Work Text:
Even though he works in a late night cafe, he's always a bit surprised that anyone comes in at odd hours.
Maybe it's a bit selfish - he's quite happy to man the place largely alone, and get his studying done - but he also tries to think about what is happening in their life that they want or need to come to a cafe at eight or ten at night. That is to say, he's always trying to figure out their story as soon as they walk in. Sometimes easier than others: some nip in for a specific coffee, a random craving they wanted fulfilling. Some sit with friends - unwilling to part after a good day. Some sit on their phone - waiting for a train. The occasional one brings work.
The newest customer is someone he's never seen before. Even though to describe him would make him sound plain, somehow he stands out: a pretty face framed with unruly black hair, glasses perched precariously on his nose, bags underneath his eyes. He's got a long coat on over a suit, faintly scuffed black work shoes. Everything should be average, but somehow it all pulls together into something more than average. Akinori is intrigued, but most customers don't stick around at this time of day.
He approaches the counter looking somewhat harried.
"How can I help you?" Akinori asks, hiding his study book with practiced ease as he hops off the stool he shifted from the window seats. No one has to know.
The stranger looks over at him, a sheen of panic to his eyes making him look faintly crazed. Akinori would guess… a several shot espresso drink. Maybe some syrups.
"Four shots in one cup, please, topped up with hot milk. I'll have chocolate on the top."
Now that's one hell of a deadline. And not his first, considering the ease of delivery of that order.
"Are you sure? That's a lot of caffeine…" Akinori asks, mostly just to say that he did question it. He doesn't really want any heart attacks on his account. The stranger sighs.
"I dislike energy drinks," he retorts, just about managing to sound polite. Sort of. Akinori shrugs slightly.
"Okay, can do, if you promise not to keel over. Anything to eat?"
He looks at the cakes as if not having even considered that they would exist at a cafe.
"An apple muffin, please." Simple. At least he's having something with the palpitations-in-a-cup. Akinori nods, plating it up and pushing it over the counter.
“That’s… hm, four espressos, that’ll be Y2000, then.” The man hums, in some sort of mild surprise. Akinori raises an eyebrow.
“That’s cheaper than I was expecting. For Tokyo,” he adds, seeing Akinori eye the screen. He’s put through much, much cheaper coffee orders today. Maybe he doesn’t get this liquid heart attack too often.
“Are you sure you want four espressos in one cup?” he enquires again. The man laughs faintly.
“If it would make you feel better, you could give me four espressos in four separate cups. I’ll still drink them all together. In one cup it makes mixing it with milk easier, doesn’t it?”
Akinori surmises the man is probably not right of mind, but then, he also looks to do work at a cafe at ten at night. Is anyone in Tokyo really right of mind, anyway? Particularly the working population. Akinori accedes the point, shrugging. “I’ll bring it over when it’s done, sit wherever.”
His manager would probably scold him for such casual language, but people at this time of day - and requiring so many espressos - don’t really seem to care either way. He half expects the man to tell him he’s not staying, perhaps going back to work, but he turns, surveying all of the tables, and ends up picking a booth at the back of the small cafe. He pulls out a small laptop and a large notepad and sets to work, Akinori observes whilst making the unholy caffeinated devil cup. Since he has to run the machine twice, it takes a little while; the man is thoroughly engrossed in his work when Akinori eventually saunters over, having seemed to completely blank out the noise of the coffee machine and steaming the milk.
Seeing as he’s sitting in, Akinori elects to put it into a big mug instead of a takeaway cup. He always thinks they taste better in ceramic. If he’d not been putting chocolate on the top, the man could maybe have appreciated his milk art a little better - although with four shots in there, it wasn’t so much of a pattern. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing it’s hidden.
Bored, Akinori fusses about getting a coaster, taking the opportunity to look over the man’s work. Some kind of editing, he thinks - whatever it is, the man only really notices him, or chooses to notice, when Akinori puts the cup down.
“Thank you,” he murmurs gratefully, immediately picking it up and taking a sip. He winces slightly.
“If you have a heart attack, I wasn’t culpable,” Akinori remarks. The man laughs.
“I won’t. Tell the truth, it’s bitter, but some nights, needs must…”
“I’ll put more chocolate on next time, then. We have several syrups, too.” Assuming he even returns. On one hand, it sounds like he’s been here a while, and on the other, it sounds like he’s not been here that long. The people that sit down to work do tend to frequent the same cafes more often than not once they’ve found one they like. Something about this man intrigues Akinori, for no real reason, so he hopes that he does like it.
