Work Text:
It all started on Valentine's Day.
Kanae had arrived at Cafe Hachiware in a cheerful mood, sweeping into the building with a small box in hand.
"Good evening, Hachi! Tama," She flicked a glance at the dog-man, who was purportedly sweeping up, but was actually dozing with his head rested on top of his broom, eyes half-lidded, settled on Hachi's workspace (given the nature of the business, Hachi was, on average, the most interesting thing in the cafe, making it only natural that Tama's gaze would find its way to Hachi in the quiet moments). "I've got chocolate!"
"Oh?" Hachi raised his eyebrows at the human. "Did you make them for a special someone?"
"I - oh gosh, no." Kanae waved her hand hurriedly at Hachi. "I don't have the time for a boyfriend. This is just - obligation chocolate, you know?" She set the box on the counter, before bowing to Hachi. "This is to thank you for your kind consideration and excellent service." As she straightened up, her face flushed as she caught sight of Tama. "O - oh! And you too, Tama! Have as much as you like."
"Oh, I can't eat chocolate," Tama said, his ears drooping as he eyed the box on the counter. "It's bad for dogs, you know."
"I didn't know it was the same for beast-men," Kanae said thoughtfully, settling on one of the seats at the counter, before glancing hopefully up at Hachi. "Are you…?"
"I haven't found anything particularly troublesome for me," he replied, opening the box, pleased to find a nut cluster almost immediately, which he popped into his mouth, allowing a moment to savor it. "It'd be a problem if I had - I don't think cats are supposed to drink coffee."
"Wait - really?" Tama's tail was wagging, ears raised just a hair, and his gaze fixed on the box of chocolates. "I could eat chocolate?"
"I don't see why not-" Hachi said with a shrug, which was probably a mistake, as Tama lunged at the box, grabbing a half-dozen or so chocolates and shoving them in his mouth before Hachi could finish his thought.
"Oh, wow," Tama moaned around a mouthful of chocolate, "I cannot believe what I was missing." He jerked his head up suddenly, muzzle stained with chocolate, caramel, and cherry, ears falling back. "Uh. You didn't want…"
"It's fine," Hachi replied, waving a hand at Tama. "I wouldn't dream of standing between someone discovering a new taste. It's one of life's little joys. Besides, I already had a chocolate."
"Oh, well…" Tama squinted thoughtfully at the box before shoving another chocolate in his mouth. His muzzle wrinkled. "Ugh. What-"
"That might be nougat," Hachi offered, leaning over the counter, displeased to discover the box didn't have a guide attached. "It's - well, it's not to everyone's taste."
"Well, the rest of them are pretty good," Tama continued, tail wagging enthusiastically while Kanae looked on, lips quirked in the slightest of smiles. Reminded abruptly of his customer, Hachi jumped to work, inspired, perhaps by the day, or something in Kanae's mood, to make a chocolate drink, steaming, topped with whipped cream and chocolate shavings.
He noted, as he served her, Tama staring fixedly at it, and seeing that, Hachi…took note.
It was common, he knew, when you discovered a new taste, to become a little obsessed with it, and he supposed chocolate had been something of a 'forbidden fruit' for Tama, thinking it was poisonous to him.
But a part of him, the one that activated when a customer, exhausted and in need of the perfect drink, entered the cafe, took notice. If Tama were so enthused by obligation chocolate, if a simple hot chocolate could so enthrall him…
If Hachi wanted to show his appreciation for the work Tama had been doing for him, all he had to do was put a little bit of effort into it.
He mulled over that thought as he settled down for the night in his room above the cafe, tucked into a near-perfect circle in the middle of his bed. It wasn't as if he was overworked, but cats were social animals, so having someone around the cafe even when things were slow had eased some of the burden of quiet days. And he hadn't been overselling Tama when he'd told Kanae he was a skilled patissier (he was just wary about boosting the dog-man's ego too much by mentioning it in his earshot).
But given those facts…wouldn't it be appropriate to do something to show his appreciation to Tamasaburou?
Of course, it would take more than just a simple hot chocolate, or even a mocha special - not to impress Tama, who Hachi was certain would rave over anything, but to meet Hachi's standards for what it took to thank someone.
Except, it had been chocolates that had enthralled Tama - not even fancy chocolate, just convenience-store obligation chocolate. Hachi was sure if he put his mind to it, he could improve on the experience - good chocolate was just about the application of heat and flavor, not all that different from coffee.
