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It’s a bitter, cold evening.
The world is still, except for one man brushing the tips of his fingers on the cool, metal keys on the typewriter. No matter how much the chill of the metal nips at his skin, he keeps at it as if he has nothing to lose.
Because…he doesn’t.
All Kazuma can do is reach out for the small cup of matcha tea and take a sip to warm himself up. Perhaps it’ll give him motivation to create a masterpiece and flourish this into something incredible.
Yet, it does nothing.
Why should it? The tea is lukewarm and lacks flavour. As a matter of fact, if he hadn’t brewed it with his own two hands, he would have mistaken it as water. He must have pulled the sachet out too early again…
How ironic. It reflects his character all too well.
Like how he had only been partially invested in being a defence attorney while he was doing what he could to get justice for his father. Even if he had successfully pulled it off, no matter how long he simmered, he would have never found the truth without an outside source.
He would still be simmering, overshooting his own drink enough to be bitter for anyone to enjoy. If he was lucky...
If things panned out without interference, there would have been no tea in his cup. There would be no him.
What’s worse? He hadn’t learned his lesson the first time around. He brewed the exact same way. Though this time, he tried a different blend for a new flavour.
He needed something robust.
Something his partner could reap the benefits of when he came home.
Yet, the flavour was still lacklustre.
He had pulled out of the prosecutor’s position once it became clear he was just enforcing the cruel policies of London and not actually helping those in need. No matter how small the crime, corporal punishment always seemed to be what they thought was fair…
Well, except for the Lords, of course. They always got a slap on the wrist if they weren’t pardoned immediately.
He was ridiculous thinking that if he brewed long enough in that field he could change it. That flavour had become worse as he realised he was part of the issues he was trying to fight. Once he tasted blood in that cup, he had to stop drinking.
He’s now huddled in his office, hoping the words that reflect on the paper can somehow form his future. He tries to simmer as long as he can, focusing on the plot that’s building on the page.
He doesn’t get tea. It always takes way too long to prepare and yet, the payoff is underwhelming.
He exhales, abruptly cupping his hands before letting out a deep, defeated sigh. He needs to stop running away from accountability.
…It’s not about the tea. It never has been.
It’s bigger than that. It’s the preparation of the tea. It's the routines he’s built over the years, always fumbling his brew and ambitions before they’re ready. He’s always pulling out of things before he’s actually ready.
Yet, he presents himself as a perfectly well-balanced drink.
Like this cup of tea, he’s a disgusting, tasteless piece of-
There’s a knock on the door and his head perks up. He hadn’t expected company due to it being so late. He gets up from his spot, stretching his back with a pop and pulls the screen to the side to greet whoever is foolish enough to visit him during these late hours.
There’s Susato-san with a tea set in her arms. Her eyes are heavy with dark eye bags, but there’s a bright smile as she greets him. “Hello, Kazuma-sama. Working hard?”
“Er…” Kazuma tries to come up with a lie, but his mind doesn’t catch up on time. He exhales in defeat. “No. I was writing. Come in.”
“Thank you.” Susato-san sets the tea-set on the desk, right next to the typewriter. She glances at the cup Kazuma made with a confused face. “W-why did you put water in a teacup? We do have glasses for that, you know.”
“Yes, but…” Kazuma shakes his head before grabbing the cup and frowning. “It was supposed to be tea, but I made it wrong.”
Susato-san’s smile only grows as she nods. “I see. Some things never change.”
“Huh?” Kazuma pauses.
What is she talking about?
“Father always mentioned that in spite of all of your accomplishments, you couldn’t make a cup of tea to save your life.” Susato-san giggles. “I always told Father off for that, but he was right.”
Kazuma does crack a smile at that. “Yes, I suppose. What type did you make?”
“I made an herbal blend to help you relax. You seem…tense lately.” Susato-san pours herself and him a cup of tea, handing one over to him.
He cusps the drink in his hands. The warmth of the soft herbal tea hits his throat, perfectly tuned and sweet. With a slight hint of tang. A lovely aroma of flavours that don’t need any additives to enhance the drink.
Weirdly enough, it almost is how he’d describe Susato-san.
Balanced, precise, and sweet.
He likes it.
As much as he likes her unexpected company.
“Thank you.” Kazuma thanks her before taking another sip of the delightful drink.
This tea isn’t so bad. It still doesn’t do much for him like the abomination he tried to brew earlier, but it’s tolerable enough to drink. Even if he hated this blend, he couldn’t bring himself to hurt her once again. He’s already disappointed the young lady enough with his actions.
She hums before sipping her own with a content nod. She glances over at the typewriter. “What were you writing?”
“I don’t know.” Kazuma admits. “Whatever came to my mind.”
“My, it looks like a lot. That page is almost finished!”
“Yes, I do have a lot on my mind.”
Susato-san’s eyes avert to the ground. “…You always seem to.”
She’s right about that. As a matter of fact, his head can’t ever seem to shut up these days.
The two sit in silence before they continue to drink the brew, the brisk cold clasping around Kazuma’s skin. The tea is enough to keep him warm and is enough to focus on the matter at hand. Susato-san has come with purpose. It is unlike her to just come for a quick chat without meaning. So whatever she has to say, she will in due time, he wants to be alert.
She says nothing and the silence ebbs into his ears, ringing into his mind. Torturing his soul, wondering why on earth she bothered to see him tonight.