“It’ll help keep me awake, but thank you.”
“Okay, well. Let me know if you need anything. Music up, down, changed, a poke if you look too sleepy?” He means it in jest, but the man nods seriously.
“It’s near the deadline, I would appreciate that.”
Poor guy. Akinori leaves him to it for his own studying, although he keeps looking over at the man. The coffee must work, as Akinori only has to poke him at midnight, and that’s more because he’s closing up than anything else. Akinori mentions a 24-hour internet cafe around the corner - the coffee is terrible, but it’s at least open - and the man disappears by the time he’s cleared the final things up.
He hopes he’ll be back.
Four days later, Akinori is scratching his head over pharmacodynamics when the door opens, and looking up, he’s greeted by the same man, looking no less harried or tired.
"Welcome back," Akinori calls, at which the man looks at him, a bit shocked.
"I wasn't aware I was particularly memorable," he returns as he shuffles over to the counter, exhaustion clear in his stance. Akinori hums in disagreement.
"Anyone who orders more than two shots in one cup is pretty memorable, but we don't really get that many customers after seven, you know?"
"How do you stay open at this time if that's the case?" The man replies idly, looking over the selection of cakes. Akinori shrugs, watching his eyes stop on nothing in particular, glazing over. It reminds him of himself during exams. Last time he'd said it was close to a deadline, but he still looks that way, and Akinori doubts he's here for a hot chocolate to go, not with his laptop bag.
"Clearly we get just enough people that it's worth it. Like you, for example." The man looks at him for a moment as though the words haven't gone in, like he heard them but they didn't get through to making sense. "Are… you alright?"
The man stops for a long moment after his words, basically affirming that he isn’t really alright, but eventually he shakes himself back to the present and nods anyway. “Ah, yes. Just a little tired.” Akinori would say a lot tired, but he’s not here to judge. Although he does a bit. Often. “In any case, I think I’d like…” Akinori watches sluggish mental calculations go on in his mind. “Five espresso shots in one cup, please.”
Akinori should not be surprised by this, but somehow he is. “Five.” The man nods earnestly. “I feel like that’s more than I’m meant to give someone at once…”
“You gave me four the other day,” the man points out.
“Yeah, but five is… a lot of caffeine. And you said it was too bitter, anyway.”
“It’s no more than some energy drinks you can get in every shop.”
Akinori can already tell he’s not going to win this one. Either this man walks out of the shop and gets it elsewhere, stomachs an energy drink, or – Akinori’s preference – decides to have a hot chocolate and get some damn sleep. Seeing as the latter just isn’t going to happen, he gives in. “I’m only first aid trained for cuts and actual CPR. Don’t make me use my tiny amount of knowledge.”
“I’m rather hoping that you don’t need it. I’m used to this much.” Akinori wants to shoot back that he really shouldn’t be, that caffeine doesn’t actually even make you less tired but makes you able to ignore the effects more, and one day, it will come back to bite him… but this is also the second time he’s ever met this guy. He’s a barista at the end of the day, and a part time one at that, so he’s only really trained to dispense coffee, not life advice, however direly needed.
“Yeah. Was CPR thirty and two, or two and thirty?” he jests, flashing a cheeky grin at the man, and picking up a mug. “And can I have a name for that order? Just in case it might get into the hands of one of our other, less caffeine-tolerant customers?”
The man looks around the shop, notably empty. Akinori thought it was worth a shot. Some customers have name badges, dropping in at the start of long shifts at a nearby convenience store and craving something better than canned coffee, but most don’t, and tend to get monikers if they visit enough.
“Akaashi. Akaashi Keiji. We can’t be too careful.” There’s a tiny hint of a smile there, something Akinori will take as a win.
“I’ll bring it over when it’s done, Akaashi-san,” he returns.
“I’ll look forward to it…” Akaashi peers over to catch the hiragana on his name badge. “Konoha-san. I trust you shan’t lose me in the crowd?”
Akinori grins, already wanting to put a free cake in with the order. “I wouldn’t dare.”
So it goes on. Akaashi comes in several times a week, they have a small conversation, Akaashi orders something insane between three and five shots of coffee, Akinori does some nice milk art or slips him a cake or puts some syrup into the coffee, and Akaashi works until closing time. Akinori reluctantly kicks him out, and hopes he’ll survive until next time. Although the only way he would even know is by him coming in after eight o’clock – even if he quit his job or moved elsewhere, Akinori wouldn’t even know.
