Work Text:
R O A S T
Sakura was close to losing control.
She knew it, her coworker knew it, and the rosette was pretty sure the customers in the shop knew it as well.
Sakura wasn’t sure what put her in such a foul mood this morning. Maybe it was the sudden change in the weather. Summer in Konoha was a dry, sometimes humid season that held very few cloudy days, let alone long periods of rainfall.
It had come to a surprise to all inhabitants of the city when it rained earlier that week, and they had been shocked even further as it continued to fall for the next six days. The air was so brittle and cold it could snap, and if it didn’t, Sakura found herself thinking that she just might.
She preferred the sun and its warmth carried on a breeze over the cold, desolate rainfall. Weather like this never failed to make her particularly sour.
Or, maybe she had an attitude because Naruto kept her awake half the night.
He had called right before Sakura was about to go to bed, recounting, in a jumbled rant of excited squeals and shouts, how his first date went with his new girlfriend. Every time Sakura made an excuse to end the phone call, her childhood best friend rolled right into another aspect of his day out with Hinata, proceeding to describe the occurrence in vivid detail.
Naruto was too earnest and enthusiastic about his new relationship, and Sakura couldn’t find it in her heart to hang up on him. So, she listened, albeit somewhat listlessly, and offered her opinions here and there when prompted.
By the time the knuckleheaded blond let her off the hook, it was well past midnight, and her shift at the café was set to start in a few scant hours.
When her alarm went off, startling her back into the world of the living, Sakura felt robbed.
There was no way, no way, that it was time to get up.
Yet, the bold, neon numbers displayed on the clock’s surface did not lie. Languidly and heavy-limbed she pulled herself out of bed, eyes at half-mast as she lifelessly went through her morning routine.
Forty-five minutes and half of a pot of coffee later, Sakura was making her way to work, praying that her shift would pass by quickly so that she could return home and catch up on some much-needed shut-eye.
It didn’t.
The early morning rush at the café had been exhausting. Sakura had the inkling that she wasn’t the only one affected by the unusual climate; patrons seemed more snappish and rushed than usual.
Uncharacteristically, Sakura found herself returning those barbed sentiments to the guests and barking at her co-worker when he got in her way while she was making an order.
The stress spread through her mind like ink on paper and Sakura was quickly caught up in the whirlwind that was the ‘rush hour’ for the eatery.
There was a tenseness in her muscles that made her movements almost robotic. Sakura walked around the coffee shop like she was a clockwork soldier, growing more and more frustrated when she completed an order incorrectly or happened to forget what she was doing mid-action. Her tired mind was unable to keep up with the chaos of it all.
When there was a lull in the number of customers, Sakura disappeared into the back room for a fifteen-minute break that was used to try and calm her erratic and irate demeanor. Though Sakura could still feel her anger simmering below the surface, churning violently in the pit of her stomach, sitting down with her eyes closed for those few stolen moments happened to be – to some extent – relaxing.
After her break had run its course, Sakura slipped back out into the front of the store.
She raised her shoulders, bouncing them with a little wiggle and lolled her head in a circle. It was a decent effort to try and help her further unwind before trying to finish off the remaining hours of her shift.
Kiba was in the middle of making a cappuccino, the man who had ordered the drink assessing the brunette’s work from his vantage point by the pick-up station at the opposite end of the counter. There was no one else waiting in the queue, and the pinkette was silently delighted by the fact that she wouldn’t have to greet a new guest so soon.
When the man left the shop, drink in hand, Sakura and Kiba shared a few idle comments, the later still a bit apprehensive about dealing with an incensed Sakura. She could see that he was walking on eggshells around her, and guilt embedded itself deep in her chest. To make it up to him, she offered to clean up around the café while he went on his break.
Needing no further enticement, Kiba dashed off to the back room while Sakura occupied herself with sanitizing one of the blenders they used for frozen drinks.
The bell above the door gave a soft chime a few seconds later, signaling someone new had walked in.
Immediately irritated that she would have to interact with someone, Sakura released in deep, ragged breath before putting the half-cleaned appliance down. She spun on her heel, approaching the cash register with a tense smile.
Clasping both of her hands together, she placed them on onto the countertop before stating her typical greeting, “Welcome to Roast Coffee House. How may I help you?”
Standing on the other side of the counter was a woman close to her age, chatting animatedly on her cell phone. The newcomer’s long, sandy blonde hair pulled back into a high ponytail and Sakura was nearly struck still by the vibrancy by the girl’s crystalline, sky-blue eyes that stared at a fixed point over Sakura’s left shoulder.
