Tch.

"Nope, you’re my one and only."

With a shrug, Aomine began to look over the other’s form in search for any clue that the other had already made something. He’d certainly smell it then, but sometimes even his nose failed him when searching for food. It was a waste to only make food for himself as well when he made food like that, therefore so had Aomine made it his own mission to get food from the other as often as he could; Basically whenever he was n the area and had time to do such, which wasn’t as often as he wanted.

Really though, the brunet should just have accepted this reality by now. He had already been over here a few times before by now, just showing up when he wanted to do it. Even he could notice that the other weren’t quite happy about it, but that didn’t matter when he got food on the table. And if he actually didn’t want to make food so would he just slam the door in his face right? Which made him come to the conclusion the other did want to make food, he was just being against it for some reason.

“I don’t want to stand out here all day— So can I just come inside already?”

"Nope, you’re my one and only."

“Tch. Lucky me,” the brunet muttered under his breath. However, it didn’t look like Aomine was going to easily back down from his request any time soon. With a small sigh, Shinjiro slid back from the door and propped it open with the toe of his boot, giving Aomine just enough time to slink in behind him before the brunet turned on his heel and let the door fall shut behind him.

“You’re out of luck tonight,” Shinjiro called out over his shoulder as he headed into his painfully small kitchenette. “Haven’t been grocery shopping in a while, and I haven’t made dinner yet today.” Shaking his head, Shinjiro opened up the fridge as if to confirm this unfortunate fact before he glanced back over at Aomine. “But I think I can improvise. What do you want to eat? Nothing fancy though--this isn’t a restaurant.”

— [♛];; Ending up at the other’s shide of Shinji’s door wasn’t anything unusal, he did that whenever he was in the area and he felt hungry. There was never a notice for his friend, he would just pop up whenever he wanted, at times even he had to question how the other just ended up accepting things like this. Not like he would complain though, he got free food, which didn’t taste like it had been standing out for a week.

Without much hesitation at all he moved his hand to knock on the door to the area which the other lived in, Aomine himself wondering what he would end up eating this time. The idea of the other rejecting him far away from his thoughts, it hadn’t happened before so why would it happen today? The brunet seemed to enjoy making food either way so from his persepectve so didn’t he see any reason why he would complain in the first place, when he visited so could he make food without it going to waste after all.

He could always try and knock one more time to try and get the attention of the other male, maybe he just hadn’t heard him? Or maybe it was the fact that it barely had passed ten seconds since he had knocked and the other was in the middle of doing something? In the end, either of that didn’t help his case at all.

Simply standing on the wrong side of the door bothered him, he wanted the brunet to open so he could demand food already. Maybe it was just him being impatient, but he couldn’t help it; He was hungry, Shinji made great food, but threre was no Shinji there yet that would let him whine about getting him some food.  What if the other thought he was a salesman because he hadn’t pushed the doorbell? Such a bother, he would just have to make sure the chef knew it was him then.

Shinjiro had just gotten comfortable on his other side when the knock came again, and after a few seconds the sound of another male’s familiar voice from behind the door made him groan. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered under his breath, propping himself up with one elbow before slowly and reluctantly propelling himself up off of the couch. Once he was upright, he made his way over to the front door of his apartment and peered out of the peephole just to make sure his visitor was exactly who he thought it was. Inwardly Shinjiro let out a groan when he verified his guest’s identity, and after taking a few seconds to brace himself he unlocked the door to his apartment.

Waving the wooden spoon, threatening to spackle the kitchen wall with carbonara, Minako pointed at him in a definitive stay put motion, with a little grin. “I’ve got it under control. Don’t you start, or I’ll use you as dummy practice for my interview.”

While serving, she reflected that it hadn’t been so bad to tell him the truth or… the details or however one wanted to put it. Maybe she’d been dreading coming to a decision for so long that even when things were working out just fine, some niggling measure of hesitation lingered, which was unlike her. Live for the now, right? She bit her lip unconsciously, digging sharp even as she ladled out portions of pasta onto the plates. 

Not that I’m telling him everything. Do people normally tell each other things about their family? Mystified by the whole business of being open with other people about things she actually didn’t like to air out in public, Minako slipped into a mechanized mode, carrying out the plates out of rote, repeating the familiar pattern like a wound-up doll. 