Weirdly, that makes him sad. He’s grown fond of – and increasingly worried for – Akaashi. Equally, he’s only a barista, so it’s not like he has any impact on Akaashi’s life, no matter how much he wants him to see how much he’s being ground into the dirt. His suit is hanging off him more than it was the first time he came in, his cheeks becoming ever more sallow. He’s literally working himself to death and he doesn’t seem to see it, and Akinori doesn’t even know how to say it, never mind get through to him.
In gaps between studying, he tries to think of solutions, but people don’t tend to react kindly to relative strangers barging in on their lives. There must be a reason why Akaashi is doing this, surely. He seems reasonably sensible aside from that, so it just seems odd. Nonetheless, Akinori is ill-placed to solve his problems, so he shuts up, and tries to study instead of endlessly thinking about the issue.
Things somewhat accidentally change one night, about a month or so after Akaashi first came in, when he loses track of the time.
“Ah, do-” Akaashi starts, hesitantly. Akinori twitches, having not even noticed him approach the counter, and slams the book shut. Damn. Hopefully he can find his place later. “Apologies for startling you, I just wondered if you knew anywhere else I could work at this hour?”
Spotting the time, nearing 12 o’clock, Akinori hums to himself, tapping his foot in thought. “Well, there’s the internet cafe down the road…”
“It’s a little loud for work, sadly,” Akaashi says, honestly sounding irritated with that option not being suitable.
“Can’t you work in your office?” It’s a question that’s puzzled him for a while, after all - don’t these salarymen usually stay for hours until the last train, then rush home for hints of sleep? Akaashi shakes his head though.
“They lock the office at eight o’clock, and I don’t have keys. Apparently, it’s to reduce the energy bills,” Akaashi murmurs.
“Well, I guess there are always hotels, although you might look odd going into one of them on your own.”
“Once or twice might be alright, but it’s an expense I can’t really afford…” It looks as though it pains him to say it. Akinori pauses for a moment, wondering if saying anything would be going a bit far, for a customer and barista, but then… he’s started to get genuinely concerned about Akaashi’s well-being. He’s in here too often, for too long. Editing deadlines shouldn’t be so often, right?
“You know, forgive me for asking, but is this job really worth it?” Akaashi looks at him akin to a deer looking at the headlights of an oncoming car. “I mean, I’m not properly employed yet and all, and I know there’s a culture of working hard and stuff, but you come in here, order your insane coffees late at night, work until we close, then you go somewhere else to keep working. When do you even sleep?”
Akaashi opens his mouth, then closes it. Then repeats that. Then looks down at his feet.
“I sleep on the weekends…” he admits, quietly.
“Weekends should be for living your life, not passing out to recover from being ground into the dust every day!” Akinori snaps. He’s not quite sure why it gets to him so much, what it is about this particular late night customer when he’s had others do the same. But in the headlines he sees people dying of overwork, getting so tired they fall onto railway tracks or in front of cars, drinking themselves to death to drown their sorrows, and worse. Maybe Akaashi thinks he’s doing his best, but for what? An early death?
Akaashi honestly looks flabbergasted. Akinori sighs heavily, not even bothering to try and retain it. Akaashi doesn’t even really feel like a customer anymore, maybe like a classmate he’s watching suffer and can do very little about.
“Sorry, I’m not here to criticise your life, I’m just… concerned.” Concerned seems a safe enough word for emotions he’s not quite ready to parse just yet. “I feel like your flat must be not great if you come to cafes and such instead of there. If you want, you can stay over at mine. If you really have to work, you can, but I’d rather you didn’t.”
Akaashi drops his gaze to the counter, watching the last slice of coffee cake like it holds the secrets to the universe, and stays like that for a while. Just when Akinori is getting shifty and about to retract his offer, Akaashi nods.
“My flat is above a nightclub,” he states, in way of agreeing to the offer. Akinori smiles, weirdly triumphant.
“Right. I’ll finish up here in a bit, and we can go.” He notices Akaashi looking at that slice of cake again, and makes a decision. “Tell you what,” he starts, deftly scooping the cake onto a plate, “I think you need it. Have it, it’ll only go to waste.” He holds it out to Akaashi, who blinks, then just slightly smiles.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, sounding far too grateful for one slice of cake. Akinori nods.
