Kanade was late.
That was the thought running through Yuzuru's head as he glanced at the clock inside his café, each movement of the hands making his heart sink a little lower.
Sigh. He was being unreasonable. She had never specified when she would arrive, so expecting that she would show up at the same time as yesterday was irrational.
But no matter how much he told himself that, his heart continued to tighten as the moments passed without interruption.
It was getting late, so if she didn't arrive soon, then he would have to close and go home. After all, he couldn't afford to stay up late and risk oversleeping tomorrow.
His income was low enough without missing a day thanks to pining over a visit that might never come.
Several more minutes passed in this fashion, with him periodically glancing at the clock and grimacing each time it reminded him of how late it had gotten.
He sighed. "Well, so much for that."
He would close shop and call it a day. Waiting in suspense any longer would only keep him up all night.
As he opened the door so he could flip the "Open" sign to "Closed," he froze in his tracks.
Face-to-face with him was a white-haired girl.
The girl he had been waiting for.
" . . ."
" . . ."
After staring at each other for what seemed like an eternity, he finally mustered the strength to open his mouth.
"What . . . are you doing outside my shop?"
"I was debating on whether I should go in."
"And . . . just why were you hesitating over something like that?"
" . . ."
He rubbed his eyes as he let out a tired sigh. "Never mind. How long have you been standing here, anyway?"
"About fifteen minutes."
Hahhhhh, so this girl had arrived around the same time after all.
Except she had declined to come in, so he had worked himself into a panic over nothing.
How troublesome.
He turned back, the task of closing shop banished from his mind. "Well, come on in. You'll catch a cold if you stand out there for much longer."
One-by-one, they stepped through, the bell's musical chimes heralding their entrances.
A chime he would much have preferred to hear twenty minutes ago.
Oh, well. What's done is done.
"You know, I was starting to think you wouldn't come," he said as he slipped behind the counter once more.
"I'm sorry if I made you wait."
"No, it's fine. I got worried over an assumption I made, so it's partly my fault too."
"Regardless, I should've been more decisive."
"Oh." He paused as he shuffled nervously. "Well, come have a seat. I got the Mapo tofu just as I said I would."
He took the container out of the bag and set it on the counter.
Immediately, she perked up at the scent of its delectable, spicy tang.
"How much?" she asked with a hint of impatience.
He named a figure, and she nodded and handed over the money.
"Hmm? You gave me a bit extra."
He tried to give the excess money back, but she declined.
"It's a tip for going through all that trouble," she explained.
He blinked. "It wasn't a bother at all, really."
She continued to insist, and he eventually accepted the tip.
As Kanade opened the container, a glass of water slid down the counter and came to rest next to her eager hands.
"You might need that soon," Yuzuru said with a wry smile.
She gazed at the glass. "Thank you," she murmured.
She turned her attention back to her food and tore the plastic spoon that had come with the package out of its wrapping.
She scooped the first mouthful into her mouth –
Golden eyes widened.
Her hands became a blur, a well-oiled machine with the sole purpose of scooping as much food into her mouth as fast as possible.
The glass of water remained untouched.
xxx
Yuzuru was utterly baffled.
The girl before him was shoveling food into her mouth so quickly that it was a miracle that she didn't choke on it.
She didn't seem the least bit bothered by the super-spicy nature of the food either. The glass of water he had poured for her had yet to be touched.
And at the rate she was going, he doubted that it would be.
While she was enjoying her meal, he busied himself with dishwashing and the other duties he had to tend to.
The café wasn't going to care for itself.
No matter how much he wished it would at times.
He fell into his familiar routine: washing plates and dishes, double checking his sale records (it had yet to increase despite Hinata's assertions), and wiping off the chairs and tables while everything else faded into the background.
It was after he was more than halfway through with his duties that he noticed a difference in his surroundings.
With a start, he realized that the sound of Kanade wolfing down her food had vanished. Looking over, he saw that she was daintily wiping her mouth with napkins.
The glass of water was still untouched.
"Are you sure you don't want to drink any water?" he asked with concern.
Her eyes slid to meet his. They seemed to burn brighter, as if the Mapo tofu had infused her spirit with its spicy fire.
"I don't need to."
"Isn't your mouth burning up right now? How do you stand it?"
She glanced away. "I like the feeling."
His jaw dropped. "You like it?!"
"Yes."
He scratched the back of his head. "You have . . . unique tastes."
She tilted her head towards him. "Do you think I'm strange?"
He frantically waved his hands. "No, no! I'm just curious why you like it so much."
"It makes me feel alive."
He paused. "Huh?"
She gazed out the window with a distant look. "Like there's a fire inside me," she murmured.
She fell silent after that.
He fidgeted nervously during the lull in the conversation.
Crap. What am I supposed to say to that?
Well, when in doubt, change the topic. At least, that's what his old boss always advised him to do.
If you can't find something to say, then change the subject so you can! Number one rule of engaging with the customers is to always be talking!
"Well, I'll take that trash for you. I guess you'll be leaving now?"
She didn't answer, merely sitting there with a thoughtful expression and making no move to get up and leave.
He paused in his clean up as he noticed her inactivity. "Uh . . . excuse me?"
"I don't . . . want to leave yet."
He froze. He had no idea why someone like her would stay any longer than necessary in his dingy shop. "Well . . . I stay open for a while longer, so I suppose there's no reason you can't stay."
