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Bishie

The Coffee Shop (Private)

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Bishie

private RP involving AlphaZero and myself.

//

 

 

Yokogawa Shiro 横河四郎


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Given Name: Shiro

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Surname: Yokogawa

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Age: 21

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Orientation: Bisexual

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[td]Appearance: With bright blue hair and eyes as light as silver, Shiro is a sight to behold. He doesn't do his own appearance justice by dressing up in ragged jeans and sweatshirts, but if you looked beneath the layers, you would find a beautiful yet damaged body. The wounds aren't visible to the naked eye, but if you came close enough, you could probably spot the fading scars over his heart from years of psychological abuse and torment. The majority of his bulk comes from his sweatshirt; he has very little muscle, as he did no gym in high school and was never one for sports. His insane metabolism is the only thing keeping him as skinny as he is, and no matter what he eats, he'll never gain a single pound.[/td]

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[td]Interests: As a fledgling art student, his main interest is simply that: art. He loves to draw and paint and create in all methods and ways, often without stopping to eat or breathe. His artwork has never once been sold, but according to his late grandmother, he has true, natural talent, and "if someone tells you any different, make sure to beat the hell out of them for me, my dear". In all honesty, he's one of the top students in his grade, and his paintings will probably sell for millions when he's dead. But he needs to stay awake to keep his place at the top, and that's where caffeine comes in; without it, he'd sleep during the day, and be up all night. Shiro is a natural night owl, and often gets his best ideas buzzed on caffeine or very late at night.[/td]

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[td]Personality: Shiro would be what you might consider a "lone wolf". He'd rather spend the majority of his time alone, and can get bothered when people insist on invading his space and insistently talking to him. Sometimes, he'll be rude without even thinking, but unless the person is particularly ticking him off, he will always apologize afterwards. When he is forced to talk to someone for long enough, he starts to warm up relatively quickly, and can get protective of the few people who he considers to be his friends. Despite the small attitude, he is a person of fairly strong morals. He may not be religious, but he knows the difference between right and wrong and all the shades of gray in between. He'd never be caught cheating or committing a crime, but he is cynical by nature and unwilling to believe that people can truly be "good". So when others perform good deeds in front of him, he's shocked, and more inclined to believe the action was for some kind of personal gain.[/td]

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[td]Other: He has a strange fascination with piercings, and would like to get a tongue or lip piercing one day. The hair underneath the beanie or hat he usually wears is extremely sensitive, to the point where he feels incredibly exposed with it off, and incredibly turned on when it's tugged. Not that he'd let anyone else know that, though.[/td]

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AlphaZero

Amano Kuro 天野 九郎


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[td]Given Name: Kuro[/td]

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[td]Surname: Amano[/td]

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[td]Age: 21[/td]

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[td]Orientation: Unknown[/td]

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[td]Appearance: Kuro appears to many people as younger than normal young adult men. He will sometimes be mistaken for a high school student. Because of his blonde hair and blue-green eyes, he is sometimes alienated by by some of his peers. His father is an American, thus his hair color and eyes. Though not enough to be unhealthy, he is quite skinny for his age. He prefers to stay indoors than outdoors, and is fair skinned as a result. He will usually been seen wearing very comfortable clothing, and is even sometimes seen as not caring about his appearance at all. Headphones are usually seen on his head or over his neck except at work and at school.[/td]

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[td]Interests: Kuro has always loved coffee. He likes to drink it, take pictures of it, and make it. He wants to have someone draw a huge painting of just coffee for him one day. He also loves to draw intricate details on his coffee with the cream and is quite experienced in it, though he is not up to par with many professionals. He is interested in becoming a barista one day, and thus is attending a school for just for upcoming baristas and is also working as a part time server at a coffee shop called 'The Coffee Shop'. His other interests include sleeping, hanging out with friends, and listening to music. He also likes to go to art galleries when possible to get inspiration for his coffee designs. Though he is not a fan of drawing things on paper because he believes that he can only draw stick figures well, he likes to make his designs on paper then use it on his coffee. In his spare time, he likes to practice making coffee at home and is also a fan of simplicity in his designs.[/td]

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[td]Personality: Kuro's demeanor is one of an unassuming, energetic, and friendly boy with a strong sense of justice. He makes friends easily, often without trying - and is trusting and open to an almost naive extent. He can been seen as a 'social butterfly'. Though he has many problems with people because of his trusting nature, he believes that if they leave him, then there is no point in working his ass off to try to get them back. If they were his true friends, they would stay. He does not have close friends as a result. He is honest to a fault and never seems to lie, unless when really necessary. His attitude towards life isn't negative, but there are times in which he will be pessimistic. He has learned how to guard himself against verbal abuse, as being a socialite requires that technique. Only to certain people, will he be able to warm himself up to. [/td]

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[td]Others: Kuro is ticklish on the sides of his abdomen and is especially sensitive at a spot on his neck under his chin. If someone even puts their fingers close to that spot despite not touching it, he will react as if a poisonous spider was on that hand and jump back.[/td]

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Bishie

@AlphaZero I wrote this intro and ended up really liking it, so I changed my character's orientation to match. Sometimes, a character takes shape through writing, defying all plans and paths that had been set out for them. I hope you enjoy it, anyway; if not, I'm fully open to rewriting it. ;D

 


It wasn't right.

