Chapter Text
and its owner have not installed the sound system yet. It is the second day since they first open for business and costumers are scarce. The silence that is cut by the hum of the air conditioner kills the mood. He would have preferred soft jazz, calm instrumentals, or the satisfying ding of his old-school cash register every time he makes a sale. Otherwise, he is forever haunted by the click-clacking of invisible keyboards and faint shouting of deranged people behind the glass wall that overlooked the trading floor from the early days of his old job. Once a beast in the zoo, he never really left. The caged animal noises follow him wherever his quiet is, and with them the restlessness of not having done enough. Ten years of selling his soul for the altar of capitalism is not even half of a normal working class person’s lifetime of work. He was lucky, but his luck has run dry.
The outside of the bakery that he named, with a stroke of dry humour, Bakery, is coated with fresh blue paint that covered its European style storefront. It stands out in a neighbourhood that consist mostly of brown wood and stone walls. A slice of Paris in Suburban Tokyo, a sore thumb. The orphanage itself hides behind an intimidatingly huge and tall black metal wall that serves as their entrance, exuding a terrible aura. If not for the gold lettering on the side of it that spells: Jujutsu Foundation – Public School and Orphanage, innocent passerbys would mistake it for a prison. The ill-fated name of the educational institution that overlooks his place of business is surely a bad omen. School usually means sale, but it is in the middle of the summer vacation and the street is entirely too quiet because of the heat. Indeed, his luck has gone steadily to the devils since he spent almost all the money he inherited from his grandfather for this modest property in a nondescript corner of Nowhere, Tokyo.
Six months ago, he was called to Copenhagen to attend his maternal grandfather funeral. Being the only reliable grandson in his eccentric family, he came back to Japan with an outrageous amount of krone in his bank account. Recognising a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, he quit his job at the stock market, exchanged all the money into yen, and intended to live his retirement dream early: opening a bakery, work the oven until he drops dead at 70 years old from either lung cancer or liver disease, and never talk to an accountant ever again. He can do all his taxes himself, so it is perfect.
If everything went his way, he would have been in the kitchen right now, making disgustingly sweet petit fours for his own peace of mind. Then, he would move on to trying out new pastry recipes. After that, probably making a case-croute for lunch. However, his distant cousin, Sakura, had to call in sick on her second day of work, and he must tend the store himself today.
That is why Nanami Kento, 32 years old, 184 cm tall, is sitting on the stool behind the cashier, wearing an apron over his crisp white shirt with its collar unbuttoned, holding a cheap paperback novel, rimless reading glasses perched on his nose, wishing for anyone to walk into this cage he trapped himself in—for the second time, a golden cage is still a cage—and free him from his boredom.
1. Pain au Chocolat
His wish manifests itself in the form of a group of dirty children who comes into view in front of the store’s display window. Three boys, one of them looking particularly roughened, and a crying girl. Interestingly, two of the boys are identical twins with weird pink hair—one being the ruffled-looking young man. The other boy is no less dirty than the others, but he is the responsible one as far as Nanami can tell. The four of them are having a sort of an argument, complete with yelling and wailing. While the cleaner pink-haired boy wave his hands in front of his clearly angry brother to subdue him, the dark-haired boy who needs a haircut suddenly turn his head and meet Nanami’s eyes through the bakery’s window. Tilting his head to the side at the man’s unamused face, the boy then look back to his friends to say something. In no time at all, he steps into the store and walks to the front of the cashier, staring up at Nanami with the sternest face the man had ever seen on an elementary school boy.
The boy reaches into his pocket and pulls out a 100-yen coin. Frowning, he put it on the counter. “What can I buy with this?”
“Nothing.” Nanami says with no mercy.
“I can pay more, but this is an emergency, and my savings are in my room.” The boy is adamant.
“Why is it an emergency?”
