(no subject)
ADDICTED TO YOU by Anthony Callea
Just A Matter of Time and Tip - koyashige
It was just a matter of time.
For once, their usual unplanned schedule had been heavily interrupted one day, and the rest followed. The rest of their days had not been the same as usual now.
Koyama-instead of being behind the cash register-was out in his uniform, with only a trench coat to keep him dry under the light rain. He was worried, felt panic, almost lost running the streets of Tokyo.
This didn’t have to happen, he kept telling himself like it was a mental reminder. There was no reason for things to change; I didn’t want it to end this way.
A few days ago; a week and two days to be exact: nine days. Koyama has recently been hired into Cream Café: a coffee shop with an extra kick, meant coffee could possibly be served with alcohol. Yes, that was possible. It also made a lot of money.
He was a university student, communication and information for his course. He still had two and a half more years. But that was not the point. Not entirely, at least. Koyama was the cashier. Now that was relevant. He was the cashier, the one who took orders and names of the customer. He had a good ear, unlike the other who heard names wrong, ergo spelled them wrong.
On his first few days, he enjoyed working. He met people, the kind who came early to the shop for coffee and sandwiches, people who bought more than a cup of coffee, and people who were grouchy in the morning.
He also met people who were frequent in coming to Cream Café.
This was where his story started.
There was a young man, always in the café by seven-thirty in the morning (they usually opened at seven), left after finishing his breakfast: always coffee cakes, but it wasn’t necessarily the same everyday.
He found out that his name was Shige.
“Name?”
“Shige.”
Koyama scribbled his name-or so he called himself-on the cardboard, accepted his pay, returned his change, then smiled. That was the same drill for everyone else (it was also the same for the rest, when Koyama pretended not to know Shige’s name, and still asked for it when he ordered).
One day, he had given a large bill, said that he didn’t have any other change. Koyama smiled at him, nodded in his dark red cap and returned his change. Normally cashiers would get pissed off for having to give large amounts for something cheap. Koyama stayed cool, stayed happy. Maybe this was why Shige gave him tip in the lovely coffee mug that read ‘Feed me?’ sitting beside the cash register. Koyama thought he was thoughtful.
Then he thought he was sort of cute. Ryo started bullying him.
“Koyama likes his favorite customer,” he teased, fixing up a drink with Irish whiskey. He was tasked to do the house special, two orders. Koyama looked at him with an embarrassed face, bit his lip and attempted to retort back. He failed, seeing a lady walk up to the register, ordering a number of things (that meant more work for Ryo). Koyama could remember all of it; he had a good memory. But at the back of his mind, there was Shige.
The following morning, he didn’t come.
It was past seven-thirty (the time being ten minutes to eight already), and there was no sign of Shige at the door, or anywhere else on the street outside the café. He began to worry.
“Koyama likes his favorite customer,” Ryo teased him again, only with “a lot,” ending the sentence. Koyama failed to register what he said into mind. His mind was definitely on the young man.
Seven-thirty in the evening, Shige came. That shocked Koyama, of course.
“N-name,” he stuttered. There was the wind on his neck. He was hot under his collar.
“Shige.”
“I didn’t see you this morning.” Oh, God. He tried to start a conversation with a usual customer.
“Pardon?” Shige raised his look from the book he was reading, gave Koyama a look he couldn’t figure out. He still went on. “You... I didn’t see you come this morning. To the café; here, I mean. L-like you did everyday.”
“Oh,” he said, stopped for a moment. “I didn’t go to school today.”
“You’re a student?” he was just like Koyama.
He told him he was taking up law, naturally in law school. Koyama smiled and give him his change.
Ryo let out a hearty laugh from the back. “You’re such a pathetic-” he burst out in laughter again.
The next morning (like that never stopped coming), Shige was back. He came to the café at seven instead.
To be continued…
Just A Matter of Time and Tip - koyashige
It was just a matter of time.
For once, their usual unplanned schedule had been heavily interrupted one day, and the rest followed. The rest of their days had not been the same as usual now.
Koyama-instead of being behind the cash register-was out in his uniform, with only a trench coat to keep him dry under the light rain. He was worried, felt panic, almost lost running the streets of Tokyo.
This didn’t have to happen, he kept telling himself like it was a mental reminder. There was no reason for things to change; I didn’t want it to end this way.
A few days ago; a week and two days to be exact: nine days. Koyama has recently been hired into Cream Café: a coffee shop with an extra kick, meant coffee could possibly be served with alcohol. Yes, that was possible. It also made a lot of money.
He was a university student, communication and information for his course. He still had two and a half more years. But that was not the point. Not entirely, at least. Koyama was the cashier. Now that was relevant. He was the cashier, the one who took orders and names of the customer. He had a good ear, unlike the other who heard names wrong, ergo spelled them wrong.
On his first few days, he enjoyed working. He met people, the kind who came early to the shop for coffee and sandwiches, people who bought more than a cup of coffee, and people who were grouchy in the morning.
He also met people who were frequent in coming to Cream Café.
This was where his story started.
There was a young man, always in the café by seven-thirty in the morning (they usually opened at seven), left after finishing his breakfast: always coffee cakes, but it wasn’t necessarily the same everyday.
He found out that his name was Shige.
“Name?”
“Shige.”
Koyama scribbled his name-or so he called himself-on the cardboard, accepted his pay, returned his change, then smiled. That was the same drill for everyone else (it was also the same for the rest, when Koyama pretended not to know Shige’s name, and still asked for it when he ordered).
One day, he had given a large bill, said that he didn’t have any other change. Koyama smiled at him, nodded in his dark red cap and returned his change. Normally cashiers would get pissed off for having to give large amounts for something cheap. Koyama stayed cool, stayed happy. Maybe this was why Shige gave him tip in the lovely coffee mug that read ‘Feed me?’ sitting beside the cash register. Koyama thought he was thoughtful.
Then he thought he was sort of cute. Ryo started bullying him.
“Koyama likes his favorite customer,” he teased, fixing up a drink with Irish whiskey. He was tasked to do the house special, two orders. Koyama looked at him with an embarrassed face, bit his lip and attempted to retort back. He failed, seeing a lady walk up to the register, ordering a number of things (that meant more work for Ryo). Koyama could remember all of it; he had a good memory. But at the back of his mind, there was Shige.
The following morning, he didn’t come.
It was past seven-thirty (the time being ten minutes to eight already), and there was no sign of Shige at the door, or anywhere else on the street outside the café. He began to worry.
“Koyama likes his favorite customer,” Ryo teased him again, only with “a lot,” ending the sentence. Koyama failed to register what he said into mind. His mind was definitely on the young man.
Seven-thirty in the evening, Shige came. That shocked Koyama, of course.
“N-name,” he stuttered. There was the wind on his neck. He was hot under his collar.
“Shige.”
“I didn’t see you this morning.” Oh, God. He tried to start a conversation with a usual customer.
“Pardon?” Shige raised his look from the book he was reading, gave Koyama a look he couldn’t figure out. He still went on. “You... I didn’t see you come this morning. To the café; here, I mean. L-like you did everyday.”
“Oh,” he said, stopped for a moment. “I didn’t go to school today.”
“You’re a student?” he was just like Koyama.
He told him he was taking up law, naturally in law school. Koyama smiled and give him his change.
Ryo let out a hearty laugh from the back. “You’re such a pathetic-” he burst out in laughter again.
The next morning (like that never stopped coming), Shige was back. He came to the café at seven instead.
To be continued…