Work Text:
“Your total is 400 yen.” The register beeps obnoxiously as the cash drawer slides open. A stack of paper bills is exchanged for a few coins and a single bill. “Have a nice day,” he greets them in a lukewarm tone. He bags the items on the counter and hands them over.
Tsukishima lets out a small groan when the customer leaves. Now, it’s just him in the expanse of the small convenience store. He glances at the clock plastered to the wall next to him, determining the time before his shift ends. The minute hand mocks him in its lethargic movements, coaxing another groan to fall from Tsukishima’s lips.
He will never understand how his mother saw this job as an opportunity, because it has been nothing but a pure waste of time. Few customers filter in and out during his shift, a majority of them being students from his school. Most recognize him, and most choose to not say a word to him. Tsukishima works hard, but not to shape his own reputation, because it’s a worthless title given by society. He has some idea of the weight his name carries due to the amount of looks he gets and the constant whispering behind his back, acting as though he can’t hear them.
It’s bothersome, Tsukishima thinks to himself, drumming his fingers on the counter. With nothing better to do, he steps away from the counter to wander through empty aisles. Not much needs to be stocked, because there’s not much business to begin with, other than the shelves that house sweets and snacks. Tsukishima makes a mental note to check their supplies later if they start to run low.
After he finishes his inspection of the store, he returns to his post at the counter, trying to find entertainment in his phone. Even then, every app he has barely manages to satiate his boredom. Tsukishima looks at the clock again, grimacing when barely thirty minutes have passed.
Tsukishima loses track of the time until he hears the chorus of voices outside, a sign of incoming customers. As he expects, the group enters the store within a few seconds, chattering at an even louder volume than before. He waves politely to the group of three, but only one returns to the gesture. The other two, sporting jet black and orange hair, quickly turn to the aisles in a search for what is most likely snacks. Tsukishima shrugs, mostly to himself, and returns to his phone.
He learns, in the next few minutes, that their voices are too lively for his own peaceful wants. One voice in particular, which he associates with the tangerine, bounces off the walls irritably and breaks any concentration Tsukishima once had in his game. The second loudest belongs to the jet black boy, who only seems to respond in aggravated words to the tangerine. The blond decides he does not like either of them. The third, the one who previously waved to him, has a softer, gentler voice that acts as mediator between the two. He doesn’t mind that one.
Orange boy is the first to the counter, clutching an array of snacks that makes Tsukishima’s own stomach churn. Tsukishima overlooks the sea of unhealthy treats to peek at the uniform he’s wearing. As he thought, they are students from his school, not that he especially cares; he’s never seen these people before.
Tsukishima notices the line behind unhealthy snacks boy and proceeds to process his total. He cocks a brow when the boy comes up short in cash, quickly borrowing a few from his friends behind him. Jet black boy growls something about paying him back, and it’s giving Tsukishima a headache. Tangerine boy takes off once his food is bagged.
Tightly pressed eyebrows hands over a granola bar. Tsukishima’s first thought is that this kid must be an athlete of some sort, because the protein snack offers nothing but vitamins, minerals and an awful aftertaste. He looks fit. His second customer quickly follows the first, and his last customer is the boy with a soothing air and tender gaze.
“Hello.” It’s been so long since a student’s greeted him first.
The cashier nods his hello and receives the item to charge, which happens to be a small cup of ramen. When he hands it back, his customer is still smiling at him without a care. Tsukishima’s slightly aware of his own intimidating reputation, and wonders why this boy doesn’t act differently in spite of it. It doesn't bother him for long.
“Have a nice day!” he calls back to Tsukishima as he leaves, and he determines that each star in his freckle constellation might equate to one act of kindness.
“Was that Tsukishima?” Tangerine mentions. His words are barely comprehended behind the full mouth of snacks stuffed in at once.
Jet black boy somehow understands him and relaxes his brows. “Yeah, it was.” he makes good use of the protein bar, facial expression hardly changing as he digs into it. “I saw him glaring at you a lot. What’d you do to piss him off?”
“Nothing! Are you sure he wasn’t glaring at you, Kageyama?”