The dark-haired man leaned to the side to give Koromaru a quick pat before movement from the corners of his eyes made him straighten back up in his seat. When Minako crossed the room with plates of steaming carbonara in her hands, Shinjiro flashed a small grin as she set a plate down in front of him. It still felt acutely unusual to have someone cooking for him and serving him a meal because normally he was the one that assumed those sorts of responsibilities. After Minako was seated herself, he tentatively picked up his fork and stabbed a stray noodle unceremoniously, curious to see how Minako’s experiment had turned out.

He held the fork up and away from the still-steaming plate and blew on it for a few seconds before he took a bite of the pasta. Despite her restrictions ingredients-wise, Minako had done a great job on the carbonara. Shinjiro thought about making some sort of quip to that effect—‘looks like I taught you well’ or something along those lines—but when she glanced across the table and asked him a question, it took him by surprise. He hastily swallowed the rest of the pasta before raising an eyebrow at Minako.

“Why did I come to Prava?” he repeated, blinking a few times as he glanced off to the side. A frown crossed his face as he considered how to best answer the question with revealing more than Minako probably wanted to know, which was tricky because there was a lot about his past that could be considered troubling at best. When his eyes settled upon her again he wore a frown that was briefly thoughtful and discerning in nature, as if he was trying to figure out just how much she wanted to know through that simple question.

“When I left Japan, I wasn’t setting out to work at a bakery, that’s for sure,” he laughed, although the troubled youth he had been when he left probably wouldn’t have found that funny. “And I guess you could say that I ‘studied’ cooking. I spent a lot of time backpacking across Europe, and after a few months of wandering I decided to get a job in a restaurant. Nothing fancy, but one of the chefs there noticed that I was passionate about food and got me an in to go watch one of his pattisier friends at work. The rest of the pieces just sort of… came together after that. I got lucky at Goodnight Sweets, to be honest."

When Akihiko threw his punches he feels empty and insecure, like a battler without the will to fight nor the weapon to fight with. Soon enough, he ends up kicking more than punching despite talking about boxing. Gradually, the punches decreased and the kicks took its place, foot nimbly kicking and jumping and hopping, but then stopped. Just when Akihiko was talking about a left cross, his right palm was subconsciously rubbing again his left knuckles, as if he is ready to beat the shit out of someone while it’s really Akihiko’s habit of rubbing his hand against a brass knuckle he tends to wear whenever the heir is threatened.

It’s still in Akihiko’s vest pocket as a reminder of his time at that family, its sharp edges threatening to cut him. It is sharp after all, a small sharp pyramid-shaped metal at each knuckle, leaving four specifically shaped cuts on whatever it meets. Rubbing it gently wouldn’t hurt, but Akihiko did get himself cut by it before, leaving a small scar there, a diagonal line across his palm. The brass knuckle is like like a paw with claws, except the claws are far too short.

The jingle of keys triggered a memory not long ago. It was the time when Akihiko moved here and it was his first time holding a key. His own key to his own house! The freedom after so many years. Said key is in his other vest pocket, which he will cherish as long as he owns the apartment unit he lives in. The heir that Akihiko was taking care of had his keys to the mansion when he himself is seventeen and Akihiko is not allowed to have it. As much as they trust him, they can’t risk having him to leave the mansion when they are both in the mansion.

Come to think of it, Akihiko wonders where Shinji lives. If he never got adopted and he doubt the orphanage will give him enough money to be independent, so with this job Shinji have, perhaps he’s living at the poorest part of Prava.

“Huh, I guess when you say you did your best you mean it,” Akihiko mumbled. “But I guess at some point they have to learn to fend for themselves.” Akihiko frowned. As much as he want to protect them, he can’t right now nor anytime soon, heck he most probably won’t know most of them by now, it have been six years after all, a kid may be well of in his or her preparation on adolescence and those around Shinji’s age are well, like the orphanage will keep a 19-year old. Maybe he should drag Shinjiro to the orphanage when Akihiko’s having summer vacation. Come to think of it, he’s going to be a third year quite soon.

Not that Shinjiro could judge. Most of those six years had been hell on earth, and it was only recently that he had been able to piece together a new life for himself bit by bit. He had an inkling that Akihiko had gone through something similar, but it had been so long since they last spoke that he was uncomfortable with asking about it. Surely Akihiko had closer friends, people he could confide in that weren’t the shaggy-haired, delinquent-in-the-making thirteen-year old he had left behind at the orphanage. He would probably just be prying anyway.