Several days of after-work experimentation, however, proved the lie in Hachi's presumption. Chocolate was closer to pastry than coffee, he decided - as much science as art, requiring more than dabbling to perfect.
He - not quite trudged into Cafe Hachiware on one morning following his continued, not failures, but failure to achieve the level of quality he desired, moving with a little less - pep in his step. Tama was there already, putting the finishing touches on the pastries he had prepared for the day. His ears perked up before he raised his head, grinning at the cat.
"Hey, boss," he said cheerfully. "I decided to experiment with danishes today; a colleague from school told me about a cinnamon cream filling she came up with, so I mixed up a few other flavors."
"Boss?" Hachi felt his muzzle wrinkle in distaste. "Since when are you so formal?"
"Ah - I just was thinking maybe I shouldn't be so familiar with you at work. We're professionals, right?" Tama shrugged before returning his attention to his pastries.
"Well…" Tama wasn't wrong, but he and Hachi had known each other so long the idea of taking a step back in terms of intimacy set his whiskers on edge. "I mostly meant we needed to be professional to our customers." He frowned, sending a quick glance at Tama, still bent over his pastries.
"Well, sure, but doesn't that mean I should be running around calling the boss 'Hachi' like we're childhood friends, instead of my employer?"
Hachi felt the frown take root in his thoughts, tugging down at his mouth. He opened his mouth to reply before forcing it closed, aware the downward turn in his mood could make him say things he didn't mean.
"You're not wrong," he admitted, turning his thoughts over in his mind as he tried to figure out how to reply. "But…I enjoy the camaraderie we have here. I think - it must appeal to the customers, as well." His tail twitched as he pounced on a new thought, one that made his ears and heart perk up. "To see the atmosphere of the cafe is warmed by the friendship between the people who work here, it must inspire confidence that everything made here carries some - reflection of that warmth."
"Ah?" Tama raised his head, tongue lolling slightly, tail wagging lazily but persistently behind him, eyes bright (Hachi had wondered, occasionally, if Tama's gaze would be brighter or duller if you tugged away the rectangular lenses that had framed his gaze since Hachi met him - but uncertain why the thought occurred to him in this moment). "So you don't think it's unprofessional to act like we're friends at work?"
"We are friends," Hachi pointed out, "but yes, I think affecting that distance would cool the atmosphere of Cafe Hachiware and make our customers feel less at home here."
Tama's tail was now wagging in earnest as he rose, grinning as he loped around the counter to grab up Hachi in a doggy hug - one of the risks of working with such a tactile creature. Hachi gave it a moment before disentangling himself from the embrace, worried allowing it to go on any longer might wrinkle his uniform. It was all well and good for Tama to look a little informal, but Hachi was the proprietor, so it could be disastrous if he looked anything less than perfectly put-together.
Except as he stepped back, Tama was still staring at him, gaze lingering on Hachi's muzzle; realizing that, Hachi felt a jolt along his nerves.
"What is it?" he demanded.
"Ah, just you-" Tama swiped at Hachi's cheek, raising his hand a moment later to reveal a dusting of dark powder on the fur of his hand. "You had some…" He sniffed. "Cocoa powder on your fur."
"Ah-" Hachi felt his cheeks heat; he thought he'd cleaned up after his experiments at home, but had, it seemed, missed a spot. It was, perhaps, normal for dogs, but unthinkable for a cat, much less the owner of a dining establishment. "I -" He licked his paw and swiped at his face a few times, until he was assured it was clean. "Better?"
"Much," Tama replied brightly, still looking at Hachi with an unnerving intensity, before suddenly shaking his head and stepping back. "But if I've got your permission, I'll keep calling you 'Hachi'."
"I'd prefer it." Hachi hadn't quite meant to say something so blunt, but he still felt a little off-balance from the unexpectedly intimate moment. He turned away as Tama returned to his work, rubbing at his cheek, still half-convinced there might be a trace of cocoa on his fur.
"Still, those danishes sound intriguing." Hachi had let the subject drift unacceptably away from the business of the day. "I'm sure they'll inspire someone who needs it."
"Aww, thanks, Hachi! I'm glad you approve."
"Hm. I - you're a skilled patissier; I couldn't imagine not approving."
"Really?" It came, Hachi supposed, of Tama being a dog, his wearing his heart on his sleeve, sounding so obviously grateful at the praise (his tail wagging, naturally - after a few unavoidable accidents, Hachi had made an effort to rearrange the cafe to more easily accommodate his employee's tail). It only increased his resolve to properly show his appreciation for Tama's dedication.
