“What.” you hoarsely spoke, leaning back on your elbows, reaching over your shoulder to grab a water bottle.

“May I come in?”.

You almost laughed at the stiff words. It must be weird to show so much distance to your former girlfriend and current roommate.

“Whatever,” you snorted, throwing your legs over the bed, tilting your head back as you chugged half of your water.

The door slowly opened, curious and hesitant eyes found your own. His honey eyes were dull, a glint of suppressed annoyance lingering in his gaze as he took in your defensive gaze. He barely took a step into the room before stopping in his tracks, awkwardness painted all over his body. Big, black Razer Sony headphones hung over his neck, his hands tucked into the deep pockets of his gray sweatpants. His shirt was one size too big, something that he had found more comfortable, especially when streaming.

“A shame” you had once teased, as you looked at his choice of outfit for stream. He had merely looked at you with a gaze oozing irritation. 

“What do you want?” 

The words came out sharper than you had meant, an apology lingering like a sour grape on the tip of your tongue.

Any hesitance was short-lived at your icy words, his own eyes becoming as cool as ice.

“I have a stream at five,” he gave you an obvious look-over, eyes pausing at the bruises on your exposed legs, “At least try to look nice.”

You snorted, flipping him off.

“It was a one-time thing, Kozume.” you retorted.

“No.” his jaw clenched at your pure stone-cold glare. ice that raged in your eyes. “We agreed that we would continue streams till the end of our lease.”

“I have no interest in faking affection just for you to have a good image,” you snarled as Kenma rolled his eyes. The lithe muscles in his biceps flexed as he ran a hand through his messy hair.

“Of course you don’t care about a good image.”

He motioned to your unruly hair. To the dark circles that seemed tattooed into your skin. To the dullness that now echoed in your skin. 

It was a low blow. And he knew it. And yet… as you stared at his unwavering eyes. You knew he didn’t give one damn.

You snorted, your lips trembling as you waved your hand.

“I’ll do it, just stop talking.”

“You’re a nuisance annoying.” he seethed, tugging on his hair as if you were driving him insane.

“I just said that I'll do it. What else do you want.” you snapped. The unsaid words lingered in your head. On the very tip of your throat.

I was in the hospital. Do you not even care?

He rolled his eyes again.

“Stop acting like you’re doing me a favour,” he looked down at you. You flinched at the pure, unfiltered disdain that filled his features. At the eyes burning like the flames of the eternally burning sun. At the lips that trembled in rage. At the fingers that tightly clutched his black shirt.

“And I’m not?” you spitefully fought back. It was not a wise choice, you knew that. It was rare—so rare that rage ever filled Kenma’s features. If anything he had always been the more calm, peaceful of the two of you, always deciding to deal with confrontations in a pacifist approach. 

It would be better if you shut your mouth. Be the submissive person you knew he wanted you to be. But it was the strike of your pride that edged you on. 

“If you would be honest and just tell your viewers we broke up, then it wouldn’t be such a hassle.” 

It hurt more than it annoyed you. Pretending that you and Kenma were still in a relationship. Still in love. It was ironic, you had thought, when he gave you more attention than he did when you were in a genuine relationship. From the small pecks, he gave on your forehead. To the small smiles, he faked when he looked at you during the stream. His affection seemed like an on and off switch. The love you had received on stream immediately descended to scorn and mockery as he merely nodded for you to leave the room.

You watched Kenma carefully, waiting for the blow that was sure to come. 

“You’re freeloading off of me,” he scoffed, “Can you even pay for your breakfast?”

You stayed quiet at the venom that spitted from his sharp tongue. 

“I can,” you quietly said, refusing to let the anger consume your words.

“With what job,” he mocked, “The one that pays 700 yen an hour?”

A furious blush ran down your neck. You wondered how many low blows it would take for you to break down completely. 

“It’s still a job,” you scowled.

It was hard to say anything back to that. He wasn’t fully wrong. It was a very low-paying job, a minimum wage job that seemed to have more cons than pros. But, it was all you could do. With your half-finished university degrees. It would be a shameful burden, among the many others, that you would bear. 

“Sure.” his eyes seem to always be rolling at this point. He backed up, hands reaching behind him to touch the handle of the door. He gave you one more look.

“You were taking a break from social media for a week, that’s why you haven’t shown up on my streams.” And with that, he slammed the door, before shuffling back to his room.

You scoffed. 

“Sure,” you muttered to the closed door.

A low dull rhythm echoed in your head, as you tucked in your legs, resting your cheek on your knee. Maybe one day, the universe wouldn’t bet against you.

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You woke up with a pain in your neck and a broken heart. Sleep, although something you desired in the back of your head, was not your greatest friend. On the best days, you found yourself in a fruitless sleep, filled with a void of darkness and silence. On the worst days, harrowing and blurry images raced through your head. Unfamiliar actions and words always made you wake up with sweat dripping down your neck. The nightmares served as a reminder of the heaviest of burdens on your shoulders. Of the shame that brought with every breath. You stared blankly at the walls, contemplating your next move. 