Any thoughts of admiration were soon tossed out the window, however, as Sakura came to realize that blonde wasn’t ending her phone call anytime soon.
She couldn’t tell if the woman didn’t hear her greeting, or just simply chose to ignore her. Either way, the foulness that had manifested in Sakura’s manner since early that morning was coming to the surface, and she grit her teeth, trying to keep herself in check.
As Sakura opened her mouth to address the woman for the second time, but the blonde raised the hand that wasn’t holding the cellular device, lifting her pointer finger towards the ceiling in a ‘just hold on a minute’ gesture.
Sakura was vaguely aware of her eyebrows disappearing into her hairline as her mind attempted to wrap itself around processing the new customer’s dismissive action.
Stuck somewhere between shock and irritation, Sakura fought down the urge to pluck the phone from the other woman’s grasp and throw it across the room. Alternatively, so that she wouldn’t have to pay for damaged property, Sakura just stared, unblinking, at the girl before her.
After another two minutes of listening to one side of the phone conversation, the new patron finally ended her call, pulling the device away from her ear and leveling her azure gaze on Sakura.
“Hi,” The girl greeted, tone significantly less cheery than it had been while on the phone. “I need a venti pumpkin spice latte with five shots of espresso, six pumps of pumpkin syrup, and two pumps of maple-pecan syrup. The name for the order is Ino.”
Instinctively, Sakura’s fingers began to type away on the computer used to create labels for the coffee orders, but about halfway through the fair-haired woman’s reiteration of what she wanted in her beverage, Sakura paused.
There was a drawn-out bout of silence where Sakura remained unmoving, looking at the other woman like she had sprouted a second head.
There was another pause before the rosette broke off their impromptu staring contest to slowly shift her gaze to the left, then to the right, looking around for something.
The woman - Ino - appeared confused as to why Sakura had barely even twitched, let alone start making her preferred drink.
“What?” Ino queried, lips thinned and brows furrowed. “Is there something wrong? What are you looking around for?”
When Sakura finally responded, it was in a curiously hesitant tone. “I’m looking around for game show host that’s going to pop out and tell me that I’m being punk’d.”
Her answer seemed to baffle Ino even further, so Sakura clarified by adding, “That order…you’re kidding…right?”
The blonde arched one expectant brow. “Excuse you? What’s wrong with my order?”
Something snapped, and in the back of Sakura’s mind, that boorish brashness reared its ugly head again. Her anger returned, mounting at full force and this time she didn’t do anything to stop it.
Accompanied with a scowl, the next few words were out of Sakura’s mouth in a hiss.
“Do we look like a Starbucks to you? It’s the middle of the summer. We don’t carry pumpkin spice all year round. That’s something reserved specifically for the fall season. Nor do we have anything in stock called ‘maple pecan syrup.’ Never have, and hopefully, never will.”
The woman on the other side of the counter placed her hands on her hips and narrowed blue eyes pierced Sakura with a particularly dour look.
“Well, no Starbucks barista would be caught dead in that hideous blue apron, so yes, I’m well aware of what coffee shop I entered,” Ino said, brusquely. “As for my order, I am dead serious. Could you possibly also add two pumps of ‘shut the fuck up and make my coffee’ as well?”
Sakura took a tiny step back, recoiling as if she had been physically struck.
Ino smugly smirked in triumph, tossing her long ponytail over her right shoulder.
It didn’t take long for Sakura to collect her bearings, and when she did, she slammed both palms down on the countertop, leaning dangerously close to the woman on the other side.
“Now listen here you little shi-,” Her words were cut off as Kiba appeared in the doorway that leads to the back room, black eyes fluctuating between the two females.
“Uh, is everything okay out here?” He asked. “I thought I heard yelling.”
Ino didn’t acknowledge the other coffee shop employee, keeping her hardened gaze leveled at Sakura.
Emerald eyes flicked in Kiba’s direction for no more than a second before settling back on the purple-clad blonde in front of her.
“The queen here placed a ridiculous order and expects us to bend over backward for her,” Sakura grumbled, twisting the small computer screen that was bolted onto the countertop in the brunette’s direction. “I mean, just look at it! Who needs five shots of espresso in their latte?!”
“I like to be energized for the entire day,” Ino explained with a sniff.
