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Kyouka was just supposed to go to the mall to get a few snacks for her bandmates, and she couldn’t really explain how she came back to their practice room empty-handed. The one thing she came back with was someone’s phone number.
It was supposed to be just another typical run to the mall. A few coin tosses, rounds of rock paper scissors, and a victim. A long list of desired drinks and snacks and another victim’s credit card pressed firmly into their hands. A 30-minute operation, in and out of the mall, tops. It was common for some of the members to get distracted, take around 40 and 50 minutes and come back with a mountain full of snacks.
Not completely knowledgeable of the mall’s layout, Kyouka stumbled into an unoccupied cafe, where only the two baristas talked amongst each other. A little out of breath, Kyouka walked up to the counter.
“Hey, do you know where the big mart here is? I’m kinda lost.”
The barista behind the counter jumped, fluttering into action. She took out the pen that was tucked behind her ear, looking like she was about to write down Kyouka’s nonexistent order. Her tight ponytail loosened the slightest bit, and wavy curls fell to her shoulder when she whipped around so quickly.
“She’s asking for directions, Momo,” the other barista said quietly, before disappearing into the back room. Momo’s cheek flushed, and she put down the pen on the counter.
“I’m sorry?”
“The mart,” Kyouka repeated, scanning the girl’s confused face. “I’m looking for the mart in the mall. It would be, uh, great if you could point me in the right direction.”
She was pretty, and Kyouka momentarily forgot what she was here for in the first place. Red lipstick without a smudge in sight, a slightly messy high ponytail with bangs that framed her face just so. Her name tag read ‘Momo’, written in gold cursive.
“I apologize, I’m pretty new to the mall myself,” Momo laughed awkwardly, gesturing to the ‘In Training’ pin on her dress. “I think it’s somewhere on the second floor, though? Next to the food court.”
“Next to the food court! Third floor!” the other barista yelled from the back room.
Kyouka cursed under her breath. She was currently on the first floor, and she didn’t really want to go all the way to the third floor to get snacks for her friends, regardless of how much she loved them. “Thanks, but uh, on that note, can I get an iced coffee? Black, please.”
“Oh!” Momo picks up the pen again, a small smile to her lips. “Of course!”
Kyouka sat down at one of the tables nearby, and occupies herself by observing Momo. She seems a little lost, eyes widening the slightest bit when something crashes to the ground.
“You good there?” Kyouka called out for no reason at all.
“Mhm!”
A few minutes passed and Momo came by to her table, coffee and a plate of cake in tow.
“Oh, I didn’t—”
“A gift,” Momo smiled, “you seem like a coffee cake person.”
Kyouka laughed, “And you would be right.” She noticed something on the coffee cup from the corner of her eye. “Did you just draw this?”
Clean pen strokes, not even shaking went they went over the ridges of the cup. A clear picture of Kyouka just a few seconds ago, sitting at the table.
“Oh god, I should’ve asked for your permission to draw you, I’m so sorry.”
“No!” Kyouka said abruptly. “No, it’s totally fine. This is actually really cute. No one has really drawn me like this, at least not this well.”
Momo laughed, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “It’s just a little habit of mine. I’m actually an arts student, so I like to practice by drawing customers.”
“Oh shit, really? I’m kinda an artist as well! Well, a musical artist, but I guess that still counts,” Kyouka commented as they proceeded to take a photo of the drawing. She looked so at peace, and she wondered if this was how other people viewed her. Or maybe it was just Momo, who carried around the feeling of comfort or peace. Maybe it was because she smelled like vanilla and cinnamon.
“Really? Are you in a band?”
What was supposed to be a short mall trip had turned into a proper conversation. The cafe was mostly empty, and the few customers that trickled in were taken care of by the other barista, who didn’t seem to mind the two girls’ conversation. They talked; about music, art, museums, instruments, and about anything or nothing at all.
Kyouka checked the time, and by extension, the many missed calls and unread messages her friends had sent. “Oh, fuck, I gotta go.”
Momo frowned, “I’m sorry, I probably kept you here longer than I should’ve.”
“No, not at all! It was a nice break from all the chaos. Actually, could I borrow that pen of yours?”
Fingers brushing against each other, a scrap piece of tissue paper, and a number.
“We’re performing at a gig in a few days, if you’re free you should come over! We can, uh, talk more too, if you want.”
“I would like that.”
“Let me get this straight,” Katsuki sighed. “You forgot to get snacks because you got distracted by a pretty barista and proceeded to talk for an hour and ignore all of our calls and messages?”
“Yes. Now shut up.”
"I don’t know if I should be impressed that you’re finally talking to people, or incredibly disappointed that you didn’t get my favourite chips that were on sale,” Denki chortled from the couch.
“Fuck off!”