Chapter Text
The buttons on the register clacked with every press that Isagi made on it, its sound ringing through the quiet shop. On the counter in front of him was a white cup with a green stripe on it, with a lid that was placed on tightly to cover the steaming coming from its top. As he stared at the screen to hopefully configure it in his head, the sound of tapping entered his ears from the person standing in front of him, a large, muscular man, with ruffled hair covering his large sides and double chin.
"That'll be $8.07."
With a huff, the man shot out his hand, and threw a couple of bills and coins onto the counter. Isagi stared at the laid change and could swear he felt the twitching in his eyebrow, yet it was overshadowed by the stare that pressed on him from in front. He inhaled, and began gathering up the money, typing it into the register, and taking out the appropriate change after the chime.
He put on a stiff smile. "Have a nice day-"
The man snatched the coins from his hand, and stormed away with heavy footsteps. The entrance door slammed shut behind him, leaving the cafe even quieter than it was before, save for the clear ticking of the hanging clock.
Isagi exhaled, and leaned against the counter, savoring the still silence. His shift barely started, and he could already feel the weighing heaviness that came with customer service, one that hanged down with every tick of the minutes hand. Luckily there were no eyes on him, as this hour came with an empty lobby, so he could pass his hands through his hair and huff all he wants to.
Even if he hated it, this job gave money, and money was the one thing he needed to plan his future college, even if the idea made him roll his eyes. In a depressing sense, this job was for planning an empty future, one that laid completely blank in his head just like that school paper asking for his dream career. Blank just like the chair and tables in the cafe.
Eventually though, he stood up properly and went over to work some things in the cabinets, hoping that this time he could find that sugar that wasn't able to be found in time for that man's order. Another angry, impatient customer was not what he really wanted at this moment.
However, it seemed that time just didn't give him that liberty, because as soon as he began opening the cabinet doors, a chime rang through the shop, and subsequent slow footsteps followed. Isagi's hand tightened on the handle. He got up from his crouched position and turned to face the counter.
"Good afternoon, how may I help you?"
A boy, who looked around his own age, was peering around the cafe, slowly walking in with his hands in the pocket of a light-yellow hoodie. He had dark, black hair that went down just below his chin, with bits of yellow appearing on the underside. His eyes darted around the place, like they had never seen anything like it, before they landed on Isagi, who was staring back at him.
Isagi cleared his throat, and decided to ask again. "How may I help you?"
The boy didn't say anything at first. He just got closer and looked down at the menu that laid on the counter, giving a quiet hum. "What do you recommend?"
Though the boy seemed a bit odd, Isagi had gotten that question a million times before, and so he knew exactly how to respond. He pointed to the number of his personal favorite. He admitted it was a bit pricey, more on the higher end of prices, but before he could anything else, the boy nods. "I want that one."
He looked up at Isagi, who stared back with comprehension painted on his face. In response, the boy simply smiled. Slightly choked, Isagi focused on the register, making sure to move his fingers to type in the cost, which seemed to be moving slightly sporadically. Although he had done this for a while now, in the moment it seemed like his mind had went completely blank. It didn't help that he could feel the heavy stare of the other boy.
"Here's your change. It should be ready in 10 minutes." The boy nodded, and putting a hand in his jean pocket, he goes over to a table that sat not too far from the entrance. His steps were wide and bouncy, like he was skipping every other step.
Isagi shakes his head and turns away, trying to focus his mind to make the drink.
As he does though, he couldn't help but notice out of the corner of his eye the boy, who now had his phone out with large headphones placed over his ears, bopping his head to a beat. It looked like he was in his own world, far away and immersed.
Isagi placed the finished drink in the appropriate cup, and went to the counter. "Excuse me, your drink is finished." He made sure to raise his voice so the boy could hear him, but it seemed that wasn't necessary, because as soon as he looked over, the boy was already walking towards him.
The boy grabbed his drink, and looked back at Isagi. "Isagi, right?"
Isagi felt startled before he remembered the name tag on his uniform. Still, he only nodded in response. The boy didn’t seem to mind though, because he grinned back at him. "I like you, I hope we see each other again." Before he could respond, the boy had his headphones back on, and a chime rang through the air, with the sound of door closing coming soon after. For the second time that day, Isagi was in the silence of the empty shop and left to lean against the counter, running his hands through his hair once again.
The heaviness from before was still there. In fact, now it laid deeper than before, spread through his chest, yet washed with a calm, racing beat. He looks up. The clock's hour hand still hasn’t moved.
It is only when he goes back to look at the cabinets and continue with before that he realizes he never got the boy's name.