AN: Kaminari is getting better of being a barista, Jirou starts being more honest with herself, and Momo and Shouto meet more often outside the shop.
Chapter 12. Their Respective Daily Grinds
Jirou isn't particularly fond of coffee shops. They're crowded, and the baristas are often too chatty for their own good - really, all they need to do is pour her lactose-free caffeinated drinks and take her money, so why do they feel the sow in unnecessary words?
A Cup of Magic is different, though. Momo took her there for the first time when they were both ten, and Jirou still recalls the scent of tea and cappuccino that hit her nostrils, as well as the soothing soundtrack punctuated by the clink-clank of the dishes, like it was yesterday. What she remembers the best, however, is the guitar shining in a corner and the excited nod Momo's mom gave her when she strummed the finely attuned strings. Looking back on it now, this may be the moment she fell in love with the liberating feeling of dressing feelings too big for words in music.
Jirou didn't believe in magic - she still doesn't. But she does believe in the charm of this place, in the beam that Momo sported when she handed Jirou her first cup of manually brewed tea and the smile she still offers her along with her drink, and in the soothing tranquility of the quaint shop.
Since then, she's made it a habit to get her daily coffee fix from this shop and steal glances at the polished stage in the corner. The more she grew, the more imposing the stage seemed to her, as if its size was increasing at an even faster rate than Jirou's growth spurt. One day, she vowed to herself, she'll step onto it not only when there are few people in the shop, but when the place is bustling with life - and she'll make each and every pair of eyes look solely at her.
She rips her gaze from the stage as she walks into the shop now, and pulls out her earbuds to hear the sound of the wind chimes greet her. As if pulled by a magnetic force, her eyes land on the dazzling smile that blinds her. She blinks as Kaminari whispers something to Uraraka and the jazzy tune changes to The Click Five, and Jirou snorts as the lyrics tickle her earshell.
She's cold and she's cruel/ But she knows what she's doin'/ She pushed me in the pool/ At our last school reunion/ She laughs at my dreams/ But I dream about her laughter/ Strange as it seems/ She's the one I'm after.
"Cringe much?" Jirou says, leaning against the free counter and letting her purse slide down her shoulder with a smirk that masks her flustered surprise.
Kaminari mirrors her stance, tilting his head in what he deems an innocent manner, but only exposes him for the cocky barista he is. "I don't know what you're talking about." His shit-eating grin says otherwise.
Jirou snorts again, fishing for her wallet as she shoots Kaminari an unimpressed face. He only grins sheepishly, adopting his husky, charmer tone that leaves Jirou chortling - and totally not blushing, that's just from the temperature difference, of course. "So, what can I get the pretty lady today?"
"There's no one in the line behind me, Pikachu," Jirou easily replies, pointing at the menu on the wall behind him - mostly so she won't have to meet the evident pride of having made her blush shining in his eyes. "Get me the medium Calm Cappuccino, cinnamon on top, no cream because i need it to be as dark as my soul." She slides him a bill as she quirks an eyebrow. "And make it quick, Pikachu, I have a jamming session with my guitar."
"I'll make it espresso," he winks. Jirou can tell her groan only tugs at his smile, and slaps a hand over her face to hide a blooming simper. He's a lost cause.
As she watches Kaminari prepare her beverage, Jirou adjusts the strap of her guitar case on her shoulder and unwillingly hums along to Just the Girl, wondering how long it's been since she last heard the song. It's not hard to guess, given that only a complete dork like this particular blond barista would ever listen to it. The lyrics make her snicker, especially the And when she sees it's me/ On her caller ID/ She won't pick up the phone, but her simmering laughter is interrupted by the sound of Uraraka giggling.
The pink-cheeked barista is slapping Kaminari's back in between fits of laughter, pointing at the wand he's attempting to draw in the foam with and tipping her head back as more giggles bubble out of her. "You suck," she eventually manages, wiping away tears from her eyes.
"It's hard to focus. Did you not hear her laughing?! Hell, did you not see her blushing?! How am I supposed to-" noticing Uraraka's devilish grin, Kaminari bites back the rest of his words and meets Jirou's grinning face. His expression immediately shifts from amused despair to dead-seriousness and he raises a hand as if to keep her out. "What happens behind the bar stays behind the bar. These are strictly work conversations."
The laugh Jirou had been suppressing wheezes out of her, and she almost bends over at the dejected face the doofus wears. It's endearing, if she were honest with herself. Kaminari sighs, but Jirou can see the shadow of a smile haunting his eyes, especially as he hands out her drink.
The foam is indeed messy, but if she squints, Jirou can see the faint traces of a cinnamon heart. It's both a bit childish and very much cheesy, but her cheeks heat up nonetheless. She only rolls her eyes at him and tries not to bat away the ghosting sensation of his fingers brushing over hers when he gives her the mug.
It's only when Jirou has shrugged off her jacket and sunken into the plush armchair in the far corner of the shop that she sees the heart he drew on her cup in permanent marker and the phone number he scribbled inside. He's such a lost cause.