It’s been a long while since he’s had anyone around, really, between work and university, and he belatedly recalls that it’s probably a bit of a tip, but hey. At least he did the sheets last week. Besides, Akaashi seems in such dire need of quiet rest that it probably doesn’t matter so much.
Worse, he has to rummage around to find two matching slippers, something he doesn’t relish doing after having to walk up six flights of stairs because someone managed to break the lift today. How, he’s not sure - it was working this morning - and keeps an ear out for Akaashi’s footsteps behind him on the way up.
Finally finding one that matches, ones with some character on them that his sister got him as a joke, he triumphantly puts them down on the mat in front of Akaashi’s feet and straightens up.
“Knew I had a pair somewhere. Although if you just want to wear your socks, that’s fine…”
“Thank you again, Konoha-san,” Akaashi mumbles, wearily removing his shoes and toeing on the slippers.
This close, Akaashi really does look tired. His skin has a pallid undertone, bags under his eyes grey with exhaustion, and there’s a dead look to his eyes like he’s glazing over. Akinori feels no further regrets about stepping over the line with his queries; Akaashi doesn’t look like he’ll physically last much longer.
“Uh, do you want a drink or something, or you wanna brush your teeth or…?” Akinori asks, stepping backwards as he becomes conscious that he’s a bit too close.
Akaashi doesn't seem to notice; his eyes flutter shut briefly, and he stumbles forwards. He doesn't fall, possibly only because Akinori is there to stop him, but he comes to swiftly, and smiles sheepishly at Akinori as he steps back.
"Yeah, let's just get you to bed," he remarks, Akaashi wringing his hands before him.
"Sorry," he murmurs. Akinori just nods, withholding the scathing remarks about the state he's in and the reason for that, and instead leads him to the bedroom, or rather, the bed area of the open-plan living space.
“I’m going to guess you don’t have any clothes with you, so…” he remarks partly to himself.
“I’ll just sleep in this,” Akaashi replies; he’s wearing the usual cheap suit, although he’s foregone the tie. Akinori tuts, rummaging in his drawers for something suitable.
“It might be a bit big, but you can wear these if you’d prefer. It’ll probably be more comfortable.” It's just one of his old high school volleyball tops and some shorts, but Akaashi stares at them for a good second.
"You play volleyball?" He asks, at which Konoha nods. "Which-"
"We can chat when you've had some sleep. Sorry and all that. I feel like you're gonna collapse any second," he interrupts, feeling a little bad when Akaashi looks down, but it's also late, and he wants to sleep as well. "Tomorrow. Or, later today, I guess…"
Akaashi snorts, but takes the clothes from him. After a small token fuss about taking his bed, he seems to go to sleep before he even fully lies down. Akinori snorts quietly - was this man seriously intending to keep working? - and gets himself ready for bed. Honestly, he's not far behind.
It takes him a moment in the morning, the feel of things just slightly lower than usual, the dim morning light subtly different, that he starts to recall why he's sleeping on the futon.
Glancing over, Akaashi is thankfully still there. Still dead to the world, such that Akinori takes a moment to check that he's just asleep, but the faint rise of his chest belies that he's okay.
Akinori elects to just bumble quietly around the apartment making breakfast, putting the rice cooker on and grilling some fish to go with it, thinking the smell might rouse Akaashi, but it doesn't. That done and tidied away, he elects to study instead. He does have some lectures today, but he texts his friends to excuse him, saying that he's unwell. He's not quite sure how to explain a man in his bed in any way that won't raise eyebrows in one way or another, so he omits that, and just asks to see their notes later.
A few minutes after that, a phone rings. Not Akinori's - the sound resonating from Akaashi's bag, he retrieves it with the honest intention of just quieting it down, before he sees the contact. Someone from work, Honda-san. Frowning, he steps into the bathroom and answers the call.
“Akaashi-san? You're late,” a voice states curtly from the receiver. Akinori scowls at it.
"Well, I'm not Akaashi, but I'll talk in his place. He's not well."
Technically, he's not telling a lie. Anyone could see that Akaashi was a dead man walking, to excuse the phrase. The man on the other end of the line clicks his tongue.
”He ought to have phoned in, then. I need to speak to him."
Yeah, Akinori now really wants to tell Akaashi to quit and never return.
"He's not well, so you can't. Leave a text, he'll get back to you when he's feeling better." Or hopefully, never.