“Nobara hit a boy in the park because he was mocking us for being orphans.” He explains matter-of-factly. “The boy’s mother then scolded her, even though it was not her fault. Then, Sukuna kicked the boy’s mother’s leg until she fell on her butt.”
Nanami wants to laugh, but he has forgotten how, so he just curves the corner of his mouth into something resembling a smile.
“We had to run away. Nobara is crying because she is still angry. Sukuna is also angry. We’re all starving because we ran so far, and dinner is still hours away.” He points at a basket of pain au chocolat. “I will pay for them later if you let me go into the orphanage to get the money under my bed.”
“You put money under your bed.”
“Yes, I’m saving for med school.”
“How old are you, again?”
“Eight.” His frown deepens adorably. “Please, will you let me get the bread for my friends first?”
Nanami pretends to consider for a while as the boy becomes increasingly antsy. He then takes a paper bag and put four of the chocolate pastries inside, rolling the top neatly. “You don’t need to pay for this one but bring enough money if you want more. Understand?”
The boy looks at him with suspicious eyes. “What do I have to do for this?”
“Nothing.” Nanami shrugs. “This is a reward for kicking the bully’s mother until she falls on her butt.”
He can tell the boy still does not trust him, but he takes the bag anyway.
“Don’t just put the money under your bed, get a box with a lock. And do not use it for something trivial like this, ask for pocket money from your caretaker.”
“Sensei is in a business trip in Kyoto, so we can’t ask him for money.” The boy’s frown has returned. “Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t mention it.” Nanami settles back into the terrible mystery novel he is reading.
The boy runs out the store, back to his friends. When Nanami looks up, he sees the four of them stuffing their mouths with pastries, content. The crying girl has quieted, even though now she is self-conscious because of her swollen eyes. She keeps wiping them while eating, smearing chocolate on her cheeks. The angry pink-haired boy is talking to the dark-haired boy more calmly, no longer shouting. Meanwhile, the other pink-haired boy has sported a smile that seems too big for his face. Nanami sees them all now—the responsible future doctor, the happiest boy, the angry ruffian, and the prideful little girl. Four orphans who has nothing but each other and their distant dreams.
Nanami enjoys the thought of them sticking together through life, not letting go of the precious bond they have now. He feels strangely happy. Maybe his luck is changing soon.
2. Beignet
It is their fifth day. Ever since Sakura came back to work and insisted on making an Instagram account for the bakery, customers have been steadily pouring in. Nanami’s gamble to open a bakery in an area where there is no competitor in a ten-kilometre radius is paying off. And now that Sakura has returned, he can hide in the kitchen all day—except in the brunch hour of the morning and late afternoon, the busiest time for the bakery, and on Sakura’s lunch break.
The girl had graduated high school with no plans of going into college right away, and her parents are worried. They asked Nanami to take her in as an employee for a while and teach her something, baking at least. She is a decent baker, Nanami admitted, but he can see that her interest lies in something completely different, judging by how fast she adjusted the interior design of the bakery to be more ‘Instagramable’.
She has been pestering him to be the model for the bakery’s Instagram account. An idea that he hates so much, it makes him ruin an entire batch of beignet by adding way too much powdered sugar on top that no one can tell whether they were pastries or donuts. He is terribly precise when it comes to his creations, and he hates himself for being so anal about it, but he will not do it any other way. The terrible beignets will have to go down the trash.
“You are a young, attractive woman.” Nanami gathers the beignets and is about to chuck them into the bin. “You will bring in more customers. Nobody wants to see a sad middle-aged man kneading dough.”
“You’re absolutely wrong.” Sakura wrestles the panful of beignet from him. “It will be amiss if we neglect the demography who enjoys seeing a middle-aged man kneading dough.”
Folding his arms, Nanami sighs in defeat. “Fine. But I will not pose.”
His mischievous cousin grins. “Just pretend the camera isn’t there!”
“Give me the garbage beignets.”
“They’re perfectly edible! Let’s just sell them for half-price.”