Sakura rolled her eyes skyward. “One, maybe two shots of espresso should be able to do that. Five is a bit excessive and is also teetering on the edge of caffeine dependency, your highness.”
Though she didn’t look in his direction, Sakura could feel when Kiba came to stand beside her, peering over her shoulder at the order on the cash register’s screen. He neither tried to intervene in the conflict nor remained at her side much longer, swiftly disappearing from of her line of sight.
Unperturbed by Kiba’s unwillingness to interfere and reluctant to lose any ground in this argument, Sakura suddenly snapped, “Speaking of incorrect seasons, who wears a crop top in the rain?”
Ino glanced down at the bold, purple half-shirt wrapped around her torso before looking up, giving Sakura a slow perusal from head to toe.
“It’s called fashion. Not that you would know anything about it.”
“It’s called being ridiculous,” Sakura snipped in response. “At least I dress appropriately for the weather.”
“Oh yeah,” Ino griped. “Appropriately enough to accentuate that large forehead of yours.”
Before Sakura could bounce back with another accurately worded verbal jab, Kiba appeared at the counter once again, holding out a sealed to-go coffee cup in Ino’s direction.
“We don’t have pumpkin spice, but I substituted it with french vanilla,” He explained calmly. “I used the same amount of espresso, but I added additional vanilla and caramel syrups to make it sweeter. I take it you add so much of that other stuff to try and drown out the bitterness of the espresso.”
Ino reluctantly reigned in her sneer, accepting the proffered caffeinated beverage with little enthusiasm.
“Thanks,” The blonde murmured, raising the drink to her lips to take a tentative sip. Seemingly satisfied with how her order turned out, Ino hummed in contentment. “It’s excellent, thank you. At least someone around here knows how to do their job.”
Kiba must have seen the murderous intent flash in Sakura’s eyes because he placed a restraining hand on her shoulder, squeezing slightly. Neither employee said another word, but Sakura moved to finish ringing up Ino’s order.
The faster they got her to pay, the faster the snarky girl would leave.
Sakura, so engrossed in making sure that she charged Ino for every damn penny her absurd order was worth, didn’t try to listen in on the indistinct conversation occurring between her coworker and infuriating blonde.
She did notice, however, when Kiba handed Ino a piece of paper and a pen upon her insistent request.
“Your order total comes to six dollars and fifty-eight cents,” Sakura mumbled, flashing a baleful tight-lipped smile in the other woman’s direction.
Ino made no move to pay, free hand jotting down something quick on the loose piece of paper.
When she was finished, Ino lifted her gaze in Sakura’s direction and said, “I, for one, think your attitude sucks, and you can bet your ass that I am never going to come back to this shop on one of your shifts.”
Sakura glared, civility forgotten. She bared her teeth as her hackles rose.
Her lips twisted then parted, ready to refute the other girl’s comment with a barked jab, but the words died on her tongue as Ino slid the folded piece of scrap paper across the counter in the pinkette’s direction.
“You’re cute when you’re mad,” Ino hummed offhandedly. “Your nose scrunches up, and you look like a pissed off kitten.”
Kiba snickered, trying to hide his humor behind the back of his hand and Sakura blindly reached out and smacked his bicep, refusing to take her eyes off of Ino.
The blonde continued her tirade with a conceited curl of her lips, “When you decide to dislodge that stick from your ass, give me a call. You probably look a hell of a lot prettier when you smile, and I’d like to see it for myself.”
Without another word, Ino turned in a flurry of yellow hair and left the café, the bell signaling her departure.
Neither employee said a word, and for the second time that day, Sakura found herself completely aghast, her mind racing.
Cautiously, she reached out and swiped the piece of paper off the counter in front of her, flipping it open to view a phone number written in neat feminine handwriting.
“Let me see if I got this right,” Kiba started slowly, breaking their shocked silence. He snatched the piece of paper from Sakura’s limp grasp so that he could confirm its contents. “Did you just get cursed out and then asked out in the same conversation?”
His statement was more of a question and Sakura chose to ignore it.
“My head hurts,” Sakura whined, bringing her hands to her temples so that she could massage them with small, methodic circular strokes.
There was another bout of stillness; Sakura trying to ignore the hot flush that suddenly rose to her cheeks while Kiba grumbled under his breath about the unfairness of it all.
“Wait a minute!” Sakura suddenly exclaimed in a high-pitched tone, dropping her hands as her eyes darted to the register. “She never paid for her coffee!”