"It's urgent, please give him the phone. How do I even know he's there and you haven't stolen the phone?"
"Well, I dunno about you, but I wouldn't want puke all over the office. I've seen how hard he works, he needs to rest. I'm not answering any more calls."
And he hangs up, a vindictive glee as the irritated voice gets cut off mid-sentence. Silencing the phone, he puts it back into Akaashi's bag, and returns to studying, silently fuming.
Studying ends up absorbing him a little too much, and by the time he hears movement behind him, it’s almost midday. Akinori finds Akaashi sat up, looking… not much better, honestly, but one good night’s sleep isn’t really going to do miracles. Also, he’s barely keeping his eyes open, blinking them slowly as though trying to parse where he is, and recalling the night before.
“Morning. You can go back to sleep if you want.” Akaashi shakes his head, though.
“Bathroom,” he intones, in a distinctly groggy, croaky voice, as he shuffles over and shuts the door behind him. When he emerges, he looks more refreshed, and infinitely more with it. “Good morning, Konoha-san.” He pads over to the table and perches on the chair across from Akinori, looking about the place.
“D’you want breakfast? I made some a while back. Thought the smell might wake you, but apparently you needed the sleep more!”
Akaashi blinks at him, then the horror begins to dawn on his face. He spins, trying to find a clock, and eventually pin-points the one on the microwave, and freezes.
Akinori beats him to it. “You’re not going to work today. They already phoned, I told them you were ill.”
“What- But-”
“I’m sorry for answering your phone, by the way. I was just going to put it on mute or whatever, but I felt like they were going to keep ringing.”
“But I…” Akaashi genuinely looks flabbergasted, as though calling in sick was never an option. “I need to-”
“They have had enough of your time and energy, I think. Excuse me for saying so, but if they can’t cope without one person for one day, they really need to employ more staff.”
Akaashi seems to sink into some kind of state of shock, retrieving his phone and mindlessly eating the breakfast Akinori heats up for him, grabbing packet curry mix and rice for himself to serve as lunch. They eat in silence, and Akinori is starting to get genuinely concerned that he’s broken him when Akaashi finally speaks up.
"What am I supposed to be doing then?" He asks, subdued, sounding genuinely mystified. Akinori shrugs.
"Whatever you want. Except work. I'd probably suggest more sleep, a health check up, or if neither of those speak right now, maybe something fun at least."
Akaashi furrows his eyebrows. “I did see an advert for a new board game café.”
Akinori wonders if he’d order his several shot drinks there too. “Sounds pretty cool. Was it close?”
“Fairly, I believe,” he says, glancing at Akinori then away again. “Would you like to join me? I’m happy to buy drinks and such in compensation for your hospitality,” Akaashi asks, all in a rush, wringing his hands in front of him. It looks like he’s processed that he’s free for the day, or at least, Akinori will put up a big fight if he tries to go to work. It doesn’t seem to occur to him to lie – or maybe, he just really doesn’t want to.
“Yeah, games are cool. Always used to play when I was a kid, don’t get so many chances now.” He's not exactly going to refuse, after all. Akaashi nods, seeming pleased with himself; Akinori decides that he’s not going to feel bad for answering his phone for him after all.
“Let’s play twenty questions,” Akaashi remarks off-hand as he rolls the dice, then moves his piece the requisite amount. Akinori raises his eyebrow, so Akaashi further explains himself. “We get ten questions each. To… know each other better, I suppose.”
“Isn’t that a speed dating thing?” Akinori questions, moving his own piece, then surveying his properties. “I’m building another house here, by the way.”
“Ah, sure. I wouldn’t know about speed dating, I’ve never done it.”
“Me neither, I think it was in a film once…” Akinori thinks about it, then shrugs. “Why not? You go first, you suggested it.”
Akaashi nods, holding a card up as he thinks, tapping the relevant rent due for the space Akinori has just landed on. Steep. He forks over the cash with a click of his tongue whilst Akaashi works out his question.
“You had a volleyball shirt, was that from high school?” Not exactly what Akinori was expecting, but then he had seemed interested last night.
“Yeah, I went to Fukurodani. We got to Nationals each year, it was pretty fun. Still play now for the college team.”
“You didn’t want to go professional?” Akaashi follows up.
“Aren’t we meant to take it in turns?” He swears Akaashi nearly pouts, and probably in retribution builds houses on a group of three properties in the range of Akinori’s next roll. “Uh… Did you play volleyball?”