With a sigh, Shinjiro shook his head, maneuvering his free hand away from the pack of cigarettes he kept in his pocket before glancing back over at Akihiko. When the platinum-haired teen retorted with a comment about how it wouldn’t be an easy fight, a small smile flashed across Shinjiro’s face. “Damn straight I still have some tricks up my sleeve… as well as a killer head-butt. That never changed, that’s for sure.”

It was a little embarrassing that Akihiko had caught him unprepared at the bakery—although his old friend didn’t seem to particularly mind,  he knew it probably looked a little odd that the ‘rough around the edges’ kid he had grown up with was now making fancy desserts for a living. With a sigh, Shinjiro gestured towards the entrance of the Holy Ramen Empire, which now loomed right in front of them.

“Also, I am pretty sure Mr. K knows exactly what he is doing. He claims to be a good judge of people, but he ended up hiring me so… who could say.” Shinjiro watched as Minako dumped the boiling water out of the pot and into the sink, relieved that she had chosen that moment to briefly fill the kitchen up with steam as she made her last comment about getting hired by the maid cafe. Any change in his facial coloring at that moment to something a little more red would no doubt have been due to all the steam. “That’s, uhh… not exactly what I was trying to say, but… yeah. I think they would.” 

“SOU, huh? That’s the really nice one in the Saint District, right? Do you know what you’re going to study yet?” He winced, realizing he was being maybe a little bit too ‘parental’ despite his genuine curiosity. As Minako continued working at the stove, occasionally surveying each pan and mixing one here and there, Shinjiro stepped away to give her some space, gently nudging Koromaru along with the side of his leg as well. The happy white shiba looked up at him and panted, nonplussed, before scooting back around his leg and returning to Minako’s side. Shinjiro shook his head and crossed his arms as Koromaru waved his tail in return.

“Kosoglad will be very sorry to hear that,” Shinjiro smirked, a light roll of his eyes punctuating the end of his sentence. “Not that that will stop him from trying. But Lune seems like a nice place. I’ve never been—probably can’t afford it—but you seem like the type of person they’d jump to hire.”

The dark-haired man glanced away briefly, a look of relief flashing over his face before he reached back towards the cupboard overlooking the sink and began pulling out a few mismatched plates in preparation. So she would be staying, then. This revelation lifted a small but somewhat persistent weight that had rested itself on his shoulders, for just how long he couldn't possibly have told you, but it had happened suddenly and was otherwise unannounced. 

He watched her lean into the fridge and grimaced at just how empty it had become over the past few weeks. A mental note was made to go grocery shopping—at some point—and when she returned to the stove with flour and the parmesan cheese he nodded. “I’ll leave you to it, then. What are you making, anyway? I can see if I can come up with some sort of side-dish for it, if we want one.”

Steel gray eyes darted back to the fridge and narrowed, as if Shinjiro suddenly realized that would require being able to work miracles. With a small sigh, he took a step away from the stove and reached for the pantry, quickly taking inventory of what was inside while occasionally stealing glances at Minako and taking note of the conflicted expression on her face.

“That’s got to be a weird feeling. Graduating, anyway,” Shinjiro frowned, eyes falling on a can of tomatoes nestled in the back of the pantry and resting there for a few seconds. That particular feeling was one that he would never experience, at any rate, although his high school years had been a constant flux of bad decisions and major life changes. He did know how it felt to abruptly abandon one stage of life and move on to the next, leaving the safety of what was comfortable and jumping blindly into the unknown future, which was decidedly not. Minako was at the stage where she was poised to make the jump, and although he was curious as to where and what she intended to jump to—had been curious for a while now, actually—he had never gotten the opportunity to ask ‘so, what’s next?’ without feeling as if he would be prying or stepping over some sort of unspoken boundary.

"Up. Up! Good boy." Holding onto the leash with one hand, Minako carefully guided the overgrown puppy up the stairs, making sure he didn’t rush and trip in overeager enthusiasm. He’d already chipped a fang doing that when he’d faceplanted once before after miscalculating his footing, but, thankfully, it had only been a milk tooth. She’d felt so awful about it, though, until Shinjiro had pointed out that Koromaru hadn’t seemed to care after he’d shaken off the surprise.