"Naturally. When you still worked for your old employer, your pastries frequently were the perfect complement to my drinks; while you might not have the same environment here as you did there, I believe you've only improved on that front, since you're able to tailor your work to what you see me doing here."
There was a clatter and a gasp, and when Hachi looked over, Tama was awkwardly balanced, a dozen or so cups tangled in his arms. He gave Hachi an awkward grin. "Sorry, I'll just-"
"Don't worry, I'll help you put them away."
All in all, it was a perfectly normal day at the cafe, but it was those moments at the beginning that stuck with Hachi, pushing him to work a little harder at trying to make something Tama would appreciate, spending a little more time than he should have working at it, ending each night a little more tired, a little more dejected at his failure to convey his appreciation through chocolate.
Perhaps a week had passed since their impromptu heart-to-heart, when Hachi entered the cafe to find Tama putting the finishing touches on a tartlet topped with slices of orange, dots of something pink, and a dusting of sugar.
"Is that your experiment for today?" Hachi asked.
Tama lifted his head and shook it, smiling - shyly, more like the hopeful grin he offered customers if he thought there was the slightest chance of getting pets from them, than the smile he normally wore in the cafe. "No, it's for you."
"I can get my own pastries," Hachi pointed out as he circled the counter. "In fact, since you're my employee, I can tell you to make anything I'd like."
"But you've been down all week," Tama pointed, out, shifting to lean against the back counter as Hachi began preparing his own coffee, "so I thought you could use something prepared to lift your spirits."
"Lift - my spirits?" Hachi stilled, heart skipping a few moments before he turned to examine the tartlet in light of new facts, finding it a small, light treat with a bright flavor profile, and, he discovered as he sniffed, a hint of raspberry to add a touch of tartness to awaken the palette, and thus, the other senses.
"Of course," Tama retorted. "You spend all day trying to touch other people's hearts, but I realized no one's doing that for yours."
Hachi leaned closer to the tartlet, noting that the sugar was not dusted across it at random, forming instead the shape of a cat, ears detailed with sharp edges so as to be unmistakable. There could be no doubt that this was made specifically for him, with as much care and concern as Hachi brought to preparing drinks for his customers.
"…Is your tail wagging?" Tama's voice cut through the moment, dispelling the purity of it with the sudden attention as Hachi's tail went stock-still, puffing up as he felt his cheeks burn.
"Of course not - cats aren't quite so obvious as dogs in expressing happiness," he retorted, pulling himself up away from the tartlet before stepping back to his coffee, sorting through his repertoire for something that would complement Tama's gift.
"But you are happy?" Tama's voice was just on this edge of pleading, just a little high, uncertain.
"Of course," Hachi soothed. "It's a lovely gesture. I just need to figure out the right drink to pair with it."
And Tama laughed - the barking sort of sound when he was startled into it. "Of course - everything has to have the right drink with it, or it's not a proper Cafe Hachiware experience."
And the thing was-
The tartlet was good (of course it was - it had quickly become apparent Tama was the primary reason the bakery he'd worked at had been Hachi's favorite), and the coffee Hachi prepared to go with it excellent, but something about the experience lifted Hachi's spirits more than a snack and coffee normally would have.
(He knew the answer, of course - when food and drink were not only made with care, but chosen with forethought and insight into what you really needed - that knowledge uplifted the experience. It was nothing so simple as 'being made with love', but the truth of the matter bore more in common with that aphorism than not.)
Hachi sighed as he finished the tartlet; when he raised his head, he was startled to find Tama just across the counter from him, staring fixedly at him, eyes almost impossibly wide (and it had to be an illusion caused by his glasses, a thought that sparked a desire to pull them free, just to see for himself - a lapse curtailed only by Hachi's sense of responsibility), suspiciously wet at the edges. "Did you like it?" Tama asked, all but begging - for a little praise, a pet, a scratch, whatever one would offer.
So Hachi offered him a genuine smile. "Of course. It was just what I needed."
The resulting wagging of Tama's tail was violent enough to knock the chair behind him aside, a clatter that seemed to startle Tama, who jumped, whirling, nearly taking another two stools down as well. Hachi couldn't help himself, though was mindful enough of propriety to cover his mouth as the chuckle slipped from his mouth.