Groggily, you arose and walked to the kitchen. Scrummaging for any snacks. There was nothing, except for the powder milkshakes Kenma always seemed to have a stock of. The clicking clock seemed to mock you with every move. The small hand stayed still at 12 and the long hand trembled as it switched between 3 and 4. The clock, from what you observed, had been broken since Kenma had brought it on. And yet he refused to replace it.

You snorted as you closed the door, daring to peek at the sink. You sighed as you spotted the messy dishes, a pile continuously growing. That pile indeed would never disappear without you doing it. For a man who you were seemingly freeloading of, he seems inadequate to perform even the most basic of housework. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you groaned. You hadn’t eaten since the previous morning and you didn’t get a chance to eat after your “conversation” with Kenma. You turned on the tap, popping open the bottle of dish soap. You scrubbed the dishes, rising and washing all the dishes in a mere ten minutes. You hated doing the dishes. It felt unclean. Disgusting. You could almost feel the grime under your fingernails when you had finished. And no soap seemed to get rid of the feeling of uncleanness under your nails. On your fingers. You shivered in disgust. You scrubbed your fingers under hot water, muttering small curses under your breath.

“What are you doing?” You stepped back, dropping the bar of soap you were using.

“Being a freeloader,” you snarkily responded, as you went back to clean your hands once more. You stared at your fingers.

“Stop wasting water.” he rolled his eyes, as he opened an oak wood cupboard, taking out a cup.

“Is that why you never wash the dishes?” you snorted as you closed the tap, wiping your hands on your sweatpants. Your only response was an exasperated look. A pregnant silence settled in the kitchen. The only sound coming from the quiet trickling of the water dispenser. You shuffled your feet. There was no reason for you to be in the room. To stay. He never asked you to. But he hadn’t asked you to leave. 

Yet.

Your eyes trailed from the floor to the small crack of skin exposed as he downed the cup of water at once. You watched a small droplet of water dribble from the corner of his mouth. At the man bun that was coming apart, strands of black and blonde curling slightly at the end.

“Are you just going to stare?” he placed the cup in the sink before walking past you, back into his room.

“Creep.” you heard him huff before the sharp sound of a closed-door echoed in your ears. It was a slap in your face. Embarrassment pooled in your stomach as you quickly went to the sink, rinsing the cup before walking back to your room. You quietly closed the door, jumping on the bed. The quiet creaks of the mattress hid your sniffles.

 Hiding the quiet, invisible call for help.

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Words couldn’t describe the pain you were in right now. Although many of the bruises on your leg were healed, it didn’t stop the random slaps of pain that shocked through your legs. Standing for almost 7 hours didn’t help the matter. But there was not much room to complain between the fake smiles you were forced to plaster onto your face. It was the most you had smiled in years, your cheeks stretching painfully as you waved goodbye to a customer. Your smile almost immediately dropped as the last of the rush hour customers had passed, ordering their coffees quickly.

 You didn’t dislike the job although you were sure there were better ones out there. But it wasn’t the worst. The place itself was pleasurable to the eyes. Soft pastel colors bloomed in the small, modest coffee shop. Light floral pink walls were illuminated by circular bulbs of pale white light. Coral green swirls of colour painted intricate designs on the walls, small dots added under the small designs, drawing a dotted line all across the wall. Pale pink stools were stuffed under small circular tables. Pale green stems of the mauve lily stood out amongst the mostly pink furniture. The café was almost empty except for a few elderly people who comfortably leaned back in some of the chairs, laughing amongst themselves as they sipped their coffee from plastic, pink cups. Soft, lyricless music played in the café, drowning the small place in a peaceful sort of quiet. It was the sort of ambience you wished you could have back at the apartment. You almost found yourself humming along with the music. Almost.

“The barista might have forgotten your name, but I sure haven’t.”

You groaned at the cheesy words that ruined the quiet little happiness that had been unfurling in your chest. A blooming flower stopped in its tracks.

“I am the barista,” you muttered, as you walked away from the register. You brought your hands to the loosely tied apron, quickly taking both ends and pulling it tighter. You didn’t look at the man, who merely gave you a small pout as you backed away from him. You couldn’t tell which was more painful. Kai’s corny, stupid jokes. Or the standing you had to deal with for a mere 700 yen.

“But it was good right,” you turned around, throwing him a glare before rolling your eyes. 

“No.”

“Y/N,” he whined cutely, the pout growing on his plump, pink lips. You only rolled your eyes again.

“Go back to work Kai,” you muttered as you ran a finger down the clean slabs of pale pink granite.

He sighed, running a toned, sun-kissed arm through his strikingly pale blonde hair. The contrast between his caramel skin and his naturally light hair always made you stop in your tracks. He didn’t have the worst of faces, you concluded, as you turned around sticking your tongue out at him. The smirk that grew on his face, made your cheeks bloom with embarrassment, the thumping of your chest becoming slightly erratic. His bronze eyes crinkled around the corners as his smirk grew into a genuine smile.