Slowly, she nodded. "Thank you."
They lapsed again into silence. He continued to clean up the store while she remained motionless, a troubled look in her eyes.
He flinched as the floorboards creaked under his weight as he bustled around. Every rustle, every clink, every creak: they all seemed unnaturally loud amidst the stifling silence that had pervaded his diner.
It was maddening.
Gah, I can't stand this!
"So, what's your family like?" he abruptly asked.
She looked at him with a blank expression. "My parents are dead."
He flinched.
Great job, me. Way to pick the one topic that kills the mood.
"Oh . . . I'm so sorry for asking!" He bowed as he continued to apologize profusely.
"It's alright."
Her tone did not contain a hint of irritation despite his blunder.
He sighed in relief. "Sorry, again, for bringing that up. My parents died when I was young, and I know that I wouldn't like it if someone brought it up again."
". . . I see."
He racked his brain for something, anything he could say to defuse the awkward atmosphere that had settled over them like a miasma. He was so distracted that he did not notice the way her fists tightened nor the way she seemed to hunch over the counter.
"Do you remember them?"
A soft voice broke him out of his thoughts.
He snapped to attention. "Huh?"
"Your parents. Do you remember them?" she repeated.
He scratched the back of his head. "Well, it was a long time ago . . . but I can still remember some things about them." He smiled nostalgically. "Like the way my mom smiled while she was cooking, how my dad enjoyed watching sports, and how they fussed over my grades in school."
"You miss them . . . don't you?"
He sighed. "Yeah. I guess I do." He looked at her expectantly. "What about you? Do you . . . miss your parents?"
She stayed silent for a long time. When she spoke, her voice was tinged with a hint of melancholy.
"Is it strange . . . that I cannot remember them?"
He blinked. "What? Even if your parents died while you were young, surely you must have some memories of them?"
She shook her head. "They never . . . interacted with me very much. They were always very busy . . ."
"Oh . . . well, I guess it's understandable in that case." He paused. Then, trying to inject a hint of optimism into the conversation, he said, "At least, you had other family members who cared for you, right?"
She hesitated. "I suppose so," she said forlornly.
Yuzuru frowned. He could tell that something wasn't quite right, that there was something more to the matter that she wasn't revealing.
He wanted to move on from the dreary subject and talk about lighthearted things . . .
But running away from problems never solved anything, did it?
He set down the towel he had been using to wipe off a nasty stain.
"Even if your . . . other family . . . aren't exactly the warmest of the bunch, you don't have to rely on them alone. You can find someone else: a friend, an associate . . . just about anyone willing to listen to you. Someone who can act as your anchor and comfort you when you need it. Someone who cries when you cry and laughs when you laugh. Someone . . . who can give you a reason to keep going."
He could still remember his anchor, that bright sun in his life who was taken away from him far too soon.
But he recovered. Slowly and tortuously, he pulled through. He found something else to live for and friends who dropped by to keep him company.
A luxury that Kanade may not have had.
She remained silent, brows furrowed in thought and a distant look in her eyes.
Suddenly, she stood up and walked away.
She passed by him without a word and went out the door without so much as a farewell.
Surprised by her sudden exit, he could only stare vacantly at her retreating figure as a shadow brushed past him as well.
Did I mess up?
He really hoped he hadn't, but he wasn't going to bet on it.
Sigh. He really didn't have much luck in life.
The air conditioner sputtered and died out as if to reaffirm his thoughts.
He felt a sudden urge to strangle whatever god out there was in charge of luck.
xxx
The god of luck must have a grudge against him.
That was the only possible explanation for his recent string of bad luck.
He wondered if he should find the nearest shrine to offer his prayers (complaints) to the deity, but he doubted that it would change much.
Gods help those that help themselves.
A saying that his old boss had been fond of.
"Well, how am I going to deal with this?" he mused.
It was late. He had checked his sale records before closing up shop, and what he saw was not reassuring.
"My rent payment is due soon, and with numbers as low as these, I won't be able to make it without tightening my belt."
It was a cycle he had grown used to by now. Whenever his sales dropped a substantial amount, he had to cut down on his expenses to meet the rent. Usually, it was enough to simply cut down on entertainment costs for a while, such as cable for the TV. However, when the slump was particularly bad, he reduced expenses in other areas as well, such as food and clothing.
Unfortunately, this time seemed like it would be one of the worse slumps, so he would be bored and just a tad bit hungry.
Not for the first time, he wondered why he was running a coffee shop just as likely to earn him a loss as it was to earn him a profit.
Oh, right. Because he had never finished school, and there were few people willing to hire a dropout like him.
Also because the shop held a great deal of sentimental value for him, and it wasn't much worse than the other low-end jobs he could have gotten.
"Nothing else to do but tough it out."
He had considered advertising to increase his revenue, but ads were expensive in this day and age. Hiring people to stand outside his shop to draw in customers wasn't cheap either, and he didn't want to risk going into the red just for the possibility that he might recoup his loss with some bonus.
He would play it safe. As long as nothing drastic like the rent increasing occurred, he should be fine, right?
"I really hope the god of luck wasn't paying attention to what I just thought."
Because with the way his luck was going, his landlord would bang on his door the next morning and tell him that his bills had just gotten a lot larger.
But there was no way that would happen, right?