Chapter 1
There's a wish that I have. It's a boring one and even a bit frivolous but I can't seem to shake it.
I want to live a good life. I want to make people happy.
"Have a good day!" My voice is hoarse from saying the same thing over and over again. My legs have gone past the point of aching and are now starting to cramp from standing on a hardwood floor, moving from one display case to the ovens in the back. And my shoulder… Well, my body's always been one inch away from giving out so it shouldn't bother me that one shoulder is starting to constantly give me issues.
"Minato," a light voice calls from the back followed by a bob of fuschia hair and the chemical tang of newly bleached hair. With how much Riku changes her appearance, it probably looks like my bakery has a revolving door of moody teens, all unable to walk around without Burnout Syndrome blasting from their headphones. Her eyes latch onto the door before she narrows them at me. "It was closing time ten minutes ago."
I can't help the bashful smile that itches at the corner of my lips. "They just wanted a few things. And we were still open…"
Her platforms echo off the wood floors, swiping the open sign to closed before she's glaring back at me. "Well, now we're closed. Honestly, you're too much of a pushover."
It's not...a lie. Not entirely. I've been getting the same thing since I was back in high school. The biggest shock was when I got out and opened this bakery and actually made a decent living. My parents were constantly telling me that they were surprised that I didn't just give people free pastries. Well, unless it was their birthday. Or anniversary.
My fingers dig into the sore muscles of my shoulder, making me wince. Two more days and then I'll have a day off. With five employees, I've finally grown enough to be able to take some time for myself. That first year… I cringe.
"The back-" I start.
"Mopped. Trash is out. Prep is done for tomorrow morning. And…" Riku snaps a few to-go bags out of her apron, cramming the leftover bagels and sandwiches into them with a manic vengeance. "Aren't I the best?"
I tug out a broom and start sweeping up the front entryway area. "You should really get a raise."
Her eyes shine an alarming color, the overhead light reflecting off of her lime-green contacts strangely. "Raise?"
"Too bad you decided to work for a poor bakery just starting out." I give her a sympathetic smile as she shoots me a glare and a grumble.
Barely around the corner from debt, The Bread Basket was just starting to earn any sort of profit. Sometimes I still got dizzy seeing the cost of all of our ingredients along with the rent and expenses for this place. There was still barely enough room for more than five people to walk in between the brightly lit display cases, random pithy signs hung above everyone as incentive. Shoved into the back, the register barely had enough room to allow one person, the aisle leading to the back kitchens barely wide enough to let our baking racks through.
A flash of lights caught my eyes, the drizzle outside making everything seem hazy, almost dream-like. There it was - what I paid for. Just 20 feet away was the main subway system that connected most of the city, a rush of people expelling from its cave-like mouth every 20 minutes. As I watched, a couple ran past, their eyes catching each other as they ducked under a shared umbrella. From their clothes, it looked like they both worked in an office. Maybe the same one. A familiar tightness gripped my throat.
"Do you want me to grab the mop?" I blinked, coming out of my haze. Riku had already bundled up the to-go bags, dragging out her messenger bag and coat from the back. She was only 18, barely out of high school and still quivering with the energy of someone who had many things to do but not enough organizational skills to do more than one a day.
Looking at the way she had touched up her makeup, it had to be a date tonight. Maybe a party.
"No need," I said, forcing a smile. "I can do it."
"Cool." The puffy jacket was zipped before I could blink, her face creasing with determination as she took the messenger bag and to-go bags and headed for the bike parked just outside the window.
I stepped forward, trying to grab for the bags. "I can-"
"I'm going past the shelter anyway," she cut in, jerking away from my seeking reach. Her eyes scanned around the small space once more, looking vaguely unhappy. For a moment, she looked conflicted, her brows furrowing, bottom lip tucked between her teeth before she finally let out an agitated breath. "You know you can take more than one day off, right? Sora's more than capable of taking on your duties for two days."
My shoulders tensed, a shot of pain lancing down my arm as I took her words in stiffly. It was a thought that had crossed my mind more than once these past months. One that made my skin crawl with anxiety. For three years, I had poured myself into this place. Three years of planning, saving, and sweating away and now I wasn't sure if I could let it go.
My lips felt wooden, unmoving even as I forced them up into a poor semblance of a smile. "Two whole days? What would I do with that?"
I had wanted to play it off as a joke. Now, hearing it aloud it sounded...pathetic. I winced.
Unnaturally tinted eyes met mine. "How long has it been since you dated? Went out shopping? Hell, had a spa day?"
All of that sounded vaguely terrifying. I didn't answer, choosing instead to sweep aimlessly at the clump of dirt clustered at my feet. 26 years old and I hadn't seen the opposite sex aside from the brief moments when I was demanding payment from them for over four years. My ex-communication from the male gender had been an easy one - one with little fuss and even less emotional trauma. I had never really met anyone who was more than a passing interest. And I liked it like that. It allowed me enough time to focus on the things that really mattered - like making sure that The Bread Basket didn't sink into ruin.
Apparently, the silence had stretched on long enough because Riku sighed, the bags wrinkling noisily in her grip as she adjusted. "Just think about it, okay? You've worked hard. You deserve a break."
I watch her go, slightly ashamed that I just let an 18-year-old completely own me like that. I would have liked to come up with some smart comeback - maybe that I did have a boyfriend. He was right in the apartment balanced on top of my little bakery. Waiting. For me.
A sigh slipped through. "How pathetic."
My eyes drifted around the display cases, the neatly organized trinkets that went with coffee and sweets. I was proud. So proud of myself. How many people had looked at me with that slight tilt to their lips, the glint in their eyes that said that they slightly pitied you even though they would never say as much to your face? I had proven them all wrong.
But staring at the line of espresso machines and styrofoam cups just behind the counter I also felt a twinge of something else. Something bitter that smoothed along my gut like a salve. Jealousy. Jealousy that this place had given me so much and taken so much in return. Bitterness that came from years of keeping to myself. I wanted to date. I wanted to fall in love. I wanted to have children and a husband and friends to go to the movies with on the weekends…
Slap!
I blinked, the sting of the freshly hit skin smarting as I drew in a shaky breath, staring down at my own hand which tingled from the impact. I took another unsteady gulp of air, straightening. How ungrateful. How stupid when I was just about to have the freedom to do what I wanted. All it had taken was a few years of sacrifice. Was that so bad? I had worked for this place, worked for these opportunities.
I blew out a breath, sweeping the cluster of dirt out into the rain. I was lucky to have the things that I did. A car outside flashed its headlights in silent warning, the sound of tires skidding on slick pavement cutting through my glass windows. My eyes drifted to the weeping face of busy Japan outside. I was lucky but I was also sad.
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