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Coffee Shops and Cameras

Chapter 5

I tapped my foot impatiently on the plastic grey floor, the basket in my hand growing heavier and more awkward to carry by the second. My fingers glided from one box to the next on the shelf of cereals, completely ignoring the ingredients and focusing entirely on the price labels.

It was Saturday morning and I'd somehow managed to pull myself out of bed before noon to get some chores out of the way. I was in Salemart browsing through the shopping list, picking up the essentials - milk, bread, butter, as well as dinners for the next couple of days. Money had been a little tight this month, usually we greatly rely on tips Dad and I receive at our workplaces, however this month had been a disappointing few weeks for me, and Dad had only managed to bring in enough tips to buy maybe a pint of milk and a jar of peanut butter. Technically we could survive on our incomes alone, but it was always tight, and we found ourselves stretching each yen as far as we could. Even if that meant multi-purposing hand soap as shampoo some days.

I sighed and finally settled on a box of bran flakes, the cheapest box on offer, and tucked it in the shopping basket alongside the 10 packets of ramen noodles I'd raided from the snack isle.

When every item on my list was fully ticked off, aside from the tuna I couldn't find, I made my way over to the check out and awkwardly poured my purse out onto the counter top, spilling was was essentially my life savings out inches away from the man scanning each item from my bargain salvage of the morning. In the end my purse was empty and my hands were full of crap that would be gone by the end of the week. There was something so dissatisfying about shopping for food. Food was a necessity, not a treat. And trading over all my money for something so temporary made my head spin with frustration.

I found myself walking at a snail's pace as I began my short journey home, taking my time to enjoy the hot summer heat. My flip flops tapped on the concrete sidewalk rhythmically, my toes burning from the blistering sun. Weather like this made me wish I lived closer to the sea, I couldn't imagine anything more wonderful and relaxing than spending the day laid out on a beach towel in the sunshine, with the smell of the ocean tickling my nose, and maybe even a tall glass of iced tea to cool my head. I smiled to myself as I became lost in my fantasy. It was after all - nothing but a fantasy - as I never had the chance to indulge in a vacation, but a daydream that involved sunshine, iced tea and no worries almost felt like an escape in itself.

The apartment was empty when I got in, the same way I'd left it that morning. Dad was at work preparing for the usual busy Saturday night rush and wouldn't be home until the early hours of the morning. I would of course wait up for him, as I always did whenever he made his way home late. I put away the shopping, grabbing a bag of chips before closing the cupboard door on our weekly rations, then settled myself down on the couch in front of the TV. As soon as my butt hit the cushions and I let out a long sigh of relief. My muscles ached from a long week of 10 hour shifts, and my head fogged with exhaustion. My eyes were struggling to stay open.

Over the next 2 hours, I flicked through long forgotten episodes of Desperate Housewives and shovelled handfuls of chips into my mouth. This is how I spent a lot of my days off. Just doing nothing. I liked doing nothing. It was peaceful, it gave my brain a chance to recover from the stress of work and life. It gave me time to enjoy not forcing a smile to customers, to enjoy not being ordered around, to enjoy not counting up the bills I owed. On a Saturday I was just an extra cushion on the couch, and I intended on contributing absolutely nothing constructive to my day. And that was how I liked it.

I dug my hand into the bag of chips once more, wrapping my fist around another bundle of chips when I was interrupted by a loud knock from out in the hallway. I paused and furrowed my eyebrows. The knock repeated itself, this time louder and more impatient. It took me all of 10 seconds to realise that the noise was coming from the front door. I huffed in annoyance.

I'd just gotten into such a comfortable position...

With a strained heaved, I gathered myself up off the couch, inwardly scolding whoever it was who had decided to darken my doorway at 1pm on a Saturday during my "me time". I took my time walking over towards the knocking, hoping that if I took long enough they would give up and leave. But I had no such luck.

As the individual was mid-knock, I pulled open the door - making no attempt to hide the look of irritation on my face. However, that turned out not to be much of an issue when I saw who was waiting on the other side.

"Oh dear God, really?!" I groaned up to the heavens in exasperation. If I'd have bet money on who I'd expect to see on my doorstep, I never would have guessed him. I tried closing the door, but Hikaru stuck out his foot and blocked it from shutting.

