Chapter Text
“Yeah, yeah, okay, bye-” Before the man on the other side of the phone could finish, Mitsuba hurried to press the ‘end call’ function, his excessive pressing leaving fingerprints on the screen.
The pink haired boy groaned, slumping ever so slightly down the bench, the wood hitting his back gently at every plank.
To put it lightly, he was tired beyond his mind- his head ached and he felt as if he might have just died if he spent a second longer in that endless debate. In all honesty, MItsuba himself was hardly at fault here, no matter how much he’d been told. It wasn’t his problem that his so-called ‘administrator’ had such a boring, monotonous voice that made him sound as though he’d just smoked a packing box worth of cigarettes. And it was definitely not his responsibility to deal with the older man’s childish complaints. Overcome by frustration, Mitsuba let out a sharp exhale, clearing his lungs of all the breath he’d held whilst being berated the past thirty or so minutes. Being reasonably annoyed at this point, he decided it was probably best for him to at least try to get out and calm himself. Sure, he’d like to be petty and he’d love to be all dramatic about it, but he just didn’t have the energy. (He also didn’t want to get to the point where he lacked the self control to not kick the nearest post, but that was irrelevant.. Or at least that’s what he told himself.)
With both palms pressed against the wood below him, he pushed himself upwards, his knees bending inwards as he stood. Taking a few moments to straighten his jumper and fix the slim, white strip of fabric in his hair to the shape of a bow, he set off. To where, he didn’t know… wherever felt appealing at the moment. Whether that be the nearest ice cream shop, that one store which sold his favourite records, or…
A sign - seemingly made of a pale beachwood - swung from side to side under the influence of the gentle winds. Intrigued, the pink haired boy drew closer, until he could feel the warmth of air conditioning hitting his face. The engravings on the sign read ‘Grovebrew’. Before anything else, one singular thought came to mind- how stupid and generic the name was. It quite literally almost put Mitsuba off entering.. But the warmth was so enticing.. It smelled nice too, a mix of sweet chocolate and bitter coffee swarming the air. As much as he disliked the latter, it did help lessen the sickliness of the caramel and all things sweet that would usually give him a bit of a headache in such large quantities.
Pushing his judgement aside, he walked in, an obnoxiously loud bell ringing at his arrival. Not only that, but an even louder and somehow even more annoying noise began, that being the voice of the employee currently leaning against the counter. He had scruffy hair of strawberry blonde, and his azureous eyes showed clear excitement. Who knows how long it’s been since this cafe got any attention, given how deep it was buried in the town.
“Oh- hey!!” The boy began, bearing a wide smile.
Mitsuba mentally rolled his eyes.. This stranger was acting so as if he was so familiar, as if he was some kind of close acquaintance who’d agreed to meet here, not a random employee.
“..hi?” Mitsuba began, his voice holding uncertainty and annoyance (despite how he attempted to avoid it). His harsh tone gained a slight cringe from the boy at the counter, which Mitsuba refused to acknowledge. If he’s going to start treating random strangers like childhood buddies, he should get used to getting half assed responses.
“What can I make for you? My bad, it might take a little while because business has been pretty slow today, so all the equipment needs to wake up, haha.” That same bothersome voice began again, gaining a frustrated sigh from the pinkette. Despite his irritation, it wasn’t like he was going to leave the store or something. Even if he had irregular frustration towards this guy, which he never usually felt to those he didn’t know, it wasn’t like he was going to give up a nice drink. Honestly, he might have just cried if he went back home without a hot drink, or something to warm his hands (which felt like pure ice).
“...A hot chocolate, thanks. And whipped cream if that’s possible.” He muttered, moving his tired body to one of many stools dotted around the room. Geez, it felt like proper labour just walking. He closed his eyes, taking in the warmth of the room, savouring the mellow feeling in his chest it supplied him with. When put in comparison to the biting cold outside, this simple, small cafe might as well have been his own personal heaven. Though, that hardly meant much- he tended to refer to most things as heaven, or bliss, or whatever came to mind. Again, he liked dramatics, being something of an actor himself. Well, a model, but it was all one in the same if you zoomed out enough.
“So, how’s everything been? You look like you could choke a boar with how angry you’re acting” The blonde spoke, his irritating voice disrupting the peace Mitsuba had found.
“I’m not mad!” Mitsuba exclaimed, immediately retorting. With a sharp exhale, his body relaxed again. His previously rigid back became somewhat slack, allowing him comfort.
“..and it’s been fine, I guess.” he muttered, his voice a bit quieter now. The boy wasn’t fine, not at all. Yeah, he probably could choke a boar… not like he’d ever subject his so-called ‘delicate hands’ to that. He wasn’t usually one to lie- in fact, he was fairly honest majority of the time- but he just didn’t feel like spilling all his secrets to some lame cafe worker. His truth was worth more than that, he determined.
