“Fuji Yuuta is affinity,” she could hear An going on in her head as she stared out of the kitchen door to watch the said boy finishing a slice of strawberry shortcake, while remnants of yesterday’s conversation played inside her head like a broken record.
“You and him were bound by fate and were meant to meet each other despite having nothing in common. It’s an opportunity you were meant to take and cherish to the fullest.”
“It’s not by fate,” she remembers herself replying to her cousin’s so called ‘wise words’. “It’s through tennis, remember? You and Kippei-nii forced me to try out street tennis last week even though I didn’t even know how to grip a racket. I ended up almost killing three people and making a fool out of myself in front of him.”
“Just listen,” An had almost snapped at her, “My instincts tell me that destiny has something in store for both you and Fuji-kun and my instincts are almost always never wrong.”
Her boss cleared his throat and she jolted out of her train of thoughts and wheeled around to come face to face with a toad-like, red-faced middle aged man and trying to look as apologetic as she could.
“Are you planning on blocking everyone’s path in and out of the kitchen all day, Hayashi? Or are you planning to deliver that?” he said and glanced at the chocolate cake and apple juice Risami balanced on the tray.
“Er… no, Sir! I was just going to serve this,” she quickly said, turning around and walking away from her boss before he could spray her with any more saliva. Nervously, she walked towards the boy she was staring at only a moment ago. “Chocolate cake?”
Fuji Yuuta felt her presence and looked up from where he was just eating the last of the cake. He quickly swallowed when he saw Risami.
“Hayashi-san? Do you work here?” he asked, looking as if he wasn’t expecting to meet her again. She can’t blame him since he was one of the three people whom she had almost killed last week. She saw the Band-Aids covering one part of his arm and cringed at the memory.
“Well… yes, I do,” she said as she placed his orders on the table next to the… five clean plates stacked neatly on top of each other in front of him. “Can I clear that away?”
Yuuta looked at the plates and nodded. “It’s good to see you again,” he said as Risami made a turn towards the kitchen.
“Yeah, you too,” she said and hurried away before her boss could see her chatting with a customer and finds another reason to pick on her again. “I am blaming An for putting weird thoughts in my head…” she muttered as she glanced behind her to get one last look at him, her heart pounding against her chest. What did An said he was? He was affinity.
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“How is work?” Atobe Keigo asked casually as Risami placed the cup of coffee – no, not coffee, Atobe will chew on her head if he heard her say coffee – café au lait on the table in front of him.
“Still able to differentiate between a cup of macchiato and a cup of mocha, thank you very much,” she said.
Atobe nodded in approval, “Good, very good. Ore-sama’s lecture was not in vain.”
As she walked away from the table, she can hear An invading her head again. “On the other hand, Atobe Keigo is like infinity.” she had said. “There’s a never-ending mystery about him. And of course, he has infinite talents, infinite admirers, infinite authority, infinite presence, infinite money and an infinite ego. But that last one might just be my bias talking.”
Risami had scoffed at her choice of similes and metaphors to describe the two boys, but she can definitely see where An was going with this. Once again, her boss pulled her attention away, “Hayashi! I’ve called you ten thousand times!”
“Sorry, what is it, Sir?”
“The young master is calling for you,” he said and waved her towards Atobe. She blinked on the spot and the saliva-spraying commenced. “Well, don’t keep him waiting all day! He’s the son of the owner! If I receive a complaint about you from him, I’d like to see you feed the two children and the old lady I have at home!”
Risami quickly walked past him and towards Atobe. “Yes, Atobe-san? How may I help you?” she mustered as politely as she could, remembering her boss’s threat just five seconds ago. She waited until he finished sipping his coffee – café au lait – and set it down in front of him.
“Hayashi, sit. Ore-sama would like to chat.”
“Sorry, but I can’t. The manager warned us ‘stupid and clumsy part-timers’ against communicating with the customers and to keep it to a minimum,” she said and glanced over at her boss who was biting someone else’s head off for God knows what.
“Hmph, how preposterous! Ore-sama is technically not a customer,” he said.
“Well, that is true… Oh heck,” Risami said and sat down where Atobe had told her to. Atobe looked satisfied with himself.
“So, how did you find tennis? I heard Tachibana Kippei had you try out street tennis. It is nothing compared to real tennis of course and my facility is still the best,” he said and gestured out of the café and into the wide lobby area of one of the Atobe gyms to prove his point. “But tell me, how did you find the sport?”
“It was… interesting?”
“Elaborate.”
“Erm, I almost killed three people with nothing more than a racket and a fuzzy yellow ball, so that’s good.”
“I see… That does sound interesting. Ore-sama will let you try out Ore-sama’s private court when we have the chance.”
“Thanks, Atobe-san. But I don’t think I’ll try tennis again anytime soon. How’s the café au lait?”
“Ah, you remembered what Ore-sama told you. Ore-sama is glad. The term ‘coffee’ is so… plebeian. Café au lait sounds more sophisticated and more fitting for someone of Ore-sama’s status.”
“Okay. How is it?”
“Good, did you brew this?”
“No, one of the kitchen personnel did. I only asked for conversation’s sake.”
“Well, Ore-sama would like to try your café au lait one day, Hayashi.”
“I am afraid I can only do ‘coffee-level’,” she said with a frown.
“You’ll learn, It’s still better than nothing.” Atobe took one brief glance at his million-dollar wristwatch and slightly frowned. “Ore-sama must take his leave now as Ore-sama has pressing matters to attend to.”
After watching Atobe leave the café in his usual confident strut, she turned to the cup of coffee sitting abandoned in the table. Risami dared herself to take a sip and was wondering what kind of coffee Atobe would suit his tastes when her manager came to yell at her again.
“If you have the time to sit around and drink coffee and take up chair space, why don’t you take out the trash!?”
“It’s café au lait, not coffee,” she told the manager, echoing the start of Atobe’s previous lecture on coffees. It soon becomes apparent to her that her boss did not appreciate it as he went redder in the face and looks ready to burst.
“I DON’T CARE WHAT IT’S CALLED! GO AND TAKE THE TRASH OUT!”
Risami decided it’s better for her to do as told and ran to the kitchen to get the trash. It was a much more delicate procedure when Atobe had told her to call it café au lait instead of coffee. Okay, maybe An was right, maybe he did have that never-ending aura of authority and presence or whatever she worded it in. The main point was the same. He was infinity.
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