“It’s only a matter of time,” he teased, giving you a wink that would have made any other girl swoon. You raised your eyebrows, gaze narrowing as you gave him a once over.

Dissatisfaction pooled in your eyes as you gazed at his face.

“You sure about that one?” your gaze only narrowed more at his confident smirk. He thumped his broad chest, hand resting on his heart as he smirked at you.

“For sure.” he grinned, “Thousand yen”

Your eyes gazed at the small, leafy bill that sat tauntingly on the counter. You bit your lips.

The easiest thousand yen of your life. You grinned, hand reaching out, as Kai quickly snatched the note back, stuffing it in his pockets.

“You, sir, have got yourself a deal.”

He gave you a toothy grin as he grabbed your hand.

For a man who spent his workdays behind a counter making coffees, his hands were surprisingly rough and calloused.

“You’ll be asking me out before this month is over,” he added, daring you to take back the deal you had just made. 

“Don’t get your hopes up, buddy.” you rolled your eyes, “I’m taken.”

It was a sour lie to say, but it had to be done.

He merely laughed, eyes sparkling a sly grin overtaking the toothy one he had on before. Glancing at the calendar, Kai threw you another grin.

“We’ll see about that in thirty days.”

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Exhaustion crept on you like a cat on its prey. Today, like most Mondays, was a rush hour. Though you found the evenings much more tiresome than the morning. In the morning, frantic office workers barged in, quickly ordering their coffee and leaving. Afternoons were much quieter, the rare elderly person walking in with a grin and a roll of the most recent newspaper. Evenings, however, made you want to pull your hair out. Especially as tides of high school girls, finally leaving their dreaded classrooms, rushed in. It took hours to even get their orders. Most of the time was spent with flirtatious conversations with Kai, who seemed pleased at the compliments that fluttered his way. The girls with more bravado, bracingly asked for his hand in marriage, no sight of humor glistening in their eyes.

You sighed, muttering under your breath, as you trudged to the small room in the back. Pulling out your phone, you always swore at the bombardments of messages and notifications that drowned your notification bar. You sat down, slumping down on the dark couch as you swiped through.

Emails of probable work applications were immediately swiped off. There was no point in looking for a job when you would immediately be denied. Notifications from your other apps were also immediately swept away. It had been months since you opened Instagram or Snapchat. Not like there were any important conversations on there, you reasoned, as you scrolled further down the notifications. Your eyes widened in pleasant surprise at the few messages from Akaashi, glad that you had remembered to name his contact. But before you could see what Akaashi had sent you, your screen flashed. Your ringtone echoed in the empty room. You almost dropped your phone as your eyes caught the name.

Kenma Kozume.

You scrunch your eyes in confusion.

Tentatively you accepted his call, putting it on speaker.

“He--”

“Where are you?” There was a sort of franticness in his voice as he spoke. As if he was worried about you.

Knowing Kenma that probably wasn’t the case.

“At work?”

He huffed scornfully.

His voice was coated in a thick layer of venom as he spoke.

“Can you not do anything right? I legit only asked, for one thing, L/N.” he snarled, his voice quiet as if he didn’t want anyone to hear.

“What?”

You were confused. You had made him his daily meal, with the type of rice he liked. You even added the meat that he adored. Maybe it was the meat, you thought in apprehension. 

Oh god, was it half-cooked?’

I knew I shouldn’t have rushed it this morning.

“It’s almost five and you’re still at work?”

You glanced at your phone. A glaring 4:30 scoffed back at you.

“So?”

“You’re supposed to be on my stream at five.” 

Oh.

“So it wasn’t the meat then,” you muttered quietly.

“It only takes me ten minutes, Kozume.” you rubbed your temples, “Calm down.”

“And it’ll take you an hour to get ready,” he snarky replied. You could hear the bitterness in his voice, sending shivers down your spine.

“No it won’t, stop being dramatic.” you sighed. Throwing your head back on the couch, you groaned.

“Something wrong, hot stuff?” you paused, jerking your phone behind you as you jerked up. You sighed, meeting Kai’s curious eyes. 

How much had he heard?

“Nothing, but I might have to leave right now,” you explained to him, as you took the phone off the speaker. “My boyfriend needs me right now.” Something dark lingered in his eyes before it was gone in a heartbeat.

“No worries, I can close the café L/N.” he gave a small smile before walking back to his wooing harem of girls. You mouthed him thanks, letting slight appreciation gleam in your eyes as you put the phone back in your ear.

“Is that what you do in work,” he scoffed, “Seduce people. Is that why you go there, to sleep with them like a---”

“Shut up.” you icily said. “I’ll be there in a few.”

You hung the phone Kenma could continue his ill rant.

Your heart pounded. At the apprehension of being caught. You didn’t know why you felt this way. Didn’t know why this guilt lingered as you walked away from Kai. At the gaze, Kai kept on the hoard of girls as you walked out the door. It was a reminder to him, you supposed, that you were indeed a taken woman.

And a small part of you wished you didn’t have to lie like that.

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