After almost what seems to be a century’s worth of silence, she finally speaks up, placing her teacup to the side. “Kazuma-sama. You haven’t been sleeping, have you?”
He’s silent. He doesn’t have a response to that.
After all, she’s right.
He hasn’t been sleeping well at all. If he’s lucky, he’ll get four hours at a time. Yet, as it had in London, doing something to battle the insomnia instead of nothing is better than struggling to get back to sleep and visit the souls that haunt his every core. He foolishly thought learning the truth would have stopped these visits, but the reality is that it has gotten worse. Now that he has clarity of what happened all those nights ago, all of those who he has wronged — indirectly or directly, come to mock him for his failures.
The failure he never learned the truth on his own. The failure of not being able to complete, not one, but two of his careers. He’s a wreck and it’s been a daunting realisation since this entire situation unfurled.
It has been taxing, but…
He has had to march forward. He doesn’t have a choice. If he does nothing with the precious time Mikotoba-sensei has given him, then his entire life and ambition would be for naught.
Sleep…sleep is a luxury he cannot afford. Not in this mental state. Not until he’s brewed the perfect cup of tea and he can finally relax. Maybe even sleep more than a few hours at a time. Ideally, next to his beloved in the same cot, his head rested on his partner’s chest, hearing the steady thumping of his heart.
A relaxing melody so he can rest…
“What is this, Judi…er, Suasto-san?” Kazuma asks, motioning to the cup. He’s going to have to drop that honorific since she’s now an established lawyer in her own right.
“Tea.” Susato-san says flatly as she takes another sip.
“No, I mean the blend. It’s subtle, gentle…” Kazuma trails off before Susato-san nods.
“I’m surprised you don’t recognise it.” Susato-san pauses before glancing down. “It’s a simple blend of chamomile, lavender, and vanilla. I’m sure you had this before.”
Kazuma pauses before taking another drink. “No. I don’t think so. But I like it.”
“I would hope so.” Susato-san pauses before nodding. “It’s actually a bit of an elixir, if you will.”
“Ah, so you have finally poisoned me.” Kazuma quips before taking another swig of the drink. If she somehow finally snapped and actually had poisoned the blend, at least he’ll die with the pleasant blend lingering on his tongue.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Kazuma-sama.” Susato-san’s voice lowers with a bit of annoyance as she glances down at her half-drunk cup of tea. “It’s meant to aid you.”
“Aid me in what?”
“…My, I thought it was only Naruhodo-san that lacked knowledge in flowers. These herbs are meant to help you sleep.”
“Oh!” Kazuma-sama blinks, staring at the drink. So that's what it was...
It’s a lovely concoction that has relaxed his heartbeat and his body. It’s not the magical healing potion he may have wished for to help with his fatigue, but it has calmed his mind. To her credit, it actually has somewhat helped.
“How did you find out about this blend?”
“Little Iris served this blend to me a lot when we lived in London. Before I left, I asked for the recipe.” Susato-san nods. “Had she never given you this?”
“No.” Kazuma shakes his head. “She mostly made me tea to keep me alert when I was finishing up reports.”
“I see. Well, shall we see if this blend works on you?”
Kazuma pauses, his eyes roaming to the typed words. By this point, it’s probably fumbled with nonsense that has no true meaning. There’s no point to continue the jumbled thoughts and digging the rabbit hole of self pity.
Perhaps…he ought to try to sleep.
His body is still as sluggish as it was this morning, and his mind is starting to become clouded. He has a feeling that sensation isn’t entirely on the tea that Susato-san served him. His mind seems to be catching up that his body is tired.
Kazuma swallows his pride before nodding. “Yes, I think we should. And thank you.”
“Of course. You know…” Susato-san pauses before continuing. “I don’t sleep well these days either. If you are restless, you can always come to me.”
There’s a weight to her words, probably more than she realises. Perhaps, to her, it’s a simple offer to be polite. To him, it’s the beginning of the steps that the young lady has begun to forgive him for his misdeeds. Perhaps it’s selfish, but something about that being taken off his shoulders is enough for his body to relax.
“Oh, and of course, I can always make you a cup of tea.” Susato-san offers. “After all, you can’t possibly write with such an abysmal drink by your side. You’ll never get anything done.”
She must still be in the stages of her head wrapping around the fact she is a certified lawyer. And a rather impressive one too. She doesn’t need to be an assistant anymore.
“I think I’d prefer to learn how to make my own. You aren’t my assistant anymore.” Kazuma offers with a weak smile.
“You know what?” Susato-san nods with a gentle smile. “I think that would be wonderful.”
“That’s good. Perhaps we can do it now?”
“No. That can wait.” Susato-san frowns. “You must get rest. Don’t make me do a Susato Toss to get you to bed!”
Kazuma nods, not wanting to challenge her threat. She will do it if push comes to shove. “Fine, I’ll get some rest. But I will learn how to make tea. No, I’ll master it.”
“Now that’s the Kazuma-sama I know. Come, you can be ambitious about the art of tea-making tomorrow.” Susato-san hums before standing up to pull up Kazuma from his spot. “Do I need to escort you to your room?”
Kazuma yawns, shaking his head. “I’m alright. Goodnight, Susato-san.”
“Goodnight, Kazuma-sama.”
He leaves the room, ready to keep his word. Yet, for the first time in a long time, he is ready to learn from the master.
Perhaps then his own cup of tea won’t be so bland.