Tama, for his part, dragged the stools upright, settled the chair back in its rightful place, before turning that gaze back on Hachi, tail still wagging, though less energetic than a moment ago. He was smiling, which Hachi couldn't help but return in kind, and for a moment, they were quiet, still except for Tama's tail, smiles reflected in each others' gazes.
"I'm glad," Tama said gently. "I think-" His smile slipped as he rubbed at his chin, apparently in thought, searching for the right words, Hachi presumed. "Since you always make drinks to uplift the hearts of our customers, I should do my best to do the same for you - so you always have the energy to continue to help them."
"Ah-" It was one thing to have inspired Tama to try and mimic the same solace Hachi offered to his customers by opening this cafe, and quite another to find that energy focused on him. For the first time in recent memory, Hachi found himself at a loss for words.
It was well, perhaps, that Tama, in his efforts to provide Hachi a pick-me-up, never got around to questioning what had so stressed Hachi that the tartlet was necessary to lift his spirits, because Hachi found himself suddenly more anxious about his efforts.
Still, it gave him pause, in his endeavors, to consider what he wanted to communicate to Tama, what he wanted his friend to feel on consuming the chocolate he was attempting to perfect.
What would best express his gratitude, his happiness at having a friend and coworker as upbeat and enthusiastic as Tama?
It wasn't as if Tama had any particular favorite flavors - he seemed to enjoy nearly everything, which meant he would be moved more by Hachi putting in proper effort to respond to his needs than simply remembering what food he enjoyed.
Something grounding, Hachi eventually decided - an earthy taste, though he found himself considering something unexpected, as well. Chocolatiers sometimes used peanuts ground into a paste as a flavor to complement chocolate, which would, Hachi decided, meld the sweet and bitter flavors to something a little more elevated than just adding sweet fillings like caramel or fruit. It was something of an accident, spilling salt over one of his test batches of chocolates with peanut butter, but while most of the chocolates were ruined, one had just a touch of sharpness from the grains of sea salt, enhancing the taste to something-
Well, Hachi hoped something special.
Still, the perfection he demanded of himself failed to materialize in the chocolate itself, and his disappointment must have continued to show, as one day he arrived at the cafe to find Tama just pouring out coffee into a cup next to a puffed-up croissant; his nose twitched before his ears, and he was smiling when he looked up at Hachi.
"Hi!" Tama picked up the cup and plate, sweeping around the counter with practiced ease to set them both down at one of the tables. "Come on, sit down for a minute, take a load off."
Hachi eyed the setup before turning his gaze on Tama - staring back at him steadily, still, resolute, even his tail still. "…I didn't think I was so exhausted I needed to be treated like a customer," he said, the only thought that could come to mind.
"Not exhausted, exactly," Tama relied, one ear flipping down, to the side, some sort of nervous tic, as he drew closer. "I just think something has been bothering you, so I put this together to help - take a little bit of the edge off." He clasped his hands together, ears and tail drooping as he stared at Hachi, eyes wide, a silent plea Hachi couldn't ignore even if he weren't - well, he hadn't been complaining about the coffee, the croissant, the former sweet and milky in a way he couldn't quite place, the other crisp and fresh, its warmth carrying its scent more effectively than when it had cooled.
"I'm not-" Hachi started, uncertain how to explain, before his stomach growled at the scent of the croissant, and he felt his whole muzzle flush. "Ah. I appreciate it, Tama." He sat down, taking a moment to savor the smells before picking up the croissant and taking a delicate bite. It was simple, well-executed - with just enough salt to bring out the flavor of the dough, delicate and airy. So sampled, Hachi turned to the coffee, which had a dense, sweet taste to it; Hachi took a moment to sniff at it after his first sip, and then took a longer one.
"I can't quite place this," he murmured, more to himself than Tama.
"It's a Spanish latte," Tama burst out. "Espresso mixed with condensed milk - it allows for a sweeter blend without having to mix in additional syrups or dissolving sugar."
"I see." So informed, Hachi took a longer sip, and nibbled at the croissant. It was a fantastic combination, the simplicity of a well-made croissant and the sweetness of the latte. "This is…" He paused, considering, before deciding on, "just what I needed. Thank you so much, Tama."
"I'm glad," Tama replied, though Hachi saw little evidence of Tama's apparent happiness as he drew closer, hands still clasped together, still projecting anxiety. "Just - that if something is worrying you, I…could listen to your problems, instead of just helping lift your mood."