Staircase Plaza after sundown was not one of the places where she’d ever imagined herself becoming so comfortable and well-acquainted that she could nod in familiar greeting with people exiting their homes as she walked her dog, but, then, she hadn’t expected to have a dog, either. Minako shortened the leash slightly, juggling around so that in one quick movement she pulled out Shinjiro’s key, opened the door to his apartment, and with a gentle push with the flat side of her foot urged the shiba inu inside before he got any funny ideas about trying to continue their evening walk down the hallway. 

"In." She murmured, gently but with firm control, shutting and locking the door behind her. The apartment was the same as she had left it a few minutes before, lights turned on to ambient, illumination enough to get around easily and yet not so blinding that someone coming in from the twilight darkness outside would find themselves blinded. 

The redhead bent down and unhooked the end of the leash from the harness, giving Koromaru a good scratch behind the ears for good behavior. The vest, white with little wings attached to it, had been her idea when he’d grown large enough that she could find a size to fit him. The wings had come on extra. Sure, the claw machine had won, and the toy was long gone, probably in some kid’s messy room, but that was fine, she now had the real life version and that was much better. 

By the casual, comfortable way she moved around the small apartment, it was apparent that she’d spent long hours there across the months. Without preamble she stepped into the tiny kitchen, fetching a box of bacon-flavored dog treats from a shelf and tossing one gently at the puppy. He snapped it in midair with jaws that were already powerful enough to strike fear into anyone unwary and careless enough to make sudden moves in her direction when she gave him his daily walk.

As he slowly descended the namesake staircase that connected his ‘apartment complex’ to the main street, Shinjiro finished off his cigarette and let one final puff of smoke escape from between his lips.  He was pretty sure that the trashcan with the ash-tray at the bottom of the stairs was almost solely filled with the evidence of his evening nicotine fixes, and with an unceremonious shrug he contributed one more cigarette to the steadily growing pile, grounding the lit end into the ashtray until the orange ember was extinguished. He contributed to the pile far less these days—maybe two or three times a week at most—but after working from dawn to dusk, sometimes he needed a boost to give him the energy and motivation to crawl home.

Not that the fluffy white shiba inu who was no doubt whining for him up in his apartment right now wasn’t motivation enough. With a cursory glance toward his building, steel gray eyes travelled up the side before settling on his own window on the second floor. At first he almost concluded that his eyes were deceiving him. Having been up on his feet for the past twelve hours, it wouldn’t have surprised him, but after a few firm blinks it became apparent that the lights were definitely on. Unless Koromaru’s acrobatics and fine motor skills had improved vastly since that morning when the young shiba had stumbled clumsily over his own four paws in his haste to be fed, it was likely that he had a visitor.

P３落書き　＜ぎゅっ3

"Six years… but it feels like sixteen years to me," Akihiko said looking at Shinjiro at the eyes. The tears have dried, leaving Akihiko’s eyes with a slight reddish tint, as if he just chopped an onion or two. Grey eyes met grey, as Shinjiro had the same eye color as Akihiko. Which once lead a misconception that the two were brothers as one of the younger ones in the orphanage asked Akihiko before. Akihiko was taken by surprised back then. Him and Shinjiro brothers? That’s something nice to think of. They are almost like brothers, even if they weren’t related before. But six years can change many things.

Did Shinjiro changed? Based on appearance, Akihiko doubt it. Sure, longer hair, a new beanie… but still looks the same old Shinjiro. Mature, intimidating and easily mistaken as a delinquent. Did he really become one when Akihiko got adopted? Akihiko feel bad, leaving Shinjiro alone for six whole years, but then if he insist on staying at the orphanage, the reverse might happen with Shinjiro being adopted instead and him alone. During his time working for the rich family, his mind constantly backtracks to his memories at the orphanage, especially his memories with Shinjiro. His freedom locked away by that rich family while those in the orphanage have more freedom that him. Good times…

Time? Akihiko looked at the clock. Oh! That late already? He felt a pat on the shoulder and got directed to the exit of the bakery. Catch up on ramen? That’s what they did few days before Akihiko got adopted too. They were celebrating their first year in junior high after all. “Sure, some ramen is fine,” Akihiko said calmly. But inside he’s panicking, quite unlike before a match in a tournament.