"That's not very polite" he grumbled.

"Why do you keep showing up?!" I replied, giving up with the door. He rolled his eyes at me and invited himself inside the apartment, shutting us in together. I crossed my arms over my chest and kept about a 2 foot distance between us, "If this is some invite to another dinner then the answer is no. I've already done my good deed for the month and I see no obligation to commit to another"

"Wow" Hikaru raised an eyebrow, "For someone who works in the service industry you sure are rude"

"It's my day off. Hence why the last thing I wanted today was a house-call from you"

"Right...and I can see by the batman mini shorts and salsa stained t shirt I must have interrupted something important..."

"What I do in my own home is none of your business" I murmured, then subtly brushed a chip crumb off the hem of my shirt, "What do you want?"

He smirked, something that made him seem oddly chipper in comparison to the usual scowl he wore. It gave me an uneasy feeling in my stomach. Before I could question him on whether or not he was high or if Kaoru was doing a failed impression of him, he had taken a seat at the breakfast table without invitation,and began removing his leather jacket. Underneath he revealed a tight white t-shirt, it hugged his muscled chest and washboard stomach as if it had been spray painted onto him. I almost gave myself a brain aneurysm trying not to pass out in awe of him. I mean, was it even possible for people to look this perfect? Were they grown in perfect jars at the perfect factory?

"Need a tissue?" He asked.

I shook myself back into reality, "Huh?"

"You're drooling"

I blinked and quickly wiped the corners of my mouth frantically. He'd lied, but he looked pleased as he proved his point.

"Stop messing around Hikaru" I exhaled, "Why are you here? And how the hell did you know where I lived?"

"I did a background check on you" he replied blankly.

"What?!"

He rolled his eyes, "Your Dad left the address with Mom. So they could stay in touch"

Thanks for disclosing that detail with me Dad...

"You didn't answer my other question" I placed my hands on my hips, refusing to show weakness by sitting down, "I thought we had a silent agreement never to cross paths again"

"Well" he sighed impatiently, it was evident by the way he was tensed up that he'd rather have been anywhere else in the world than sat at my kitchen table, "So did I"

My head was growing fuzzier and fuzzier with confusion. I made a face, which gained me another eyeball roll.

That look was starting to really get under my skin.

"I'm not here by choice, I can assure you" he breathed, "But...once again Mom insisted"

I nodded to myself slowly. I guessed Yuzuha wanted to see Dad again. They seemed to become firm friends after the meal the other evening, it wouldn't be surprising if she wanted to extend another invitation to dinner his way, or even just a friendly chat. I could somewhat understand Hikaru having to speak to me the last time to contact us, but after discovering that Dad had left our details with them, I failed to understand why Yuzuha couldn't have called Dad directly. And what was the deal with sending Hikaru anyway? Surely it was plainly obvious that he and I don't see eye to eye.

"Surely Dad left his cell number? You guys don't need to talk through me to invite him places"

"I'm not here because of Ranka" Hikaru replied plainly, his tone challenging me to dissiper what he was trying to say, "Mom has a proposition for you"

"A proposition?" I questioned.

"A job offer"

I blinked. Okay, now I'm really confused. Before I was an 8 on the 1-10 scale of confusion, now I'm peaking at a firm 17.5.

"A...job offer?"

As what? Cleaning their pool?

"Mom hasn't stopped talking about your drawings" He explained, "Especially the one you drew of her peacock dress. She recently lost her design artist" He paused, assessing my reaction, which remained frozen in shock. "I think even you're smart enough to put two and two together"

I blinked rapidly as my head clouded with an uneasy feeling, "You mean she wants...she wants me to..." I trailed off. I decided in that moment that it was time to finally take a seat. I pulled out the chair opposite Hikaru, my eyes focusing in and out as I processed what he'd said.

"Yeah I know" Hikaru scoffed, "I don't get it either"

"She barely saw any of my work" I commented, "And...and they were hardly my best..."

"Your picture of me was unflattering to say the least"

I barely heard what he was saying anymore, my eyes settled on the fruit bowl in the centre of the table.