Hachi paused mid-bite, before forcing himself through the moment of confusion and continuing to eat his croissant, drink his coffee. "I appreciate the thought," he replied, "but." He'd started speaking without thinking, and found himself tripping ahead of any idea of what he might say.
"Not that it has to be me," Tama said hurriedly, hands suddenly waving in front of him. "Just that if something is concerning you so much you should find someone who'll listen to you."
"It's…thank you," Hachi was able to force out. "But it'll - I think I'll be fine." He forced a smile onto his face (not difficult to do, really, with someone so willing to listen, so eager to find a way to lift Hachi's spirits). "Having a friend like you has - done quite a lot on its own." He drank down the last of his coffee and pushed himself to his feet. "Now, let's get started on the rest of our day!"
It was a sign, Hachi decided. He had allowed himself to get too worked up about perfection that he had forgotten about what had inspired him to make the gift for Tama in the first place.
So he stepped back, gave himself a few days to just - let it go, to release the nerves that had been soaking up so much of his energy, and found the next few days went more easily. Tama continued to meet him first thing with a drink and one of his pastries - once fresh-squeezed orange juice, paired with a runny egg and creamy sauce; another a delicate salmon-and-cream-cheese sandwich served with a lightly-flavored cucumber soda; and so on. And it made the time spent with Tama easier, not burdened with his exhaustion and growing frustration.
So after a few days had passed, Hachi resolved to make his final attempt. After work he set out everything in the kitchen of his apartment, took a deep breath to steady himself, and began to work.
The end result…wasn't perfect. Hachi wasn't a chocolatier, had only really focused on the skills over the last month or so. But the sincere effort he had put into the gift, Hachi was sure would come through and be appreciated. It was later than he'd expected when he finished, but Hachi made a decision that he would be happy with the product of his efforts, arranging the chocolate in a box and setting it by the door so he wouldn't forget it the next day.
So when he walked into the cafe the next day to a sweet coffee and a pair of mochi, he was able to respond in kind, bowing to Tama and holding out the box to him.
When Tama didn't take it, Hachi rose, eyeing his friend carefully. Tama's ears were flat back, tail puffed out like a startled cat's, gaze settled on the ribbon with which Hachi had sealed the box.
"…What is that?"
"It's…a sign of my gratitude," Hachi offered. "For everything you've done for the cafe, how you've helped build up the atmosphere I want for it. And everything you've done for me. So. Uh. Thank you, Tama." He bowed again, and this time, Tama took the box, though when Hachi rose, he still hadn't opened it.
Hachi's ear twitched at a quiet voice from Tama, once he suspected he wasn't meant to hear. "-simple box, so it must be obligation-"
With that, Tama tugged the box open, and froze.
Hachi gave him a moment before taking another step toward his friend. "Are you alright? I hadn't thought you were allergic to anything, or I would have left it out of the recipe-"
"You made this?"
"Yes," Hachi replied. "I said I wanted to thank you for all your efforts, but something I could pick up at the store seemed - impersonal, especially when I was perfectly capable of figuring it out myself-"
A tongue flicked across the front of Hachi's muzzle, a sensation that was over so quickly Hachi barely had the time to register it before Tama, who had to be the source of the lick (another word danced at the edge of Hachi's consciousness, though he found it slipped from his mind before he could form it), froze for a moment, one timeless, where Hachi was certain he was expected to do something, before Tama blurted out something incomprehensible and bolted from the cafe.
"What." Staring after Tama, Hachi's first instinct was to send him a text, to demand some sort of explanation, but when he found his phone and saw the date…the explanation sorted itself out.
Hachi, a man, had given someone homemade chocolates on White Day, which…sent a message, regardless of the reasoning he'd offered up beforehand. And Tama had - responded in kind, before, presumably, rethinking the entire exchange and fled.
All because Hachi had thoughtlessly-
Hachi's thoughts stumbled on that, as he considered whether it had been truly thoughtless, or if he had subconsciously-
No, Hachi thought fiercely, shaking his head. 'Subconscious' just meant he hadn't given this any thought, which was shirking responsibility for what he'd done. He couldn't say, 'oh, I wasn't thinking, so I have to go along with it'. The way Tama had responded, he must feel strongly, so Hachi owed him at minimum some time thinking as seriously about it before decided what to do.
Offering a glance at the storefront, Hachi sighed and flipped the sign to 'Closed'. He didn't get sick often, and hadn't taken a vacation since he'd opened the cafe, so he suspected he was due a day or two to himself to work things out.