“Positive he was looking at you.” He slips the wrapper into his pocket. “You were the only loud one among us.”
Kageyama’s about to brawl with the sunshine crested boy when the third boy intervenes. “Hinata, who is Tsukishima?” his cup of ramen sits idly in his backpack, which he’ll eat later.
“You don’t know him, Yamaguchi?” Yamaguchi shakes his head.
“Tsukishima, class 1-4,” Kageyama explains.
“A big jerk!” Hinata cuts in. He butts heads with Kageyama right after.
“How would you know that?” Yamaguchi innocently asks, trying to find the light in this conversation.
Hinata rubs at his pained forehead. “He once told me I was too loud. He said, and I quote, ‘My head will explode if you say another word.’” He can’t argue with the fit of giggles that follow.
“You forgot to mention that you were in the library,” Kageyama says, sneering.
“Shut up, Kageyama!” Hinata shouts once more before being chased down by the other boy. Yamaguchi chases after his friends, just for the fun of it, laughing all the while.
(Tsukishima seemed to remember his encounter with Hinata after the trio had left his store. His headache throbbed even more at the thought.)
Tsukishima doesn’t remember what encounters he’s had with with customers. However, he does remember a familiar chestnut antenna and galaxy of freckles when he crashes into the other boy. Papers fly everywhere, setting the scene for a very cliche shoujo manga.
“Are you okay?” his protagonist happens to be none other than ramen boy.
“Oh. Yeah, I’m fine, thanks.” Tsukishima exhales air he didn’t know he was holding in and stands up, dusting off his pants. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m quite fine,” Yamaguchi replies, worriedly picking up after the mess he made. Tsukishima picks up a stray paper and hands it over. “Thank you,” he says, beaming up at him. It's a little too warm.
“It’s fine,” Tsukishima avoids eye contact and starts to walk away, leaving behind a friendly reminder. “Just watch where you’re going next time.”
“You’re Tsukishima-kun, right? You work at that one store.” Yamaguchi’s following after him, peppering him with an energy he can’t reject.
“Yes,” he feels forced to answer. “I do.”
“That’s cool. How long have you been working? Is it fun?” Tsukishima merely shrugs in response.
“It’s boring, honestly,” he decides to admit. If he’s going to confide in someone, it can be him. From the moment he met him, his calming air was something he reveled in.
Yamaguchi’s walking next to him now, keeping pace with his long-legged steps. “Well, maybe I’ll come visit next time,” it’s an offer that causes something in his heart to curl.
Tsukishima doesn’t hold him to it, because he's not expecting anything out of it. “Suit yourself,” Yamaguchi makes an amused face at him and greets him goodbye. Tsukishima subtly notes the empty silence and drop in temperature after they’ve parted ways.
Tsukishima thinks that if he dusts any longer, he might start wearing away the paint. It’s normal, this kind of day, when he follows through the same loathsome routines that make the clock tick even slower. The most human interaction he’s had today adds up to three. All three were working adults, most likely on a business trip with the way they were murmuring to themselves about a conference in a nearby building. Once they left, he tries out the new game he downloaded on his phone. Although reviews suggested it was fun, he ends up closing his phone in boredom after ten minutes.
How boring.
Tsukishima’s savior happens to be Yamaguchi, who’s eagerly waving from outside the window after Tsukishima notices him. The doorbell hanging from the door rings cutely when he comes inside.
“Hello, Tsukishima-kun!” Although it doesn't show on his face, Tsukishima never expected him to keep his word.
“Hello.” He watches the boy wander through aisles, ultimately arriving at the counter with a cup of ramen. “I’d like this, please.”
Tsukishima processes the item. “The same flavor?” his customer nods and does not comment on his observation skills. “Okay. Same total as usual.”
“When does your shift end?” Yamaguchi slides over a bill. Tsukishima makes a face at the cash register as it once again churns annoyingly at him.
“In a few hours,” he hands over a bill and coins. As if to confirm, he glances back at the clock, “less than two hours,” he repeats.
“Cool! Do you have a microwave I can heat this up in? I’ll stay here and talk to you.” The cashier gestures to a microwave in the far back. “Thanks! I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
The familiar humming of the microwave fills the silence. Tsukishima shortly joins his customer at the microwave, ready to make the excuse that it's because he's bored. Yamaguchi does not prod.