Akihiko looked away, he knew this would come up sooner or later. “Things aren’t they seems. Instead of being their son, I’m more of a servant over there just like in those movies where you see where there’s always someone next to that rich kid. Instead of protecting those at the orphanage, I’m stuck to protecting and teaching that guy how to defend himself, that one guy, the family’s heir… I got paid for it, and they were kind, but… it’s definitely not a family and not what I wanted. Sometimes I just wish I was back at the orphanage again. Did someone protect them while I was gone? Or…”

Akihiko shook his head, not willing to think about it. It’s bound to happen at some point, he can’t protect everyone forever, they have to learn and defend themselves at some point. If they rely on him forever, he’ll collapse at some point. Grateful that Shinjiro changed the topic, Akihiko became excited as he rambled on about boxing.

Instead, he removed a ring of keys from his pocket and kept his faintly jittery fingers busy with that, expertly twirling the metal ring around his right index finger as the keys jingled and scraped together occasionally. Although he didn’t look at Akihiko directly as the silver-haired male began speaking, Shinjiro studied him from the corners of his eyes, taking careful note of the other’s expressions as he began to explain what it was like when he had been adopted.

When Akihiko asked if someone had taken care of the other kids at the orphanage after he had left, the dark-haired male shook his head, a frown darkening his features. “I did my best. While I was there, anyway. Eventually I decided to leave, but I still kept an eye on the younger kids. After a while I stopped going to school, so I had a lot of time to make sure any stupid kid who tried to bully any of them paid the price.”

Shinjiro laughed dryly, as if the memory was both a fond one and one that made him cringe, before turning his head and looking at Akihiko directly this time. “Your ‘family’ sounds like hell. You’re a more patient soul than I am, because I would have ran away from that kind of life a long time ago. Do you still work for them, or are you free now?” Shinjiro shook his head, as if just the very idea of being a rich family’s servant and bodyguard was unfathomable to him. He had never taken lightly to being ordered around, but he had a feeling he valued ‘freedom’ a lot more than most others. Akihiko had always been more obedient than he was—he was a good kid—but no one deserved to be treated like that by a family that was supposed to be taking care of them, not employing them.

"Uh… right," Akihiko mumbled as he sniffed. Walking towards the other, Akihiko is grateful that it’s almost closing time as there are less people to see him at this state. Shinjiro was right, things never changed and he unknowingly embarrassed himself again. Akihiko is a coin, one side is your confident upperclassman, the other is a less matured side which not many get to see. Walking towards the other, man did Shinjiro got way way taller than him, Akihiko panicked, heart beating quicker than before. Butterfly seems to fill the boxer’s stomach with each step closer to the intimidating baker.

How does one greet an old friend that you have never seen for more than half a decade? Akihiko certainly don’t know as he walked towards the other. It feels like it takes forever to reach Shinjiro, but without knowing it, Akihiko was right in front of him, tears now dried.

"It’s been a while isn’t it, Shinji?" Akihiko said, trying his very best to not make this an awkward reunion. He gave a happy smile, unlike one he always gives to strangers, this truly shows that this is one happy red vested boxer. He feel like breaking down again out of relief and joy, but he feared that this might ruin the moment between them. Should he give the other a hug?

Might as well, since Akihiko might never see him again. And with that he wrapped his arms around the other, giving him a tight warm embrace. “I missed you Shinji… I really do. Things aren’t they seem to be…”

"It was fun and all being adopted, but after a while it sucks and all I want is all the people in the orphanage and me as one of them. Especially you…" Akihiko said whatever that first came into his mind. So what if it ruined the moment? He have so many things to tell Shinjiro and he hoped the other did the same. He had wasted 7 years without Shinjiro, and he would like to catch up. Did Shinjiro changed much? Akihiko guessed not. But since he didn’t see him in college, did something happen? Did Shinjiro didn’t get adopted and now lives independently?

“Yeah, it’s been, what… six years or so?” Shinjiro nodded, noting the mixture of emotions that crossed Akihiko’s face before the other man finally stepped forward and hugged him. With a small sigh, Shinjiro hugged him back briefly before pulling away and glancing up at the clock. It was almost closing time and he had started the clean-up process earlier in the evening anyway, so when he gave the clerk a pointed glance the clerk responded by gesturing towards the door. He would be good to go for the evening.

With a small, thankful nod to the clerk, Shinjiro patted Akihiko on the shoulder and directed him towards the door to the bakery. “Here, I’m off for the night anyway. Do you want to go catch up over ramen or something?”