And then he retreated to his apartment to think things over.
Not what he had meant, spending all this time and effort for Tama, who was, before anything, his friend and coworker. But what he intended, going forward.
There were simple parts of it. Tama was his friend - he enjoyed his company, even if they were different from each other - as different as dogs and cats, he considered with a chuckle when the thought came to him. There were more difficult parts of it. Hachi had been a cat before a beast-man, a creature of instinct and desire, rather than one of deliberation and thought. There had been a few customers like Kawaine - familiar and at times solicitous - who Hachi had brushed off as politely as he could, arguing he was focused on his business, didn't have the time, and the like. But that didn't mean he didn't understand desire, affection.
In some ways, he envied Tama being so unabashed in the way he sought out affection, a thought that brought to mind the image of Tama crouching, eyes a silent plea for-
Hachi shook his head furiously to dispel the thought - not irrelevant to his current train of thought, but not conducive to a decision guided by anything but base desire.
(It wasn't strictly unhelpful, though, as it forced Hachi to put a mental checkmark in a column acknowledging that if Tama's impulsive kiss were a reflection of his true feelings, he wouldn't find Hachi wholly uninterested.)
The longer he thought about it, though, the more Hachi became convinced the question was less about whether he would find a relationship with Tama unwelcome, and more…the sort of sorrow that Mio had found in the dissolution of a friendship in the wake of unwanted feelings.
Except his situation was entirely different from the rabbit's, given Hachi was fairly certain he knew where Tama's feelings lay-
A realization that came a moment before a bolt of understanding:
That Tama's situation was far more like Mio's, having expressed his feelings - in a clumsy, impulsive moment - without any confirmation how the man he spoke to really felt. That Tama might even now be worried about the loss of a friendship, love, and his job all at once.
The painful clutch in Hachi's chest at the thought of that wasn't the answer, but it was an answer, another checkmark to add to the mental list, and one that made Hachi decide that there wasn't a right or wrong answer, in the options set before him, just a right or wrong way to deal with it.
The choice, ultimately, was up to Hachi.
…
Hachi tossed aside the mental list, the points for and against, and made his choice.
He slipped out of his apartment and made his way to Tama's (making only a quick stop along the way).
When the dog answered the door, he didn't quite look as if he'd been crying (he hadn't received a rejection or heartbreak, just a moment of panic he'd likely been stewing in for the hours it had taken Hachi to work through his feelings), but he was tense, taut, until he realized who it was, and his ears rose hesitantly (hopeful, Hachi guessed).
"Hachi?"
"I think…there must have been some miscommunication earlier," Hachi said.
Tama's ears drooped, his smile losing some of its easy charm. "Ah. Y - yeah. Right. I can see how-"
"You thought my gift was a sign of my romantic feelings for you, instead of a sincere expression of my gratitude to have a friend like you," Hachi continued, before confessing, "In truth, I hadn't really noticed what day it was."
"I - get it, Hachi," Tama muttered, gaze dropping to the ground. "You don't need to-"
"So I think it's important there be no room for miscommunication," Hachi plowed forward, before bowing, holding out the box he'd bought on the way here. "Here. This is for you."
"This…what is this?" Hachi felt the box tug free of his grasp, but kept his head down.
"I didn't have the time to make another batch for you," he said, "so I found a chocolatier some customers have recommended, and asked for their fanciest box of White Day chocolates, because I had someone I had to confess to."
Silence settled around them, a looming, weighty quiet that held Hachi's heart in its grasp.
And then a crinkle, the shifting of cardboard, and the thoughtful sound of chewing.
"…This is nice," Tama said, "but to be honest, I prefer the ones you gave me earlier. Can we pretend those are the ones you confessed with, instead?"
"What?" Hachi jerked upward, nearly clipping the box of chocolates with his head as he stood, a thread of indignation in his thoughts. "What do you mean, 'pretend'?"
Tama's eyes weren't quite so tired as before, but they were damp, teary, though he was smiling shakily through it. "Just that I think it makes a better story if you asked me out with those really nice homemade chocolates, instead of these." He waved the now-open box (with three chocolates missing already, despite claiming the chocolate wasn't quite as good as Hachi's).
Hachi sputtered. "But that isn't what happened. I had no idea it was even White Day. I had to carefully consider my feelings, and-"
Tama licked Hachi again, although there was slightly more purpose to it, a hair more confidence, and when he pulled back, having shocked Hachi into silence, he was smiling (eyes still wet, but no longer teary), and didn't bolt back into his apartment or anything so dramatic.