Thankfully, the steam makes her red face invisible to him - or at least so she hopes.
Ochako is perhaps as sweet as Sato's cakes, but she sure knows how to tease him. "Just ask her out already," she says as she works around another order and stuffs the cup in Kaminari's hands. "I can tell you she's single."
"And I can tell you she's uninterested," Kaminari sighs, pouring the smoothie in the plastic container and topping it off with ice cubes - he has no idea why anyone would drink this frozen extravaganza with the ever dropping temperatures, but he isn't going to judge them. He is, however, going to give himself a pat on the shoulder - he's been getting better at this whole barista-ing thing.
"You won't know unless you try," Ochako playfully winks, bumping his fist as they deliver what appears to be the final order of the rush hour.
Kaminari's grin is dampened by the reminder that Jirou isn't, indeed, interested in him. "I've asked her out before," he tells his coworker, slumping against the counter. "She snorted and batted me off."
"Maybe she thought it was a joke?"
"I serenaded her, Ochako!"
"You serenaded me this morning, and I came here with Deku," she points out, a hand propped on her hip for emphasis. "What I'm saying is, you can come off as a bit of a jester, so don't blame her for thinking you were just messing around."
"I've never messed around when it comes to Jirou!" Kaminari protests.
"But have you ever told her that?" He hasn't. Ochako must guess his answer, for she pats his shoulder encouragingly. "Don't give up yet, then!"
She's definitely sweeter that Sato's cakes, and Kaminari is about to tell her that and squash her in a hug when he hears a crash and the bathroom door is banged against the wall, the sound reverberating in the shop for several moments. "What was-" Kaminari begins, but then his eyes fall on the guitar lying on the floor - the precious guitar Jirou would never drop - and he's in front of the bathroom door before he can fully grasp the situation.
"Jirou?" he calls, but is only met with the sound of running water and - is it just his pessimism or is she throwing up-
"I've got this," Ohako says, gently pushing him aside as she knocks on the door. "Jirou?" There's still no answer apart from a faint groan. "I'm coming in." There's a muffle of protest and more disturbing noises that make Ochako add, "It's just me, Kaminari is going back to the counter now." The man is ready to protest, but Ochako's stern look sends him padding back to the empty barista-only zone.
They're inside for about five minutes, but to Kaminari, it feels like an eternity. He taps the seconds away with one foot against the floor, as if helping the clock in producing rhythmic sounds would speed up time. To his chagrin, the seconds pass just as boringly slow, and his anxiety grows with each deafening tick-tock.
When Ochako finally comes out, she rushes to Jirou's purse and yells, "Water!" over her shoulder. Kaminari executes the order as fast as he can and Ochako grabs the glass from him without any further explanation, disappearing into the bathroom yet again.
It's yet another two minutes until she gets out, this time supporting a very pale Jirou with an arm looped around her waist. Kaminari rushes by their side and makes to grab Jirou's other hand and sling it over his neck, but Ochako keeps him at arm's length. "Your perfume is too strong and it'll only make her more nauseous again."
"It's okay," Jirou weakly offers, plopping on the first chair that's scattered into her path. Her hair is plastered to her face by a sheet of sweat, and she looks like those zombies in the movies, but all Kaminari can do is stare as he tries wrapping his head around this without making the situation worse. "Quit giving me that look, Pikachu. I'm not dead, just lactose-intolerant."
"Wha-" the words die in his throat as Kaminari realizes he's the one who prepared her drink, and he put in milk - normal milk, with 3,5% fat and all the good stuff - and kneels next to Jirou, bowing deeply. "I'm so so sorry, I had no idea you were allergic to milk I would have never-"
"Jeez, calm down," she wheezes, a mischievous tilt to her voice as Uraraka forces Kaminari to stop rubbing his forehead against the floors. He still can't bring himself to look her in the eyes, however. "Momo always prepares my drinks, so I forgot to mention it. It's actually my fault."
"No, I should have asked, that's my job and I totally failed and I can't believe you were sick I'm so so so-" A hand chops his head and Kaminari stops talking to look up at Jirou. Colour is slowly returning to her cheeks, and despite not looking in tiptop form, she has enough energy to roll her eyes at him.
"I'm going to survive this incredibly difficult task and gain some much needed XP," she solemnly says, and Kaminari dares smile a little at her joke. "Although I'll feel like shit for the rest of the day, so I should probably just go home."
"I'll walk with you!" Kaminari immediately says.
"You're sort of in the middle of work," Jirou points out, bemused.
"I can cover your shift," Uraraka offers without any hesitation and with a large beam, pumping her fist up.
Kaminari feels twice as guilty now, and he bites his lower lip as he mulls over the suggestion. One option has Jirou walking home alone in the gloomy weather and with a gloomy attitude, but the other - "Yaomomo said you overworked yourself-"
"Don't sweat it!" Ochako confidently says. "I'll call Kirishima to come in a bit earlier. And besides, the rush hour is already over!"
Kaminari scrutinizes her reassuring smile. "Are you certain?"
