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Kotoha’s used to manning Café Pothos on her own.
She’s not complaining—she’s actually pretty grateful for the solitude. The orphanage she still lives in is lively and chaotic, but she’s never been the most social, not like Umemiya. She’s been coming to the Café as an escape from the noise ever since she was little, so much so that the old owner, a lady named Aiuchi with wrinkled hands, started taking her under her wing because it’s not good for young kids to sit around with nothing to do.
Nowadays, Aiuchi is too old to be cooking and wrangling customers like she used to, and she’s moved out to the mountains with her grandson and his family. Kotoha now gets a hefty salary and full reign of the kitchen as the sole working employee at the Café—on the condition that she does her best during her night school classes and calls Aiuchi every week, of course.
Kotoha loves it, even if she has to deal with the ridiculousness of Umemiya and other Bofurin students causing a ruckus practically every day.
On days when she’s exhausted and wants to hide, she can admit that the Café feels more like home than the orphanage ever will. There are hours everyday where she has the place all to herself, when she can put on her favorite songs on the radio and work on her homework in peace.
Sure, it gets a little lonely sometimes, but she likes the way things are.
So she can’t be blamed for feeling the smallest bit of reluctance when she gets not one, but two job applications on the same day.
The first one comes from Sakura, who hands her a bunched up and slightly torn paper early that morning, right as the Café opened.
His handwriting is messy, barely legible if Kotoha is being completely honest, and she sees the remnants of corrections and notes on the margins—probably from Suo or Nirei trying to help Sakura out with the application.
Kotoha has the smallest, most shameful urge to lie to him; to say that they weren’t accepting new workers, that he should try other places.
But she looks at him—really looks at him. His face his flushed a deep red, and his mismatched eyes looks at everything but her, and she sees herself in him. Lost, hopeful, desperate. It’s clear he put a lot of effort and trust into that single sheet of paper, offered so willingly to her.
“I’ll take a look at it later,” she tells him, sliding the paper into her book-bag. He looks surprised that she even took the application at all, which makes her feel like shit for being so possessive of the Café.
The application burns in the back of her mind as she goes through her day. She knows that Aiuchi will accept it in a heartbeat, yet Kotoha still hesitates to call her during the lull periods of her workday. She’s being purely selfish, but she needs a little time to herself before submitting it.
And then she gets another application.
It’s nighttime, and the last customer has long since left despite the Café technically still being open. Kotoha dithers behind the counter, grateful that she has no night classes that day. She wouldn’t have been able to concentrate at all.
The door-bell unexpectedly rings, and Kotoha looks up to find.—hm. Someone she doesn’t know, surprisingly enough. She prides herself on recognizing almost everyone in town on sight, but not everyone comes around to the Café, she guesses.
She sees a mop of wavy hair as black as night, like ink dripping down paper-white skin. His dark long coat slides off of his shoulders, revealing bits and pieces of numerous tattoos. The coat itself is adorned with artful rips and tears, as well as embroidered skulls in off-white.
It’s all very...emo.
“Can I help you?” she asks, hoping he doesn’t order an egg-dish. Between Sakura and Umemiya, she runs out of eggs before each day is over. It sucks.
“I would like a job,” the man practically oozes, sauntering his way in front of her and flourishing a piece of paper like it’s a godly gift. There’s only one page. It just has his name on it. He smiles.
“Um.” Kotoha peers at the paper. Endo Yamato. “Do you have a resume, or…?”
“What’s a resume?” His sharp eyes hold no recognition in them.
Oh god.
…
She ends up hiring the both of them, very much against her will. Once Aiuchi found out about the applications, her mind was made up, just like Kotoha predicted.
She couldn’t bring herself to hide Sakura’s application from her, anyway. Showing Endo’s was just out of obligation, though.
Kotoha has the extremely intelligent decision to train them both on the same day, because it’s reasonable to want to kill two birds with the same stone. Right?
...Right?
Three big problems arise within the first hour.
Number 1: Endo was, um. How does she put this? A bit of a romantic at heart, but in the worst way possible.
“Your eyes,” Endo says, almost immediately after catching sight of Sakura. He gets right up into his face and everything. “They’re knives of death stabbing straight into my beating heart. Their intensity; deep as the black night and shimmering as the gold jewels. Your hair—“
“Yeah, we’re not doing this right now,” Kotoha interrupts. She refuses the witness this in her Café. This is her sacred ground right now, no flirting allowed.