“They weren’t meant to be sold in the first place. I’m just experimenting.”
“But—”
Sakura’s words are interrupted by the bakery door opening. The children from last week are back. The happy pink-haired boy and the girl who no longer cried exclaimed in delight at the sight of sweets in the cooler. They run to see it closer, leaving the brooding pink-haired boy and the future doctor boy near the entrance.
“Ah! Welcome!” Still holding the beignets, Sakura approaches the two kids who are now smushing their faces on the cooler’s glass, smudging it with their hands and noses.
Meanwhile, the other two approaches Nanami who is wiping the traces of sugar from the counter.
“This time, we bring money.” The future doctor boy dumps a pile of money on the spot Nanami just wiped.
“Whose money is it?” Unperturbed, the baker continues to wipe around the pile.
“Our sensei’s. He said we can buy enough for all of us and the teachers.”
“Sensei will finish the rest himself.” The brooding one scoffs.
“Yes, but that’s what he wanted us to say to the bakery ojisan, Sukuna-chan.”
Sukuna-chan makes a face at his friend’s relatively relaxed scolding.
Nanami has finished cleaning up and starts counting the money pile. “What are your names?”
“Why do you want to know?” Sukuna-chan seems to possess a truly short fuse.
“Because we’re neighbours, and we have to call each other something if we’re going to keep meeting like this.” Nanami points at himself. “Nanami-san, not bakery ojisan.”
The dark-haired boy points at himself and the brooding one. “Megumi and Sukuna.” Then at the two kids talking excitedly with Sakura. “Yuuji and Nobara.”
“Alright, Megumi-kun. Make your choices and I will wrap them up for you.”
Yuuji and Nobara yells their chosen treats while Sukuna stays silent. In the end, they buy a good number of sweet pastries and cakes. Megumi insists that it is only because their sensei is a sweet tooth even though he saw Sukuna sneaking a hungry look at the petit fours and Nanami knows the boy also chooses them for his grumpy friend. When wrapping their purchases, Sakura insists that Nanami should include the extra-sugary beignets for free. He complies because he is just too tired to argue about it.
As the children are about to go back to the orphanage, Nanami sees Nobara holding a smartphone and Sakura leaning over her, discussing something.
“Are you children even old enough to have your own phones?”
“It’s only used for emergencies and we only have one for the four of us.” Megumi-kun quips. “Sensei let us fill it with games and apps, and every day we take turns holding it. Today is No-chan’s turn. Don’t tell anyone else from the orphanage, though.”
“Why are you telling me, then?”
“You’re okay. You gave us free bread.” Megumi-kun deadpans. By now Nanami is sure that the boy is way older than he looks.
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The day after the children’s return, Nanami meets the infamous sensei and for the first time in six months, which is a record for him, he is contemplating murder.
The man does not look like a normal person. All the hair on his head is snow-white clear and he is wearing sunglasses that practically screams ‘I’m hip!’ He sports a loosely fitting, long-sleeved black t-shirt in the middle of a scorching hot summer afternoon and does not look bothered by the heat at all. He has been creepily looking into the store from the front display window, and when he sees Nanami, he makes a comical gasping face.
The man hurriedly enters the store and shoves his finger in front of Nanami’s nose. “It’s you! You really are the guy who’s been featured in the @hotsuburbanbakerdaddy Instagram!”
Nanami feels all his blood rising to his head. He shoots a deadly look at Sakura who is nervously sweeping the floor on the corner. She will take responsibility for this, one way or another.
“Woah.” The ice blond man is gaping at him like an idiot. “You are way hotter in real life.”
“Excuse me,” Nanami is close to bursting. “But are you going to buy something or not.”
“Of course, I am!” The infuriating man snaps his finger and leans forward with his elbows on the counter. “I want five kare pan to-go and you to go on a date with me!”
The question is who is going to finally send him to jail first. This annoying jerk, or his deceitful cousin?