“Yeah, in high school. I was going to go to Fukurodani, but then we moved to Kyoto for father’s work. The team was about average, I’d say, we made regionals, but never Nationals.” He sounds… sad, for some reason, although his lips quirk into a brief smirk when Akinori does indeed land on one of his newly housed properties. “Why do you work in the coffee shop?”
“Money, mainly? Parents helped with uni fees, but extra never goes amiss. Plus the rate is better at that time, and since it’s usually fairly quiet, I can study. Man, you’re really gunning for my cash, huh.” Akinori thumbs through his pretend money to find the amount, and thinks about what to ask while Akaashi rolls, moves, and picks up a card.
Akaashi lucks out, and fishes some money out of the bank as instructed by the card. Akinori snorts. “Lucky. Are you always this good at games?” After all, Akaashi has a healthy wad of notes on the table in front of him, and while Akinori is not that close to bankrupt, he’s nowhere near as flush.
“That’s your question? I don’t play much, I never really had time, and now…” His dark circles are better for his long slumber, but not gone, by any means. There is a flash of what might be dread in his expression as he considers work. He snaps himself out of it when Akinori hands him the dice after picking up the money for passing Go and promptly buying the property he had landed on. “What do you study?”
“Pharmaceutical sciences,” he returns. “Didn’t wanna deal with patients!” He grins; Akaashi snorts, which is almost, almost a laugh. Akinori feels a certain sense of triumph in that. “What’s your favourite drink? I’m guessing you wouldn’t order your death drinks unless you felt you had to. You don’t even look like you like them.” Akaashi nods sadly.
“I like tea more than coffee, generally, but I’d like to try some of the newer drinks. I had a caramel macchiato once, that was nice…”
“I’ll make you one, next time.” It’s not meant to come out like a plea, like an extended promise, but it trips off his tongue that way.
“I’d like that, Konoha-san.” It sounds genuine, and Akinori has to smother his smile. “And you? Your favourite drink?”
“Hmm… Depends on the weather. In summer, iced coffees are amazing, but when it’s cold, a hot chocolate really hits the spot.” The weather has held in a pleasant warmth for a while now, but soon it’ll hit autumn and the chill will start. He’s looking forwards to it after the cloying humid heat of Tokyo and the rainy season. “What else can I even ask… Oh, if you could have any superpower, what would it be?”
Akaashi looks stunned for a moment. “That’s a little… odd… to ask.”
Akinori shrugs. “Just came to mind for more interesting questions to ask. Or would you rather ‘what’s your favourite weather’?”
“I think that constitutes two questions, Konoha-san, but I’ll answer both for you,” Akaashi chides teasingly, before landing in jail. He tsks at the board, and hands Akinori the dice. “Just as I was winning, as well.”
Akinori grins. No rent collection when you’re in jail - this is a much easier turn for him. Mind you, he also can’t collect rent off someone who won’t land on his properties either, but hey. He’ll take it, rolling while Akaashi thinks. He starts his answer when Akinori has finished his turn, having considered and decided against buying Yokohama Station.
“My favourite weather would have to be snow, I think. I have fond memories of skiing when I was younger, and it goes so quiet, especially in the countryside…” he trails off for a moment, reminiscing. “A superpower… I don’t think I’d like any flashy power, so perhaps something like being able to understand many languages. And yourself?”
“I’d never have thought of that, but that would be damn useful. Me, I’d go for telekinesis. Great for turning lights off from bed and messing with people.”
“I feel like that tells me a lot about you, Konoha-san.”
“Maybe it does, huh. For weather… maybe sunny autumn mornings, when it’s not too cold.”
Akaashi hums thoughtfully, rolling the dice - to no avail. A two and a four, when he needs a double. Akinori scoops them up and rolls. “Those are nice days. We’ll get them soon, I imagine.”
“Yeah. I’ll have to go to a park when the leaves are turning.” Akinori nearly, nearly, adds an invitation onto that, but somehow, he can’t. It’s too new, and this already feels too close to a date, even if it’s more like dragging Akaashi out into the nicer side of the real world. Asking now would kind of constitute inviting Akaashi on a second one. “Uh… so, if you moved to Kyoto, how’d you end up back in Tokyo?”
Akaashi stills for a moment, then looks askance. Akinori is about to rescind his question, when Akaashi mutters, so quietly he can only just hear over the noise.