A job? A job with Yuzuha Hitachiin?

I froze anxiously in position. Suddenly I felt as if all my unrealised dreams had come true all at once. A job...a real career...a chance to get out of the coffee shop...a chance to escape living life paycheck to paycheck. It was a fictional fantasy I'd only seen in my most vivid and treasured dreams. And so, my mind refused to accept it, because up until that moment - it was just that. A fantasy. Completely unreal and out of my reach. But I wanted to believe it, I wanted it so fucking bad.

"Why are you here telling me this?" I murmured, "Why you?"

"Because there's a condition" he breathed, "And that condition includes me"

"I dont...I don't understand"

"Yeah well...that part is complicated"

I blinked intently, "But if I meet this condition, I'll be given this job?"

Hikaru nodded slowly.

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say that this condition was formulated by your Mom...right?" There was no way in hell Hikaru would come up with a plan that involved he and I in any type of partnership. Yuzuha must have something huge over him to have gotten him to agree with this.

"Obviously" Hikaru muttered, his eyes hardening slightly.

"Then tell me"

"It'll take some explaining"

"Well you already ruined my day off, so now I've got..." I glanced at my watch, "6 hours and 45 minutes until 'Ice Truckers' is on. Plenty of time for you to /explain/"

"In that case I'll need a drink"

I sighed as an amused smirk pulled at the corner of my mouth, "Finally"

Hikaru made a face, "Finally what?"

"Finally, something we agree on"

"This is ridiculous" I blurted, my eyes wide with a mixture of shock and disbelief, "I wouldn't have the first clue how to coach you"

"Well for some reason Mom thinks you're perfect for it" Hikaru replied with equal enthusiasm.

I stared at him, repeating his request over and over in my head. A social coach? Was there even such a thing? He wanted me to train him, to teach him how to speak and act like...well, a normal human being? The request seemed both simple and impossible at the same time.

"I don't think I've drunk nearly enough to understand what exactly you want from me" I heaved, rubbing my increasingly sore forehead as I took another sip of whiskey.

"What's not to understand?" Hikaru sighed, "In one month I'll be featured in my first solo interview, conducted by a woman who can't stand my guts. The media thrives on dragging me through the dirt, I need this interview to go well"

I arched an eyebrow, "Then why don't you just...not act like a complete dick?"

"Hence why I need you" he forced through gritted teeth, "Mom made me ask you. For some reason you don't care about impressing me, or lying to me to make me tolerate you. If I want to be convincing in this interview, that I've changed into some mundane xerox copy of every Mother's dream son-in-law, then I need coaching just like any other acting role. And it sure as hell would be easier if the coach wasn't lying through their teeth to avoid the brunt of my distaste"

"And you do understand that I die a little inside whenever I share the same square-foot as you?" I clarified.

"That's another thing we agree on. We should start keeping score"

"This is completely insane. You get that right?"

"It wasn't my idea" Hikaru grimaced, "But I have my reasons to do this for Mom"

Wow, that comment seemed almost genuine. I didn't realise Hikaru had a considerate side. But I guessed if he was going to be passionate about anything - it would be his family.

"I'm not a therapist, and I'm not an acting coach, I wouldn't know the first thing about helping you manage your feelings or even begin to understand how to teach you something as simple as common courtesy"

"Then you'd be turning down the career of a lifetime" Hikaru shrugged, "But if you accept this condition, your rent here will be paid for, your Father will want for nothing, you won't have to work in that pig pen of a coffee store and you can afford a real hairdresser to fix that mop you call a bob"

My hand instinctively went up to touch the ends of my hair that hung at the base of my jaw. I chewed my lip, ignoring the temptation to throw a quip back at him. Dad would 'want for nothing'? Did that mean I'd have enough money to support us? We could buy a real house with a garden, we could eat fresh food and not worry about affording bills, Dad wouldn't have to lose sleep working double shifts at the bar, and I could actually do something with my life that could cement a future for myself, and for Dad...

The answer was staring me right in the face.

"Can I think about it?" I murmured, surprising myself with the timid tone in my voice.

Hikaru seemed surprised too, "You've just been handed a 'get out of shit avenue' free card and you want to...think about it?"