As they walked outside, the dark-haired man let the door shut behind them with a gentle click before glancing back over at the other male, a curious expression on his face. “You know… we missed you after you left. We were all pretty jealous when you got adopted… happy for you, but jealous. Was it nice to finally have a family of sorts?”

Shinjiro shrugged and raised his hand to the back of his neck. Although his outer demeanor was as stern and stoic as ever, on the inside he was nervous. He had gone through a hard time after Akihiko had left, and he was pretty sure his old friend never knew about his delinquent days in late junior high and early senior high. Not that he had any idea of what Akihiko had been up to during that time period, but he was willing to bet it was a lot less self-destructive than what he had been doing.

He watched as Minako first considered the coffee he brought for her and raised an eyebrow when she compared it to a frappe. That… was certainly one way to put it. Shinjiro didn’t even bother to hide his wince of commiseration as she tilted her head back and chugged down the sweetly stale and lukewarm coffee. Somehow she managed to drain the whole thing without even bothering to come up for air, and when she tilted her head back down and removed the cup from her lips he noticed that she seemed a little more ‘together.’

The dark-haired man shook his head slowly, a crooked smiled crossing his face. “That… looked pretty intense. I don’t think I envy your taste-buds at all right now.” Shinjiro was pretty sure it should be illegal to drink forgotten coffee that had been allowed to slowly cool down to room-temperature, although he tended to be a purist in terms of liking his coffee tongue-scalding hot and with just a hint of added sweetness.

“Oi. You think I’m going to call you out for not paying?” Shinjiro snorted, lowering his voice for his next statement so Kosoglad wouldn’t be able to hear it so easily. “It’s an uphill battle every time I try to sneak you something for free. Let me have my occasional victories.” Ever since the Goodnight Sweets credit card machine had broken, however, he had an idea as for how he could score some easy wins in the future. It sure would be a pity if the machine were to magically break every time Minako set foot in the bakery.

Steel gray eyes traced the arc of the plastic coffee cup as it made its way into the trash, and the corners of Shinjiro’s mouth twitched upward as the cup landed safely inside with a soft ‘fwoosh’ of rustling plastic. When she asked him if he was ready to go, he nodded eagerly, one hand already inching up to un-knot the tie from around his neck.

“Been ready for the past few hours, honestly. You’re probably not hungry yet, but did you want me to make something later? Or I guess we could we could go grab food from somewhere.” The latter suggestion was punctuated by a wince and a stern frown, although not too stern as he had been working all day and would happily eat anything he could get his hands on at that point, even if it was fast food. 

Shinjiro sensed more than actually felt Minako stumble behind him, and with a confused look he glanced over his shoulder at her.  When his gray eyes happened upon back of the swiftly departing Mad Hatter, a dark expression fell across his face before he shook his head and reached for her arm. What the hell? If Shinjiro wasn’t still technically on the clock, he would have had some choice words in store for him.

ー「 Title means Reunion [Akihiko + Shinjiro] 」ー

At the city of Prava, founded by founders who fated to meet one another after a long time of distance, Akihiko was surprised to find a familiar face here. He saw Mitsuru on the city’s Entertainment District before, but didn’t do anything, not even a word of hi. It’s like that time in junior high, complete deja vu.

After all, that’s all he did when he was in junior high, staring at the red-head woman from afar, never manage to get the chance to talk to her, nor did she approached him.

But this time, in a bakery that Akihiko visited the second time, it’s a familiar face and yet it’s as if he had seen it the first time. A dreadful sense of jamais vu washed upon Akihiko as he noticed the one who made all this delicacies that he bought from Goodnight Sweets.

Shinjiro Aragaki, sure he looks a lot older, but that intimidating face that hides a kind smile is what Akihiko held the tightest in his memories of the time he was in the orphanage. Pastries of various kind have their delicious scent wafted in the air, but it doesn’t matter for now as tears flowed out from the boxer at the sight of an old friend. He’s not even sure whether they are still friends. That’s why the nagging feeling of jamais vu frustrates Akihiko.

He seen Shinjiro many times in the orphanage, so why does it feel like this is the first time he met this young man?

“暫くですね、シンジ…”

With a sigh, the dark-haired man finished helping the last person in line, looking forward to the arrival of the replacement clerk they had called in to work that afternoon. After dusting off his hands on the bottom of his apron, he glanced over at the other clerk and nodded, his face stern.