 

The proportions were off. He could tell. He just wasn't certain of where, exactly. Was it the face? The neck? Why could he never seem to capture his image on canvas without screwing up somewhere? Was it a strange, singularly focused artist block? Shiro glared at the paint now drying on the canvas' surface, as if the sheer power of his gaze could make it rearrange itself into something more akin to what he actually wanted it to look like.

 

I guess I'll just have to paint over it, he thought to himself, the disinterest he felt dragging him into laying down his brush. Later.

 

He stepped back, and took in the paintings surrounding it. All but a couple were of the same exact subject: a boy staring back at him, with bright, shining blue eyes and ruffled blonde hair that looked like the very same shade as the sun.

 

Okay, he may have had the tiniest crush, but so what?

 

There was a guy that worked at this coffee shop that Shiro frequented; he had never managed to catch him at his working hours, but every time that Shiro left, the guy walked in, the brightest fucking smile on his face as if he simply lived to work there. His schedule made it impossible for him to go to the coffee shop during what Shiro believed to be his working hours, but he was hoping that, with the start of a new semester, his classes would be arranged just enough that he could get the guy to serve him.

 

"God, Shiro, you're some kind of stalker, I swear," he said bitterly, and with one last look at the unfinished painting, turned off the light and went back upstairs.

 


When Shiro got the update on his schedule for his classes, he allowed himself the smallest of grins. His mornings were almost entirely free, leaving him plenty of time to pick up a coffee and stay for a while. He could even leave this very morning, and spend the rest of his day stealing glances at the blue-eyed boy working there.

 

It sounded like heaven.

 

He threw on his sweatshirt carelessly, and almost tripped over his dog on the way out. Kai barked in protest as he was woken from his sleep, but he seemed curious enough to follow him on his way towards the door, sniffing at his legs and feet.

 

Shiro didn't know what exactly started this crush, anyway. It must be entirely shallow of him to crush on a guy without even knowing him first, but he never said that he wasn't shallow or that he had a decent personality. He wasn't hoping for a relationship, even; he just wanted to enjoy the eye candy while it lasted and the inspiration that the guy gave him, that was all. Judging by his expression every morning, the other boy was the cheery, talkative, morning type, and the second that he opened his mouth, Shiro's crush would most likely dissipate, leaving behind nothing but ill feelings.

 

Each and every one of Shiro's relationships ended poorly, anyway. He often spent more time on his art than he spent with the boy unfortunate enough to be with him; to be honest, sitting in his basement alone sounded far better than forcing conversation with people he couldn't care less about. He remembered the fight he had gotten into with his last boyfriend about it, and winced. Luckily, he had lived to tell the tale... to his dog.

 

As if Kai knew that he was being thought about, the dog woofed happily at him, tail wagging with barely contained excitement. He probably wanted to go for a walk-- as if. It was far too early, and the sun peeking through the windows and the cracks of the door was already bright enough to give him a headache. He opened the door slowly, allowing his eyes time to adjust to the light, before making his exit, a strange excitement going through him at the prospect of coffee and a chance to see this guy in action.

 

Yeah, he definitely was a stalker alright.

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AlphaZero

"You son of a bitch!"

 

Tears began to fill the female's eyes, and her glare intensified as Amano Kuro did nothing but stare at her like a deer in headlights. He stood there, not knowing what he did wrong. All he did was answer her question truthfully when she asked. Lying left a bad taste in his mouth.

 

One blink, two blinks, and silence ensues. Kuro could feel the penetrating gazes that burned themselves into his skin, and he had very thick skin. The coffee mug filled with bitter delight rested on the silver tray he carried on his right palm. He continued to stare confusingly at the customer that had silent tears running down her cheeks, her petite hands scrunching her once smooth skirt. As he furrowed his eyebrows, he thought back to just a few moments before, trying to understand what he did to be called the son of a female dog.

 

***

 

"Table number 5!", the booming, masculine voice of the barista resounded across the room, allowing for his employee to hear it as desired.

 

"Got it!"

 

His light footsteps hastily carried him to his destination and the dazzling smile he gave to his staring customers was enough to make them swoon in satisfaction. The sun shining through the sealed windows lightened his already bright, blonde hair, making the soft locks look golden. Kuro wasn't ever one to brag, but he knew that some of the customers here, whether they be female or male, came just for him. As long as they bought something, especially the coffee, he was completely fine with being ogled at by them. Plus, his tips always ended up in the twenties or above. He was surprised though. Who would ever think that such a scrawny, boyish man like him was 'attractive' or even better, 'handsome'?