I nodded, "I know you think I'm desperate" and I am..."But this isn't something I can't rush into without thinking about. I need to speak to Dad first"

Hikaru looked even more annoyed than before. Working closely with me would have been hell for him, so the alternative must have been something far far worse.

"I don't know anything about fashion" I blurted.

"Think of it like a paid internship" he replied, "You'll be fully trained"

"I'd have to quit my job..."

"Of course"

"I'd have to go to your house everyday..."

"Actually" Hikaru cleared his throat, "Due to the conditions, you'll have to live in with us"

"What?"

"Mom was insistent"

I shook my head frantically, "But...but I don't want to"

Hikaru shrugged, "Its a big house. If you're worried about personal space or running into me, you needn't. You'll have all the space you could want, as long as its outside the time of work with Mom and coaching with me"

"Jesus" I huffed under my breath. I buried my face in my hands and groaned to myself, trying to make sense of everything in my head, but nothing seemed to be translating correctly, "For someone who can't stand me, you seem oddly calm"

"Oh trust me" he grit his teeth, "This is just as difficult for me as it is for you"

Something about his tone of voice made me believe him. I did my best to compose myself, roughly rubbing the confusion and panic from my expression.

"I need to think about it" I repeated.

"Fine" he exhaled. Slowly he rose to his feet. I guess he did what he came here to do, there was no point in sticking around in his mind. I followed his lead, and stood from my seat, "You have until tomorrow evening. If you accept, come to the house at 8, if not, then stay here and watch your 'Ice Truckers' and eat your cheap processed food"

I glared at him, but my glare went unnoticed. He then walked past me to the door and opened it, pulling out a pack of cigarettes as he did so.

"I'm sure your Dad would appreciate the income. I can't imagine working in that bar day in and day out was the life he planned for himself" he breathed. And with that, he shut himself out, and left me stood there alone, staring after him with my mouth hung open.

HIKARU

"Look, I know you're pissed..." Kaoru said, putting his palms up in a surrendering motion, "But this is a good thing, it's what you need"

"I don't need any goddamn help Kaoru. Especially from her"

"You know that's not true, you wouldn't have gone over there if you really believed that"

"I did it for Mom" Hikaru grumbled. He stepped past his brother, fast approaching the bar across the room. His head was still reeling after seeing Haruhi, he didn't even think about what he was doing when he agreed to Mom's plan and went over to that tiny little apartment. But when she opened the door, in those tight little shorts and dishevelled t-shirt, reality dawned on him. Mom needed his interview to go well, it was vital for the future of her fashion line. See, the media loved Kaoru, they adored him. He oozed the sweet boy next door appeal all the papers and fangirls loved, and he took to interviews and solo spreads like a fish to water. There was nothing he couldn't execute flawlessly. Hikaru however, was another story entirely. He'd never done a solo project, because no one would work with him. And he wasn't stupid, he knew why. Hikaru hated people, he hated relying on others to direct him or trust their say when helping create and portray Mom's work. As far as he was concerned, no one was competent enough, no one could be trusted enough. And therefore, they just weren't worth his time.

But Hikaru's attitude didn't just affect his career, it messed with his Mom's. He was half the face of Yuzuha Hitachiin's work, and he made his half ugly.

Hikaru adored his Mother, she was perfect in his eyes, and there was nothing he wouldn't do for her. So when she told him she wanted Haruhi to be her design artist, he felt a nagging of annoyance but said nothing. But when she said she wanted her to move in to coach him, for the first time - he felt like maybe he couldn't trust his Mom's judgement as much as he thought he could. It took days before Hikaru gave in to his Mother's pleads. Hikaru had been to councillors and therapists in the past - in hopes that maybe they could break through Hikaru's fierce exterior, but within moments of meeting them they caved and fell right under Hikaru's thumb. And there was nothing they could say after that that he would be able to take seriously. Mom's new plan was Haruhi. All because she didn't back down and didn't censor a single thing when it came to Hikaru. She wasn't going to be manipulated.

Hikaru knew how much his Mother wanted him to let go of this defensive, standoffish armour he wore. And once the tears started, he couldn't say no. She was his Mom. And that was the only reason he could go through with it.