"Of course!" she jumps up and dusts her apron off before leaning back in to whisper conspiratorially, "Go get your girl!"
Kaminari swallows and prays that Jirou can't see the blush he's sure he's sporting. "Thanks, Ochako. You're a lifesaver!" She winks his way, skipping towards the counter and taking out her phone to contact Kirishima. "I'll cover your shift the next time!" he calls after her, before turning back to face Jirou and picking up her guitar. "So, let me help? I promise I won't screw up this time."
She blinks at him, as if he's a partiture she can't read, and eventually says, "You really don't have to."
"But I want to." Kaminari really hopes she understands that.
Momo really should be taking Iida's advice and join him for a jogging session every now and then. Her joints crack after having spent five hours on her chair in front of test tubes and microscopes and more test tubes, and she hasn't even finished her research paper, but she called it quits when she started seeing double - tomorrow is a new day to be spent with her samples.
She stops when a cat crosses her path, and can't help but bend down to pet the white feline. It purrs and pushes its head against Momo's palm, the sound rumbling through its body as it wags its tail delicately. Momo can't suppress the smile tugging at her lips, so she jolts like she's been caught doing something unspeakable when her name is called.
"Momo?" The voice sounds familiar, and Momo looks up to see Shouto bending over her, curious eyes darting between her and the cat. A mad blush takes over her face when he leans over her shoulder and her mind frantically scrambles for an explanation for the sudden proximity which she had not prepared her heart for.
She understands his reasoning when his hand comes to rest on the body of the feline, which rolls over for him to scratch its tummy. He's so close that Momo can see his smile puts small dimples in his cheeks, and she's overcome by an entirely different sort of warmth. He's unpredictable, as always, but he'd be boring if she could pinpoint his movements in a pattern.
And just as always, Momo jots down new information about Shouto: he likes cats.
He likes them enough to carry snacks around with him, which the cat happily gobbles from his outstretched palm. "Do you want to feed her too?" Shouto asks, shuffling away from Momo to rummage through his bag and hand some out for her.
She takes the offer without questioning why Shouto seems to be a walking cat-feeding machine, and watches as the white ball of fur sniffs at her fingers before licking her hand and eating her share. Momo giggles at the sensation, scratching the cat's jaw with her free hand.
"Her name is Eri. Or at least that's what I call her," Shouto offers, running his hand through the cat's snow white fur and smoothing out stubborn tuffs that stick out. "She's a stray that has been around for about an year now."
"How come you haven't adopted her?" The question slips out before Momo can analyse how rude it sounds. "I mean, you seem like you care a lot about her and-"
"I want to," Shouto says with a hint of sadness. "But I'm not home much and I think she'd just be lonely. Cats need affection, and that's not something I'm particularly good at showing, either," he adds as a bitter afterthought, earning a meow from the oblivious cat that turns away from Momo to rub her head against Shouto's palm again.
"I think she'd like to disagree," Momo translates, giving him an encouraging smile. "I don't know who told you that, Shouto, but you're warm." He blinks, and if one month of knowing him is anything to go by, that means she surprised him. "You are," she repeats.
After mulling this for a few moments, he asks, "Is this a pun on my body heat?"
Momo bites back a chuckle-sigh, and shakes her head gently. She doesn't know why, but she feels like touching him would scare him away, as if Shouto himself is a frightened cat, so instead, she lets her fingers sink in the white fur and says, "You're a warm person, Shouto. You're kind, and gentle, and a bit awkward sometimes." The smile she's sporting grows as she talks, mellowing out her words.
Her fingers stumble against his in the mass of plushy hair. He doesn't pull away. "I'm honored to be your friend."
That makes something shimmer in Shouto's eyes - Momo can't quite read it, but it's softening the lines of his face into something so kind and beautiful that it tugs at Momo's heartstrings. His fingers slide through hers tentatively, until her hands are completely engulfed in his bigger ones, his body heat seeping into the frozen pads of her fingers. "You really are warm," she mutters to herself, feeling a curtain of pink dust her cheeks.
"So do you think maybe I should take her home?" Shouto asks, excitement evident in his voice. When Momo nods, his face lights up as if he was just given permission to ride the best rollercoaster in the park, and she smiles at how new this is to him.
Shouto cradles the cat in his arms when he gets up, holding her against his warm coat and tucking her head under his chin. He doesn't let go of Momo's hand, though. Not that she doesn't want him to - for some reason, this feels right.
The walk to his apartment, is mostly quiet, but Momo has never felt so at ease in silence before.
AN: Hi!
So no, I'm not dead, but I've had a rough month. First an interview (it went well), then a German exam (it also went well) and today a chem contest (it went... well?) Aaaanyhow though, that stress calls for an ACOM update, and I've been DYING to write this for a while, so here! I hope you've enjoyed it!
We're reaching the conclusion to the Kamijirou arc in about two chapters, which will bring us to the next mini arc! There is still todomomo to be had, as you can see, so no worries there, and I hope you enjoy!