"Come on - is it so bad?" he wheedled, "To say you gave me homemade chocolates to convey your feelings to me…and by the end of the day, we were seeing each other?"
"I-" Hachi stumbled at the artful phrasing, the turnabout that explained things without making Hachi seem quite so artless as he had been, and found that…if it made Tama happy, he couldn't bring himself to insist otherwise.
"We could," Tama continued, leaning against the door frame, his smile growing sharper somehow, "discuss it further inside."
"Ah-" Hachi found the cool he could normally keep while at work abandoning him, seeing an expression on Tama's face he'd never quite seen directed at him. "I - suppose we could. Go over the, uh. Nature. Of everything." He was shocked to find himself blushing, though they were talking about nothing more intimate than talking.
And Tama grinned, all sign of uncertainty he might have shown all day gone, as he stepped to the side to allow Hachi passage. "If we're in agreement-"
But Hachi wasn't going to let his employee take the upper hand like that, so reached up as he passed Tama and dug his fingers into the ruff of Tama's neck and scratched, the deep-down neck-scratch he begged for from whoever he thought might be willing to offer - and was rewarded with a rumbling sigh, a startled yelp when Tama realized what Hachi had done, and a bright, hungry look when Tama pieced together what all of the things they'd talked about might mean for the availability of pets and scratches.
It was a few days before Kanae showed up at the cafe again, and when she did, Hachi was ready. As he passed her his take on Tama's Spanish latte, he also slid a small, delicate box onto the table.
"What's this?" she asked, tilting her head at it before shaking it lightly.
"Since you were so kind to offer us chocolate on Valentine's Day, it was appropriate to return the gesture - although I must apologize for it being a few days late."
Kanae laughed as she pulled the box open. "Oh, don't worry - I didn't expect - after all, I'm the customer, here." After a moment, she flicked her gaze up at Hachi, eyes slightly hooded, sly. "I did come by on White Day, but you were closed. Don't tell me you have a special someone you made plans with?"
Hachi felt his cheeks, even his neck, heat, as his gaze dropped. "It was not exactly planned," he admitted. "We had things to - sort out, and - discuss. I felt I wouldn't be able to bring my best to my work."
An arm suddenly looped itself around Hachi as Tama settled his chin on Hachi's shoulder, likely flashing Kanae his easy grin. "Is he trying to pretend he didn't sweep me off my feet?" he asked. "If so, it's a complete lie - he spent an entire month teaching himself how to make chocolates from scratch so he could give me the perfect White Day gift, and when that wasn't enough, found the most expensive box he could buy at the last minute and gave me a very romantic speech."
"A - ah?" Kanae grinned at Hachi as he felt his blush spread. "And here I thought you were going to tell me that your personal life has no bearing on your work or something like that."
"Oh, no," Tama said seriously. "Hachi told me that seeing how close the two of us are helps enhance the atmosphere, make customers have more faith in the care Hachi brings to his work."
"Wait-" Hachi started, trying to turn, only to find another arm looped around his waist, more or less pinning him in place as Tama licked the side of his face-
(And maybe some day Tama wouldn't be able to catch Hachi off-guard like that, maybe some day it would be a familiar, warming gesture, like your favorite drink made with careful routine. He could look forward to that possibility, he decided, while also enjoying the flutter of his chest at the new, unfamiliar touch.)
"You can't deny that's what you said, Hacchan," Tama teased, and when Hachi managed to turn his head, turned that wide, open gaze on him (a plea enhanced by knowing what it looked like without the barrier of glass between them), and Hachi felt whatever resolve to maintain the strict sense of professionalism in the Cafe Hachiware crumble in the face of that expression.
"…You still need to be careful," he decided. "You can't interrupt getting orders to our dear customers-"
"I would never!" Tama declared, pulling away to dramatically place a hand on his heart, earning a giggle from Kanae, a light-hearted sounded that washed away whatever remaining concerns Hachi might have had about giving Tama leave to be - familiar with him. Because it had been love that made Seishirou's cafe a sanctuary to his customers, so there could be no harm in allowing love to flourish there.
"Come on," Hachi declared, striding back toward the counter. "We have a cafe to run."
And Tama, Hachi's loyal employee and partner, followed after him as if it were as natural as breathing.
And maybe it was.