It seemed the boy at the counter had picked up on his blatant lying, but chose not to mention it. He lifted himself up, his arms straightening when they were crossed in a casual manner just seconds before. With his gentle humming serving as background music (regardless of how Mitsuba would argue he sounded like a dying hog) he began to prepare the pinkette’s drink. He moved swiftly, as if he’d done the same thing thousands of times before. Within a few minutes, the drink was made, placed on the counter for Mitsuba to see. In a brown, indented coffee cup, the hot chocolate sat, decked with a light whipped cream.
As much as Mitsuba would like to deny it… the blonde had done a fairly decent job. It didn’t smell too sickly yet didn’t seem bitter- He despised bitter things. The whipped cream was light, but didn’t melt with contact with the beverage.
“Careful, it’s probably going to be pretty hot. Mind your tongue, the drink loses the flavour if you burn it.” He spoke, leaning his face on his fist. He seemed oddly casual for an employee, but that was probably down to the fact that this was a family-run business (and the fact that it got close to zero business, but he could probably push that under the rug for now).
“Mhm.. yeah, I realised” Mitsuba replied, gnawing on the space between his palm and wrist. Despite the fact he was completely fine as of now, safe and warm, there was still that underlying sense of anxiety that had troubled him for the past forever. It was beyond irritating… hell, it was even ruining his “beauty sleep” as he liked to call it, ironically or not.
Within a few minutes of minimum communication, Mitsuba moving on his chair at least 6 times, and surprisingly no burnt tongues, the drink was finally at a comfortable temperature to drink (as confirmed by mitusba’s hesitant dipping of his slim finger into the drink.) He lifted it to his lips and sipped, letting the hot liquid remain in his mouth for a second before swallowing.
“...it’s nice” He murmured, not wishing to praise Kou anymore than he had to.
“Ah- really? Thanks!! I’ve been getting better at this kind of stuff- hell, the only person better than me at this is my Mum, which says a lot cause she’s, like, really good at making all kinds of drinks” The blond boy replied, a beaming smile decorating his face… his ‘stupid face’ as Mitsuba would refer to it.
“Your mum? So, the whole family does this kind of stuff?” Mitsuba questioned in response. “How lame…” he complained in a quiet voice, which Kou was luckily unable to hear.
“Mhm! Yeah, except Tiara, my youngest sibling. She’s way too young to be dealing with hot drinks. For now, she can just be our taste-tester!” Kou grinned, obviously proud of his only sister.
“Taste tester? Really?.. You surely have enough business to get some people’s opinions on the drink that actually have more thought to it than whether it’s sweeter than cotton candy.” Blunt as always, Mitsuba replied. Sure, it might be considered rude, but he really didn’t care; he usually just said what he wanted to say, though it often landed him in trouble.
“Well yeah… but, it’s the thought that counts, right? Besides, she’d kill my ears complaining if we excluded her” Kou shrugged, somehow unaffected by the other boy's comment.
“..sure. That works, I guess…” Mitsuba discarded any arguments that he’d formed in his head, opting for more peaceful silence. He lifted his cup and began to drink for the second time, without interruption (or, at least he hoped it would remain that way, and that the stupid blonde would be quiet for literally 10 seconds.)
Being provided with somehow perfect luck, the pinkette made the way through the lasts of his hot chocolate without Kou kindling another conversation, which added to the decreasingly minimal satisfaction Mitsuba had found.
Once his cup had been cleared out save a thin layer of drink at the bottom, Mitsuba stood up from his seat, dreading the return to the cold streets, but equally disliking the company he had found. With a swift walk up to the counter, he came face to face with Kou. He quickly got over the conversation of price, not wanting to start another boring chat, paid, and left in the very same minute.
Opening the door brought him right to the reality of how freezing it was, and a frigid burst of air attacked his face. It was almost enough to make him retreat back into the comforting warmth of the cafe, but he'd rather die than be that awkward. Taking a deep breath of cold air -which he immediately regretted the moment it pained his lungs- he set off, in pursuit of his hopefully warm apartment. He’d turned on the radiator when he left the house, and had just hoped it’d heat up by the time he returned.
In his palm, enclosed in rigid fingers, was his cup, having lost all its prior warmth to the cold-ridden air. It wasn’t worth anything to him now, so he made the decision to discard it- what good was it for him to keep his grip on something so insignificant. Finding the nearest bin, he popped off the lid, throwing it in its respective place. In the process of getting to the paper bin, something caught his eye.
“..a number.. What the hell?” Mitsuba muttered, bringing it closer to his face as he inspected it. Of course, it was obvious who the culprit was- that guy at the cafe, who he hadn’t bothered to learn the name of.
With a few moments of thought (probably less than he should’ve given) he tore the sleeve from the cup, pocketing it and discarding the rest.