Endo ignores her, which will become an unfortunate trend in their new endeavor as coworkers, and continues to leer over Sakura and play around in flowery diction and menacing gestures.
Sakura blushes violently, but his face looks just as disturbed as Kotoha feels.
Which brings her naturally to Problem Number 2: Sakura despises Endo. She can’t blame him, but it sure makes her attempts at a crash course to the Café lean more on the ‘crash’ side than the ‘course’ side.
“I don’t like him,” Sakura confesses to her like it’s a secret (it’s not). Endo’s gone to the bathroom to clean off a week’s worth of coffee powder from his hair after the latest teasing-squabble. “He’s too tall. And he’s creepy. And I don’t like all the fancy words he uses.”
“They’re not that fancy,” Kotoha says, in the essence of a dwindling sense of fairness. But. She’s getting real sick of Endo waxing poetry about Sakura and his boyfriend(?) ‘Chika-chan’ when she’s trying to teach him how to work the cash register.
“He’s got issues,” Sakura says, crossing his arms. Hypocrite.
Problem Number 3 is something that’s sadly a bit more predictable—Sakura has no experience cooking something that requires a stove, or an oven, or anything that isn’t a pre-made meal in a microwave, if even that.
This one, at least, has a solution.
She sits Endo in front of the coffee machine, hoping it would distract him long enough for her to give Sakura her undivided attention. She’s glad she bought such a huge batch of eggs that morning, as she walks him through multiple failed attempts at cracking eggs, and whisking eggs, and frying eggs…
Everyone has to start from somewhere. She knows that more than anyone.
The materials and her patience are all worth it at the end, when he finally makes an egg-sandwich that meets up to the menu’s standards. It’s not perfect—he didn’t whisk as thoroughly as he should’ve, and it’s a bit overdone—but it’s food. That’s what matters.
By the sparkle in his eyes and the softness of his brows, it’s probably the first time anyone’s helped him with life skills in a long time.
Kotoha’s heart clenches in sympathy. She makes sure to eat the sandwich with a smile on her face (and keep Endo’s grabby, coffee-stained hands away from it).
…
Kotoha doesn’t really understand Endo. On the surface, he looks like any other zany delinquent in this town—he’s got the muscles and the scarred knuckles to prove it.
But he’s a lot more...intense...than the Bofurin members she’s come to know and love. Almost dangerous, but then again Umemiya’s quite dangerous himself, isn’t he?
Kotoha asks Sakura about it, when their trial day comes to and end and the older teen bounds along to who knows where to do nefarious things with his maybe-boyfriend (she still hasn't figured it out yet.)
Before he left, he winked at Sakura. Kotoha’s not sure how much of it is teasing and how much of it is legitimate flirting, and she doesn’t want to find out.
“I’ve never heard his name before in either Furin or Shishitoren,” Sakura tells her, after a thinking on it for a minute. She appreciates it. “And he’s not quite like them, I agree. But he seems harmless, even if he’s creepy as shit.”
“I’ll keep an eye on him. Aiuchi’ll let me fire him if he does something funny.”
Sakura nods in agreement. It’s nice having someone on her side. She returns to cleaning up Endo’s numerous attempts at latte art, which all have skulls and thorned roses on them. If anything, he’s quite the artist.
…
She’s finally figured it all out.
About Endo, that is. There are some things in the universe she’ll never figure out, like Hiragi’s still beating heart after all those stomach meds, but she digresses.
It all clicks together on her coworkers’ first real day of work together.
Business is slow as usual midday, though the combined company of Endo and Sakura sure made it more interesting, for better or for worse.
They create messes more often than not, and Endo has a bad habit of changing the radio station to some horrible-sounding death metal when she wasn’t looking, and Sakura’s constant sputtering and shouting distracts her from her homework, but she doesn’t find herself hating it as much as she thought she would.
Endo’s honestly starting to grow on her throughout the week—the goth getup is starting to look fashionable, and in a certain light some of those tattoos almost look cool.
Or maybe she’s just going crazy.
Ever-dependable Sakura despises him as always, though that doesn’t stop Endo from blowing him kisses from across the kitchen in between complaining about the assigned ugly moldy green aprons, using his own delightful words.