“Thanks for working hard today,” he began, his stern expression slowly giving way to a faint smile. The stream of customers had slowed down enough that he finally had time to get some actual work done.

When he stepped back towards the kitchen, a glint of silver caught his eye. Turning slightly on his heel, Shinjiro glanced over towards the door and was shocked to see a familiar face. A face he hadn’t seen in a very long time, and wasn’t sure that he ever would see again. He became distantly aware that his hands had fallen back to his sides.

Akihiko Sanada, his childhood friend who he grew up with in the orphanage, had been adopted in junior high. Shinjiro hadn’t seen his old friend since, although a lot of things had happened in high school after the other boy had left. A lot of bad things, most of which Shinjiro had been relieved Akihiko hadn’t been around to witness. With a quiet ‘tch,’ the dark-haired man looked over his friend and shook his head when he noticed the tears currently coursing down the other’s face. Some things never changed, he supposed.

When Minako confirmed that Kosoglad really was nowhere in sight, Shinjiro glanced back in the direction of the staff area, expression reluctantly hopeful, before he turned back to face her. “He said we’d be good to go once we finished cleaning up and getting the supplies ready for transport. But if he’s not wandering around here tempting party-guests to visit GNS with the promise of a stellar tiramisu and more napoleon flavors you could ever want, my guess is that he’s started the process already.”

That would be all the better for him. The sooner they could get out of there and acquire real food that wasn’t entirely composed of sugar, flour, and cream, the better. Also, the prospect of being able to finally sit down was starting to look more attractive by the second.

With a sigh, he reached forward to pick up his tray and the trace amount of crumbs left upon it. Kosoglad would be very pleased with them all tonight, at the very least. Business had been slowing down since February, but if only a quarter of the people they had given desserts to that night stopped by Goodnight Sweets in the next few weeks, Kosoglad would be one happy camper. And when the boss was happy, everyone was happy.

Once the tray was steadied on his hand, Shinjiro turned back to Minako and nodded. “So, I guess I’ll go check back there and see what the deal is. I can’t imagine we have too much left to do if Kosoglad already started getting ready.” With a small grin, he tilted his head towards the staff area. “You can wait here for me if you want. Although now that I’m not kneeling next to a table to hide from Kosoglad, he probably won’t mind if you come back with me.”

{ ☪ }  The albino simply shot him a grin, as he took a sip.  He washes his hands, seeing as they were always sticky after making that drink.  Mainly from the lemon juice that sometimes splashed while he was making it, causing him to clean it up.  It was irritating for other bartenders to make, as he usually heard complaints from them but, the complicated, the better.  It kept his own interest within the job.  

"Glad you think so, Sweets-chan!"  Byakuran responded back, a short chuckle escaping him as he rinsed out the metal cylinder used to mix the drink.  Wiping his hands on the towel when he was finished, another playful smirk appeared onto his features as he mentioned poisoning the drink.  

The whole phone incident that happened at Good Night’s Sweet had passed over, since the brunette hadn’t really caused any harm.  Opening a text message was far less threatening then what people could do.  It really had slipped his mind until the brunette talked about pay back.  

A smirk came into play as he looked at the other before letting out a chuckle and a shrug in response.  ”I didn’t realize you wanted some payback, Sweets-chan~”  Crossing his arms he titled his head lightly, giving him a another smile as lavender hues became focus on gray ones.  ”I was just gonna let it slide, but if you want some payback inflicted on yourself I wouldn’t mind.”  

When the albino asked him what brought him there to the Garden of Eden that evening, Shinjiro raised his martini glass once more. This time he swirled the glass in his hand and watched the bright yellow liquid catch the lights above the bar. He studied the cocktail for a few seconds before shrugging and taking another long sip, a more weary expression appearing on his face than he might have realized.

“Long day at work, I guess. I was going to visit the arcade in order to let off some steam, but I ended up getting lost and found myself here. Thought the place looked interesting and, welp, here I am. Bothering you.”

Shinjiro rested the halfway-finished martini back on the bar and chuckled. The lemon drop Byakuran had made for him was so delicious it was a little dangerous. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be red-faced within the hour, and nothing good ever happened from him being overly tipsy. Well, except maybe running into redheads at a masquerade, but lightning tended not to strike twice and he didn’t want to test his luck.