger, she wagged vague circles on his upper lip, "... something there."
"Mm?"
The next thing he knew, a warm hand framed his cheek, nimble thumb drawing a line on his lips. It was so quick he didn't have time to process what happened, and in the next second he was already watching her nip on the finger that graced his skin.
"Tastes... sweet." She commented, shy eyes meeting him in inquiry, "Hot chocolate?"
His mind buzzed, cheeks flared at what she had done. From now on, this was something he ought to get used to, if he didn't want to be a hapless mess around her all the time. If he'd chosen to court her, he would court her with flying colors. Act with suave, with finesse. Number one rule of a barista and a magician.
"It's mocha," he divulged, proud. "Mocha latte. My favorite drink."
"It's sweet," she nodded her head in slow approval, "I like it."
Kaito smirked smugly, stepping into her personal space. "Like I said, mocha latte is a good hot chocolate substitute." He threaded a hand through her hair as he spoke, while her hands found purchase on his chest, green apron wrinkling under them.
"First thing to know about me - sweet is my favorite flavor." He leaned his forehead on hers, blinking affectionately. "I like mocha latte," his voice came out a whisper, "I like hot chocolate," he thumbed the skin of her cheek, brushing her warm skin, "I like…" he took a deep breath, and in one final sigh, "you," he captured her lips for a kiss.
It was sweet and polite, and he was sure Aoko hadn't gotten her fix of hot chocolate yet with the way her lips tasted more of peppermint than cocoa. He was certain though, that Aoko now knew exactly what mocha latte tasted like.
She smiled on his lips once they separated, a formidable blush glowing in her face. "Guess I'll order mocha latte next time then."
"Not in this coffee shop, maybe somewhere else, this afternoon?" His brow arched in suggestion.
She stepped back, bit her lip knowingly. "Okay."
"Yo, ten minutes' up Kuroba," Shinichi coughed by the archway, arms crossed, throwing Kaito a deadpan look. "Miss Aoko," he turned kind and friendly when he addressed her.
Jesus, did the man see them? He figured not, because he wasn't blushing nor looking awkward. Unless, he was that good at hiding his reactions. (Wow, how far had he taken things with his girl for him to get so used to seeing or experiencing this admittedly stupid level of cheesiness? Must he now seriously consider taking pointers from his co-worker? His fellow lovesick idiot co-worker?)
"Kudou, mind if I clock out early today?" he asked, grin so wide it might have crept Shinichi out.
Shinichi shot a questioning brow at him, but Kaito knew he'd found his answer the moment he looked at Aoko then at him, whose one hand was still around her waist. Instead of an eye roll, a small smirk graced his lips before he disappeared to the coffee bar. "Go ahead. Not a busy day anyway."
In an instant, he was out of his apron and into his grey hoodie, baseball cap in place and Aoko's fingers slipped between his own.
("Meet Kudou, the dick," he said once they were out of hearing range.
Her eyes grew wide as saucers. "So that drink...that was for...?"
"About damn time you know."
They left the coffee shop, unable to control the laughter that bubbled out their throats.)
A/N: Written for DCMK Secret Santa 2020 exchange! Special thanks to Aina/FanaRain for proofreading. This my first decent published KaiAo fic, please tell me what you think! :)