“Don’t you get tired of eating this over and over?” he asks, watching the container spin slowly.
Yamaguchi looks up at him. “It's only my second time," he clarifies. "Also, not really. I’m used to eating stuff like this all the time.” Something about that phrase makes Tsukishima want to pinch at his forehead in frustration.
“It bothers me,” his irritation is quite obvious as he clicks his tongue. “Next time, try to get a different flavor. Or else we’ll run out,” he quickly adds. Does he sound like he cares?
“Okay,” Yamaguchi willingly agrees to follows his advice. Part of him especially likes the way Tsukishima says ‘next time’.
Yamaguchi's cup of ramen nearly burns his hand when he takes it out of the microwave, making a hissing noise as he makes contact with the container. He applies a gust of air, doing little to cool it down. Tsukishima smirks down at him.
"Try this," he cups the container with a plastic bag he brought from the counter. His hands immediately retract when he feels the heat bite at his skin. It's Yamaguchi's turn to smirk at him.
"Shut up," he says. Yamaguchi's solution to their heat issue is cupping the container with the fabric of his sweater, carrying it over to the table at the front of the convenience store. Tsukishima can't argue with this logical method. They both take a seat, Tsukishima claiming he's doing so because he 'has nothing better to do'. Yamaguchi giggles as he takes strands of noodles into his mouth, hissing immediately. 'Hot!' he cries out.
Tsukishima ignores the messy slurping of Yamaguchi while learning about him: firstly, his name.
"Eh, you didn't know?"
Tsukishima somehow feels guilty. "Sorry." Yamaguchi smiles at him with no worries and introduces himself, properly.
Tsukishima continues the introduction-to-Yamaguchi tutorial, learning about his class, his favorite color, and his favorite hobbies. He also learns that Yamaguchi wanted a small dog when he was little.
"Dogs poop everywhere," Tsukishima blatantly says, "your parents probably didn’t want to potty train two at the same time." Yamaguchi ends up inhaling a noodle while laughing at the funny unfunny joke. Somehow, it doesn’t bother the blond that much, and he's laughing right alongside the other boy.
Yamaguchi comes the next day, immediately switching from the beef to chicken flavor. Tsukishima looks pleased with himself when he charges the item.
"This isn't because of you, by the way," Yamaguchi says flatly. "I just wanted to switch things up." The cashier merely rolls his eyes and keeps his smug grin.
Again, they fall into their routine like the previous day. They talk, in between customers, when Tsukishima has to run back to the front counter. Conversation stretches through a mass of different subjects. They make amusing jokes and laugh until the sun dips below the horizon. Yamaguchi tells his new friend about the other two boys he was with the other day, describing how surprised they were when Yamaguchi told them he was talking to Tsukishima. This causes the blond to initially frown, asking the depth of his reputation.
"As far as I know, you don't seem like a bad person. In fact, the more we talk, the more I know you're actually a nice person. Like a big tough softie."
"That's an awful comparison," Tsukishima intervenes.
"Now, now, that's just how I feel about you," Yamaguchi points his chopstick at him as a threat. 'Deal with it,' and Tsukishima Kei just deals with it.
The moon claims the sky as they finally decide to part ways. Tsukishima waves Yamaguchi off as though it were natural, even if their first meeting was less than a week ago.
“Oh, by the way, Tsukki,” the name rolls off his tongue like honey, “where do you live? Not to sound weird, or anything.”
Tsukishima scoffs. “Down that street,” he gestures. Yamaguchi’s expression lights up in excitement.
“Then! We can walk to school together, since I live that way too. Of course, that’s only if you want to, don't feel forced to—”
“Sure,” he interrupts the frantically-made suggestion. “I wouldn’t mind.” A wave of relief washes over the boy’s expression.
Yamaguchi runs off into the night with a smile on his face. “See you in the morning then, Tsukki!”
Tsukishima would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it. Next time, next time, he'll consider buying a bento for the boy.
"Life isn't so boring now," he sighs wistfully into the night sky.