“I- I was going to go to university in Kyoto. But I made a stupid decision and told my parents something they didn’t like. I… had to get away from them.” In the silence, he rolls the dice. A one and a six. He’s still trapped, with those diametrically opposite die scores.
Akinori can’t stop himself asking another one. This is bigger than a question game, now. “Is that why you work yourself half to death?” Halfway through, it occurs to him that might well be too much of a sensitive question. “You can lie if you want, I won’t know.”
“No, I…” Akaashi stares down at his deed cards. For a loosely work based game, this is fun. The real world is never so kind - not when real money and real people are involved, and you can’t just walk away when you’re finished playing the game. “I didn’t know what else to do. Then it was habit, and being so numb means not having to think so hard about anything else.”
“I’m sorry,” Akinori murmurs, his mouth dry. Suddenly, the severe dedication to work makes a bit more sense, the terrible apartment - maybe the only one he could get. “But-” Akaashi looks at him, his gaze piercing, “You can be more than their opinion of you. You can have a life without them. I mean, I enjoy your company, I won’t be the only one.”
Akaashi stares at him for a good minute, as though this is some kind of revelation. Akinori almost wants to ask more, wants to slap his parents, but stays silent, trying to convey that he absolutely means it. Honestly, he’d be pretty happy if Akaashi’s life included him in it, but even just knowing he wasn’t killing himself working for some black listed company would be good.
Finally, Akaashi closes his eyes, squashing them shut and rubbing at them for a moment, before pausing, keeping his hands over his eyes. It’s only because Akinori is watching him that he sees his lips move in the shape of an almost silent ‘thank you’.
“Do you want to keep playing?”
Akaashi nods, and they do so in near silence. When Akaashi’s next turn comes around, he hits double sixes.
Akaashi wins.
Then he disappears. A week passes, then two. Three turns into a month; every person at the door is him, until it isn’t, and Konoha finds himself irritated about that. It’s not like he’s gotten so attached to any other customers, but not knowing - not being able to know, having no simple way to contact him at all - is grating on his nerves, unsure what to think about what might have happened. Did he move? Then why not tell him? He starts scouring news reports, hoping for the best but dreading the worst.
And then he’s there. Standing in front of the cafe is Akaashi, a beanie over his messy mop of hair, a few tufts escaping erratically, a long coat on. But he’s wearing jeans, not a suit, trainers rather than black shoes, and he doesn’t have a laptop bag with him, just a small backpack. And, more importantly, it’s only seven. He’d said the office shut at eight, so he always turned up after that.
He looks… good. More well rested, maybe. He catches Akinori’s eye, and visibly brightens, striding over to him.
“I left my job,” he states, so simple and clear like it’s not the huge thing they both know it is. Akinori grins. “I quit, and I haven’t been around since I was getting another job, and moving somewhere nicer. But I’m here now.”
“So you are. I’m glad to hear it, too.” It’s a gentle tide of relief, that he’s actually okay. He wonders if this means the end to their late night conversations, although he won’t miss the crazy coffees. Hopefully this new job is better at overtime than the other.
“I wondered if you wanted to join me for a drink?” Akaashi asks, twisting at a loose cord on the strap of his backpack. Akinori raises an eyebrow.
“I don’t think the boss would appreciate me drinking the good coffee on the clock, even if it’s quiet…”
Akaashi huffs a laugh, leaving Akinori to think he’s miscalculated somewhere. “Not here. I meant, somewhere else. A bar, or a restaurant. Even another cafe, if you wanted?”
Oh. Oh. Maybe this is something a little more than a casual drink, too, if he’s lucky. There’s a glint in Akaashi’s eyes that makes him think he’s not so off-track there, either. He’ll have to see how that one pans out. “Sounds great! Do you want to come in for a drink and we can talk timing?”
“As long as I can get a hot chocolate instead of a coffee, this time?” Akaashi remarks, somewhat cheekily. Akinori grins.
“Believe me when I say that I hope I never have to make you a four-shot espresso ever again. Or even a two-shot,” he returns. “Although you can come visit anytime. Been weird not having you visit.”
“I’m sticking to tea from now on, Konoha-san. But I’ll be glad to visit. I like the atmosphere, and of course, the company.”
If that isn’t a good sign, Akinori doesn’t know what it is. As he leads Akaashi into the cafe, his hopes are pretty high.