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Tuesday the 26th. An unassuming day but his favorite day nonetheless. Tecchou knows every second of this one little day, not a single thing out of place or unexpected. Nothing can go wrong and everything can go right.
6 am, he gets up and does his morning workout. First some stretches, then the usual routine to keep himself in shape. The echo of a voice rings up in his mind, complaining that he is up so early and stinking up the room, so once he’s done he goes for a shower. The bed left empty.
After a shower, he gets dressed in the first clothes he finds. It’s time for a little breakfast. He turns on the stove and starts melting some cheese for a dip. Pouring himself some apple juice a ghost of a thought went through him again, he grabbed a lemon to dip in and bite into. He could easily imagine a rough hand hitting the back of his head, not that he knows why, he thinks his breakfast is great.
Though once he finished that and cleaned the dishes, he grabbed a piece of bread to eat during his run to work. During these times he has the morning shift, working the counter at the café, soon they’ll tell him he’s no good with customers and can just take over making the coffee during the rush hours but for now. Exactly one person will complain and the thought makes him smile, that day is his second favorite day, less set in stone but always a delight.
He’s punctual, as he’s always been, he’ll wash up in the restroom quickly later, for now he enters the café, with his coworker just making sure everything is cleaned up and ready for customers. He’s feeling great, the place officially open and his mind and face clear. He checks the time every few minutes again.
8:02 am on the dot, a few customers are sitting at various booths and it’s rather slow, the door opens and the bell rings to alert everyone of that, the sound of a cane tapping the ground could be heard. A head of white, with red tips gets closer and the voice, so faint earlier now rings properly into his ears.
“This should be the café I was told about, how much for a flat white?”, a simple common coffee, so the man in front of him wouldn’t have to figure out what was on the menu. Because who at such a place wouldn’t know how to make that.
Tuesday the 26th or, as Tecchou has it in mind, the day he would meet Jouno for the first time again.
“That’ll be 3.95, Sir” Tecchous voice was flat as it tends to be. His expression almost looks bored. He’s not one to be very expressive after all and he’s been told by many it’s hard to read his mood from it. He remembers, it must have been a long time ago, how Tachihara told him that after the sentence was spoken was the most intense he’s ever seen him.
Time is a strange thing, when it repeats over and over and over again. Their kind, so knowledgeable about it, was aware of the repercussions on one. The same thing again and again and the soul would wither away, a common punishment. With no memories the punished was always doomed. Because nothing could make a soul forget, even a reset.
When Jouno was sentenced…
That was justice. But this was also Jouno and it was a decision that only took five minutes.
“Is this your first day?” the man, his Jouno pipes up, pulling him out of his thoughts, fingers tapping against the counter, in what feels like a deliberate rhythm, he adds “You seem jittery, I can practically hear your heartbeat” and he would be right, but the nerves aren’t from fear but rather excitement. Everytime they do this again and somehow he always feels the same for what is to come.
“No” his answer is simple, Tecchou isn’t a good conversationalist and he’s been told he sounds rather dry but it doesn’t matter. He has tried every response possible and the first one that comes to mind always ends up working the best, because it doesn’t really make much of a difference.
He receives a grumble as an answer and it makes him feel warm. It doesn’t take long before he sets the coffee down, gently pushing it so it makes contact with Jounos fingers that he knows where it is, he pulls out the money and drops the necessary amount next to it on the counter. When he actually picks up the cup, his fingers brush over indents and his eyebrow shoots up.
“What’s this?” His thumb is slowly brushing along the indents of numbers. Tecchou’s eyes land on a small mole at the base of the other’s thumb, he’d like to kiss it. They haven’t spoken more than a handful of polite words but Tecchou thinks of all the times he took his time before trying to really engage with Jouno or make him make the first move. This time he doesn’t feel like wasting his time.
“My Number. So you can call me” He’s done this before and he knows, for some reason Jouno will call, he will complain about how annoying phone calls are and they should meet up, because the speaker distorts his voice and makes it harder to hear or feel anything of note and Tecchou certainly doesn’t say much worthwhile.
“You know I can’t read it, right?” Jouno scrunches his nose and sounds like he’s talking to a child. He must have had a conversation like this a million times before. In fact, Tecchou knows he’ll have it a million times more, where people forget things like this.
“But you can feel the numbers” Tecchou knows he can, with the way his fingers glide over the indents again and again, as if starting to memorize the shape of each number. He takes the grumble in response as an affirmative.
“...You’re an idiot” Jouno scoffs, his free hand picking up the cup as he leaves the shop. A faint smile graces Tecchous face, because he knows ‘idiot' was said with the faintest interest, one day it’ll be said with affection again. because he knows that he will get a call tonight and hear the other’s voice again.
Because he knows the soul remembers.