"What did she say?" Kaoru asked, interrupting Hikaru's train of thought.

"I didn't pay much attention" He lied, "But she wants to think about it"

"Think about it?"

"Yeah"

'Hopefully she'll just say no and things can go back to how they were' - he thought.

"I still don't understand why you hate her so much" Kaoru sighed, "Is it because she's just as defensive and stubborn as you?"

Hikaru grimaced, lifting his freshly poured glass of whiskey to his lips. In all honesty...he wasn't exactly sure why he disliked the woman. She just gave him an unpleasant feeling in his gut, a feeling that stewed up a mixture of anger, frustration and irritation. He wasn't prepared to admit the sick arousal that accompanied those feelings, it made him feel weak and pathetic that an average girl with a tight waist and curved hips could stir such an intimate feeling from him. He remembered those tiny shorts hugging to that perfect backside of hers, revealing her creamy thighs, and long toned legs.

"I don't have time to deal with charity cases" Hikaru grumbled.

"You shouldn't think so little of normal people Hika, if Mom didn't have the career she has - we would be just like them"

"But we're not. So I don't need to care or waste my energy"

Kaoru sighed, "I hope she agrees. You can't talk like this at your interview. You'll ruin Mom's reputation" The thought made Hikaru wince, if he fucked up his Mom's career, he'd never be able to forgive himself. After all, that was the only reason he'd agreed to this.

After a quick drink, Hikaru wandered out onto the balcony of his bedroom. He stared out across the courtyard, admiring the way the spotlights illuminated the stoned pathway towards the pool in the darkness. A drop of water touched his cheek, signalling the awaited rain the garden so desperately needed. Kaoru could be heard in the hallway, probably debating whether or not to call it a night already. He was a good boy, always had to have his 8 hours beauty sleep. Hikaru didn't see how 8 hours could be possible, he hadn't had a good nights rest in years.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes, allowing the rain to soak through his t shirt. His head was fuelled with a sense of apprehension and self rage, ignited with thoughts of his brother, his mother, and himself. Why couldn't he be just like Kaoru? Why couldn't he be the son his Mom wanted? These were the thoughts echoing through his mind. He knew his Mom would never tell him he'd disappointed her, but he could see it. He knew his attitude frightened her, he knew it hurt her to see him hold everyone at arm's length and treat people with such disrespect. Once upon a time he'd been a carbon copy of his brother, but times had changed since then. And now he wasn't sure who he was. All he knew was that as long as he remained the man he was, his Mother would never be happy. If only it were easy to change himself.

This interview had been pushed for years, and the success of it would show the world who Hikaru Hitachiin was. It had to go well, there was no alternative. To fail would mean destroying his Mother's reputation.

But, Haruhi...

Why couldn't he get past the feelings she invoked? Even the idea of her being in his house, sleeping in the empty room down the hall, eating his food...made his eyebrows furrow in anger and his fists ball at his sides. He didn't like that she was so reluctant to be controlled by him. He knew that was fucked up in so many ways, but he didn't care. He needed to feel in control of people, but Haruhi fought back. That made him angry, it made him feel weak.

But for his Mom. He would try. Even if it killed his sanity. He would try.

A knock at the door brought Hikaru out of his reverie, bringing him to the realisation that his hair was dripping wet and his shirt was clinging to his body. He moved back into the bedroom, shutting the balcony doors behind him.

"Yes" He called out, he grabbed a towel and then peeled his soaked shirt off over his head and threw it to the ground.

"Mr Hitachiin" Miss Kimura the maid called out from the doorway, her tone sounded uneasy, as it always did when she spoke to him, "Mrs Hitachiin is asleep and...well..." she trailed off, "You have a guest"

Hikaru made a face as he pulled on a clean shirt.

"Miss Kimura?" He questioned, opening the door to her. He prepared to demand what the problem was at 11pm but as he opened his mouth to speak, his eyes drifted over the maid's shoulder and rested on the person stood behind her.

There, with arms wrapped tightly around the drenched coat she wore, her short wet hair slicked back above her shoulders, with an expression of pure suspense on her face was Haruhi.

"Hi" she breathed, "...I thought about it. And my answer is yes"