But anyway. The revelation.
The afternoon brings her usual customers; Bofurin. They’re all excited to come over to see Sakura’s first day of work, especially Umemiya. They’ve been so focused on Sakura that Kotoha’s sure they forgotten she hired two people, not just one, but whatever.
They come in, loud and obvious as usual. Umemiya leads the way of course, followed by Hiragi and Tsubakino and some of Sakura’s classmates from his grade. She clears her throat from behind the counter, about to formally introduce her two new coworkers, when a blur of black ducks from beside her.
It’s Endo. Hiding behind the counter, out of sight from the customers.
“Uh,” Kotoha says. She shares a bewildered look with Sakura from across the room. That was the most un-Endo-like action they’ve ever seen.
“Is there something wrong?” Umemiya asks. He’s got that look in his eyes that usually means he’s about to throw hands with whatever is bothering her. Uh-oh.
She looks down at Endo again. He’s shaking his head back on forth, brining a finger to his mouth, asking for her silence. He’s got a weird smile that Kotoha can’t place…
Oh. Oh
“Nothing’s wrong, Umemiya. You should try the new dish Sakura learned before everyone else eats it,” Kotoha says. Umemiya smiles in relief, but all she can think about is her new revelation.
The Bofurin guys go over to a table, discussing something or another, while Sakura joins her and Endo behind the counter.
“Is he hurt or something?” Sakura asks. Kotoha’s proud of him for being concerned about other people’s wellbeing, even if it’s for a guy he hates.
Endo frowns but doesn’t say anything—completely out of character, he usually never shuts up—and Sakura gives her a lost look.
Ugh. She hates being the most emotionally mature one in the room (who’s she kidding, she wouldn’t want Sakura any other way).
“He’s not hurt,” Kotoha explains, confident. “He’s just shy around all these guys, can’t you tell?”
It’s pretty obvious when she thinks about it. He’s been pretty open with Sakura and herself, but when the rowdy group of Bofurin students came in he’s suddenly not acting like himself. He reminds her of one of the little girls at the orphanage, a nine-year-old named Mai who’s so talkative around her two closest friends but shrinks in on herself during group dinners.
Just like Kotoha’s own younger self.
“Shy?” Sakura eyes widen, looking back and forth between them. “Endo? Shy?”
Endo chokes on air below them. They ignore him, since he’s clearly too embarrassed to speak and its best not to overwhelm him with attention.
Kotoha tuts, pleased with her own astute observations. “He may dress like he’s off to a Halloween party, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be shy. It’s perfectly normal.”
Endo mouths the word Halloween with a pout on his face—sorry man, it’s the truth—while Sakura looks at him with considering eyes. He glances over at Umemiya’s table to make sure no one’s looking, and ducks down next to Endo.
“They’re not so bad,” Sakura says, reluctantly in that stupidly endearing way of his, lightly patting him on the shoulder.. “You don’t have to be so nervous; I’ll watch out for you.”
“Yes. Shy. I am shy,” Endo says, nodding hurriedly. He must feel so relieved, being understood. He clasps Sakura’s hand in both of his own, leaning in with a wide smile. “I love you.”
Kotoha rolls her eyes, and Sakura shakes his hands off with a little less disgust on his face than usual, before they both go and do their damn jobs (feeding the perpetually hungry Bofurin members).
By the time the group left, after showering the both of them with compliments that made Sakura turn bright red of course, it’s almost closing time, and the end of Endo and Sakura’s first day of work.
Even if Endo didn’t do a lot of work, sitting behind the counter and writing in that little notebook of his that he wouldn't show anyone. Maybe it’s a diary.
“That was horrible,” Sakura moans, cleaning up the piles of used dishes, soap coming up to his elbows. “They ate so much. So many eggs, gone.”
Kotoha is filled with vindictive glee. Sakura shudders away from the smile on her face.
“It’s been great, but I gotta bounce,” Endo says, and makes a break for it. Or, tries to. Kotoha blocks the door with her body. He could’ve totally pushed her to the side—he’s a lot bigger than her and even Sakura—but he pauses, looking down at her with raised eyebrows.
“You’re helping us clean up.” Kotoha crosses her arms, glaring up at him. If she’s going to be forced to have coworkers, she’s going to exploit them every way she can.
