[Clouds in my coffee]
--
Rain was just beginning to hit the large window in front of Yokoo. The droplets landed with a scatter of noise that was almost inaudible over the voices, the music, and the whirr of steam filling the Starbucks in which he sat, looking out over the crossing below. It had been misting all afternoon, never fully deciding whether or not to rain properly - until now. Yokoo was glad he had brought an umbrella.
Senga would not be long now, Yokoo was certain; even if he'd been dawdling before, the darkening skies would surely make him hurry up . . . Yokoo risked sipping the cappuccino that had been too hot a moment before.
Still too hot. He set the cup down with the familiar clunk of crockery at the perfect time: in his pocket his cellphone buzzed with a new mail.
I'm here! On my way up now :D
As expected. Yokoo twisted in his seat, away from the windows where the rain was beginning to run in disorganised rivulets down the glass, and faced instead toward the Starbucks interior. One elbow leaning on the counter to his side, Yokoo let his cellphone dangle from his fingers and he narrowed his eyes, scanning for his groupmate among the clientele.
"Yo," Senga said, holding two fingers to his forehead in salute as he walked in and headed straight over to where Yokoo was seated. "You weren't waiting long, were you?"
"It's fine," Yokoo said. He lifted his bag from the seat beside him and made room for Senga to sit. "What're you having?"
Senga's coat glittered with the fine mist of rain that still clung to the fabric, and as he sat down the arm brushed against Yokoo's sleeve. Yokoo almost missed Senga's response as the movement and light caught his eye, but when Senga turned to face him with the familiar clear face and open expression his concentration returned. ". . . without the cream, please," he was saying, and habit made Yokoo remember.
"Of course. I'll be back in a minute."
"Is Yokoo-san going to keep apologising forever?" Senga asked once Yokoo had returned, and Yokoo hesitated, his own cup halfway to his mouth. "I already said it was okay, didn't I."
Yokoo paused, drank half his coffee, licked the froth from his top lip and put the cup down again.
Senga pulled a face, taking up his own mug. "I mean, it's nice, being spoiled now like this, but . . ."
The revelation unfolded slowly. Senga was right, Yokoo realised: the cause of their squabble was long gone, certainly. All he was doing now was dragging the guilt around behind him, like an extra ten bottles of water in his bag. And for what? For somebody to recognise that he wasn't a mean person after all? They knew him better than that. Senga knew him better than that. The froth on the top of his rapidly-cooling coffee was beginning to disappear, popping away into nothingness.
"Yokoo-san?"
Yokoo's teeth flashed white in his face as he forced a grin. "I'm still treating Ken-chan to dinner, though," he said.
Senga smiled despite himself. "Tonight?" he asked, looking at Yokoo with wide eyes over the rim of his mug as he gulped the still-hot drink.
Yokoo drained his coffee cup, somehow feeling lighter than he had in weeks. "Sure, tonight," he said. "But I promise, this is the last time."
--
Kara, you're up!
Rain was just beginning to hit the large window in front of Yokoo. The droplets landed with a scatter of noise that was almost inaudible over the voices, the music, and the whirr of steam filling the Starbucks in which he sat, looking out over the crossing below. It had been misting all afternoon, never fully deciding whether or not to rain properly - until now. Yokoo was glad he had brought an umbrella.
Senga would not be long now, Yokoo was certain; even if he'd been dawdling before, the darkening skies would surely make him hurry up . . . Yokoo risked sipping the cappuccino that had been too hot a moment before.
Still too hot. He set the cup down with the familiar clunk of crockery at the perfect time: in his pocket his cellphone buzzed with a new mail.
I'm here! On my way up now :D
As expected. Yokoo twisted in his seat, away from the windows where the rain was beginning to run in disorganised rivulets down the glass, and faced instead toward the Starbucks interior. One elbow leaning on the counter to his side, Yokoo let his cellphone dangle from his fingers and he narrowed his eyes, scanning for his groupmate among the clientele.
"Yo," Senga said, holding two fingers to his forehead in salute as he walked in and headed straight over to where Yokoo was seated. "You weren't waiting long, were you?"
"It's fine," Yokoo said. He lifted his bag from the seat beside him and made room for Senga to sit. "What're you having?"
Senga's coat glittered with the fine mist of rain that still clung to the fabric, and as he sat down the arm brushed against Yokoo's sleeve. Yokoo almost missed Senga's response as the movement and light caught his eye, but when Senga turned to face him with the familiar clear face and open expression his concentration returned. ". . . without the cream, please," he was saying, and habit made Yokoo remember.
"Of course. I'll be back in a minute."
"Is Yokoo-san going to keep apologising forever?" Senga asked once Yokoo had returned, and Yokoo hesitated, his own cup halfway to his mouth. "I already said it was okay, didn't I."
Yokoo paused, drank half his coffee, licked the froth from his top lip and put the cup down again.
Senga pulled a face, taking up his own mug. "I mean, it's nice, being spoiled now like this, but . . ."
The revelation unfolded slowly. Senga was right, Yokoo realised: the cause of their squabble was long gone, certainly. All he was doing now was dragging the guilt around behind him, like an extra ten bottles of water in his bag. And for what? For somebody to recognise that he wasn't a mean person after all? They knew him better than that. Senga knew him better than that. The froth on the top of his rapidly-cooling coffee was beginning to disappear, popping away into nothingness.
"Yokoo-san?"
Yokoo's teeth flashed white in his face as he forced a grin. "I'm still treating Ken-chan to dinner, though," he said.
Senga smiled despite himself. "Tonight?" he asked, looking at Yokoo with wide eyes over the rim of his mug as he gulped the still-hot drink.
Yokoo drained his coffee cup, somehow feeling lighter than he had in weeks. "Sure, tonight," he said. "But I promise, this is the last time."
--
Kara, you're up!