sol et luna sum

Makoto Tachibana’s life has a fairly regular rhythm – slightly boring, even. When he’s not in lectures on whatever classic they’re studying that semester, he’s working part-time at a bakery near the college campus, and when he’s not working, he’s back at his apartment, studying and reading. He couldn’t complain, though; he enjoyed college, and his professor, Miss Amakata, was sweet and intelligent. And he liked his job, too, even if it was exhausting and he always managed to spill a drink or drop a cookie.

Today, the bakery was pretty much dead, similar to how Makoto felt. He’d had to pull an all nighter to finish Love in the Time of Cholera, as he’d been a couple chapters behind the rest of his class for weeks. Makoto loved Marquez’s writing style, but right now he was barely able to keep his eyes open.

“Haru-chan, are you alright?”

Makoto perked up slightly at Nagisa’s voice. His blond co-worker was perpetually chipper and cheerful, despite also being a full-time student. Maybe drama was just less taxing than literature.

“Just a little tired, that’s all. Don’t worry,” said Makoto, attempting what he hoped passed as a reassuring smile.

“Can you watch the counter for a while? There’s a load of washing up,” explained Nagisa, pulling an exaggeratedly sad face.

“Sure,” replied Makoto. “What time does Rei’s shift start?”

Rei was another student working in the bakery part-time. He was majoring in physics, devoted to logic, his usual order was a jasmine tea, and his hobbies included running and reading. Makoto knew all this because Nagisa was so into Rei it physically pained Makoto that they weren’t together yet.

Sure enough, at the mention of his crush’s name, Nagisa’s cheeks flushed pink. “At three, I think,” he replied, bustling quickly into the kitchen.

Chuckling softly, Makoto leaned against the counter, eyelids heavy. The bakery was still empty, with their lunchtime clientele gone. He didn’t expect many customers for at least another hour or so, when Rei’s shift began and people began stopping off for drinks and snacks after college or work. His eyes were almost closed when he suddenly heard the twinkling of a bell, indicating he had a customer. Makoto glanced up, and his breath hitched in his throat.

Two boys, around Makoto’s age, had entered the bakery. One of them was tall and had spiky red hair, the way he strutted into the cafe a clear sign of self-assurance and confidence. But it isn’t him who Makoto is subconciously giving his attention to.

The second boy is absolutely stunning.

He’s small and pale and has dark hair. He’s dressed all in black, which makes his skin seem even paler. He looks anxious, half hiding himself behind the other boy. He has the most incredible eye colour Makoto’s ever seen, the colour of the ocean in the middle of summer. Even from here, Makoto can practically feel their intensity. Suddenly, he’s kind of glad Nagisa isn’t here to say anything about the redness he can feel spreading across his cheeks, or the way his palms have suddenly turned sweaty and uncomfortable.

“H-hi,” he stutters. “Can I help you?”

The redhead saunters over to the counter and grins at Makoto. “Can I get a double espresso to go, and—” he turns to the other boy, who was staring at the floor. “Haru, what do you want?”

“A, um, ah, a-a latte,” he mumbles.

Haru.

Makoto thinks he’s beautiful.

“A double espresso and a latte, coming up,” says Makoto, moving over to the coffee machines. “Oh, sorry, did you want small, medium or large?” he asks, feeling slightly flustered.

“A large and a medium, thanks,” replies the redhead.

Makoto can’t shift the feeling that both the redhead and Haru are watching him intently, and as a result, his actions are clumsier than usual. He usually spills at least one drink while he’s on shift, but right now, he feels particularly awkward. Maybe it’s the redhead’s intimidating appearance and slightly arrogant voice, or the way there’s an image of Haru plastered in his mind, or a fatal combination of both.

As he’s putting a lid on the redhead’s coffee, Nagisa bursts out of the kitchen and Makoto promptly drops the entire cup.

“Shit!” he gasps without thinking, and both Nagisa and the redhead erupt into laughter. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry! Nagisa—”

Shaking with laughter, Nagisa waves his hand dismissively. “No big deal,” he replies, giggling. “Let me do another for you.”

Blushing furiously, Makoto quickly finishes Haru’s latte and sets it on the counter just as Nagisa finishes the espresso.

“Oh, could we get a couple of these, too?” the redhead asks, apparently finished with his laughing fit. He’s pointing at a plate of sugar cookies that Makoto remembers making the other day.

“Sure,” he replies, happy to do something not involving hot water or machinery. He puts the bag of cookies next to the two cardboard cups, and slides them across the counter. As the redhead is paying Nagisa, Makoto senses eyes on him, and looks up at Haru, who’s gazing at him intently. As soon as their eyes meet, Haru whips his head away, but the unexpected eye contact makes Makoto feel strange and warm. Even though Haru isn’t looking at him, he smiles slightly.

It’s too soon when the redhead grabs the coffees and cookies, thanking Nagisa and chuckling at Makoto once more, and suddenly they’re both leaving and Makoto can’t do anything except fix his eyes on Haru as he walks up the street and disappears round the corner.

“Damn,” says Nagisa, giggling up at Makoto, “you like him.”