For a second, she thinks Endo will ignore her and brush past her as usual, but he just sighs and turns on his heel, sauntering his way to Sakura, making grabby hands at the dishes (and Sakura’s blushing face).
Kotoha almost wants to jump up and down in joy. He listened to her for once! Maybe he feels more comfortable around her now. Yeah, that must be it.
…
As the week goes by, the three of them fall into some sort of rhythm that works for all of them.
Endo’s just as annoying about the radio as he was during training, though now waxes poetics about the bands and singers to her as he does it. Sakura’s started doing his homework alongside Kotoha, and sometimes she helps him when he gets stumped. Occasionally Endo butts in to offer his advice, but he’s somehow worse at math than Sakura is so it’s usually wrong.
Endo does most of the cleaning up in exchange for ducking out when their most rowdy customers (read: Umemiya and co) arrive. Kotoha’s sure he appreciates it, since he always asks how they’re doing after and insists on hearing whatever they talked about. He must be curious about them, even if he’s nervous about meeting them.
Sakura’s getting better and better at cooking, which makes him smile more often, which makes Endo swoon more but she’ll ignore that last part. She’s unbelievably proud of Sakura for how far he’s come, and pretty soon she’ll start graduating to the harder dishes now that he’s mastering the eggs.
It’s nice, having them around.
And then pay-day rolls around.
A few more problems arise.
Kotoha gives them their paychecks, telling them to spend responsibly before sending them off for the day. She briefly wonders if she’s babying them too much—surely, they know how to spend money.
She later finds out she should’ve given them a power-point lecture instead of such a flimsy warning.
Endo’s the first one in the next day, pleased expression on his face, adorning a gaudy long coat embroidered with two skeletons spitting flames into each others’ mouths. Kotoha’s never seen it before, which is odd, because he’s worn pretty much all of his designer clothes to work by now, throwing the same hissy fit each time about wearing an apron over it.
“Is that new?” she asks him, blissfully oblivious.
He not-so-subtly shows it off, letting it slide down his shoulders to ‘artfully’ reveal his tattoos. “Yup. Got it yesterday.”
Hm. “How much did it cost?”
“The whole paycheck.”
Oh. She was hoping he’d save it, but buying a gift for yourself isn’t too bad. He seems to like it quite a bit, anyway. “Have you been eyeing it for a long time?”
“No,” he says, smiling. “I just saw it and bought it. I’m usually broke as shit, so I was looking for things to spend the money on.”
Oh. Oh dear.
“Do you always spend money you earn immediately like this?” Kotoha bites her lip, dreading the answer.
“Well, what else am I supposed to do with it?” Endo says, way too casually. “If it’s not for tattoos or clothes, then it’s for Chika-chan.” He gets that dreamy look on his face, like he always does when talking about his probable-boyfriend (and also poor Sakura).
Kotoha opens her mouth and closes it a few times. Just how down bad is he? She finally finds her voice. “Do you at least have enough money for groceries and bills?”
Endo smiles. “Nope. Chika’s more important. And also my amazing sense of style.”
Kotoha grabs him by the arm, dragging him to the employee’s room, not giving a shit about his surprised expression. “We’re going to have a long talk about money management, damn it.”
After an hour of what Kotoha would call ‘a helpful and informative lesson’ and what Endo would call ‘torture’, she finally has time to ask Sakura about how he spent his paycheck.
He’s at the front of the Café, wiping the counter, eyeing her warily as she leaves Endo’s shaking body in the employee’s room (honestly, always so dramatic). “What did you do to him?”
Kotoha scoffs. “I helped him. Now let me help you.”
“Uh,” Sakura says, eyeing the exit but obediently staying in place. Good.
She soon finds out that Sakura has the opposite problem of Endo’s.
“I didn’t spend the paycheck,” he says, which brings her a false sense of relief.
“I’m never going to spend it,” he unfortunately continues. “I’ll keep it under my pillow for an emergency. I’ve never needed extra money before so why do I need it now?”
Kotoha pinches the bridge of her nose. “Sakura. You absolutely need the extra money. You only eat dried ramen and cold canned beans at home.” There’s a reason why she gives him so many on-the-house dishes as she does, after all.
Sakura tilts his head, uncomprehending. Kotoha sighs and rolls up her sleeves. Time for another lecture.
Ah, the things she does for her boys.