 

Picking up the scalding mug and placing onto his silver platter, the bitter smell was like a drug seeping deep into his veins. Him liking this job was an understatement, he loved this job. If someone came into work everyday grinning just like he did, they'd think they were heaven, which he definitely was. His eyes scanned the different varieties of tables positioned in the cafe, trying to remember which one was table number five. A pleasant sigh escaped his lips as he located one young lady sitting quietly, approximately his age he supposed, and sauntered over.

 

"Here's your black coffee, miss."

 

His left hand began to pick up the pristine, white mug, but was stopped by a delicate hand pulling at his black waiter's apron. Eyes widening just a fraction, he wondered what was wrong.

 

"Yes? Is there something that you require?", he asked politely.

 

"Um...w-what do you think of me? Appearance wise, I mean. Like, I-I know we don't know each other, but I just wanted to...", she stopped there.

 

He stared into her brown, doe-like eyes, seemingly hopeful at what his answer will be, and placed a tiny smile on his lips.

 

"Your eyes are very beautiful."

 

Her eyes began to twinkle and widen, whilst her face brightened from his compliment.

 

"But your hair could use some work. That hairstyle doesn't fit your oval face. You may also want to condition it too, it seems a bit dry. Maybe you should consider buying face wash as well, you seem to be breaking out."

 

Her face fell, darkening the brightness that had once lit up her face. Kuro had wanted to tell her the truth, thinking that she just wanted his opinion because it was convenient that he was there. He believed that if someone else had happened to past by, she would ask them for their opinion.

 

"You son of a bitch!" The high-pitched scream caused his lips to go the opposite way from what it was before, and his body recoiled from the sudden yell.

 

***

 

Nope, he still didn't understand. He continued to stare at the woman's blubbering face. What he saw was a face reddening in anger and embarrassment.

 

What he didn't see was a hand coming straight for his face.

 

Slap

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Bishie

There was something about mornings that Shiro simply couldn't stand.

 

His best guess would be that it was the weather; that cold, uncomfortable chill that lingered long after the night was gone, and the way it always felt so dreary to him, like the calm before the storm. He liked to paint it on occasion, sure, but there was only a small chance that the sun would rise into a beautiful sea of colors-- the majority of the time, it was all tinged with a depressing shade of gray. And every single day, he would have to wake up to that, wondering why he even woke up at all.

 

At least this time, he had something-- someone-- to wake up for.

 

Even still, the morning was draining him as he walked, it's presence putting an unexplained weight over his shoulders and making his body shiver with each small gust of wind. He wanted to turn back around and escape into the comfort of his house, before allowing his bed to draw him into a deep sleep for another couple of hours. It sounded amazing, but the thought of a fresh cup of coffee and seeing the guy he'd had a crush on for weeks sounded even better.

 

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt, and continued walking.

 

The minutes stretched on, seemingly longer than usual, before he finally made it into town. To be honest, it was Shiro's fault for picking a place in the near desolate wilderness, but the privacy made up for the amount of trips back and forth he had to make. Shiro passed by a grocery store, and a small shrine, each location hosting a fair number of people who favored getting things done early rather than late. He made a mental note to pick up a carton of milk on his way back, or else he would have to resort to ramen again rather than a bowl of cereal for lunch time.

 

It only took one more block before he found the place; The Coffee Shop, the sign read, with the Japanese translation written off to the side in a white, pleasing text. Shiro sighed in relief at the sight of it, body trembling with the long term effects of the cold, and couldn't resist switching into a light jog to close the rest of the distance and make it inside. He was greeted by warm air blasting from a heater against the wall, and instead of the welcome that he had learned to expect, there was only silence, despite the number of people filling up the tables and waiting in line for their morning coffee.

 

Immediately, Shiro was confused. Was there something wrong? His eyes scanned the crowd curiously, and, to his surprise, he saw the guy from before, standing in front of a very angry woman and clutching his face as if he had been stricken. Which, judging by the red marks that weren't covered up by his hand, he was, and Shiro could only wonder what he had done to deserve it. As the seconds passed, the crowd made a transition from silence, to whispering, to full on gossip, and he felt like some weight had been lifted, not unlike the weight the morning held for Shiro.

 

He stood in line to be served his coffee, and tried to resist sneaking glances at the guy out of the corner of his eye as he waited. Despite the markings on his face, he was very attractive, almost unfairly so, and the knowledge of that brought the faintest of a blush to his cheeks. This crush was bordering on ridiculous, but Shiro couldn't help it. There was little to no chance of it progressing into anything more, but that was apart of the whole appeal, he guessed. No chances of a relationship, and no chances of disappointment. It was almost as perfect as the guy himself.

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AlphaZero

Kuro could feel the heat rising on the reddening cheek, and the hand that was placed over that spot confirmed it. It stung to the touch. Thank the lord the woman was petite. The slap did hurt, but not as much as would if it were a man—ouch— or had the woman been stronger. His thought process had ceased the moment the hand had reached his face, and all he could do was be a deer in headlights. Even the increasing murmuring of what just happened didn't phase him, until the young woman shot up from her seat and stormed out of the shop, cursing and crying along the way. It was then, that he could hear everything all at once, and boy, was it embarrassing.

 

"Did you see that?"

 

"Probably a lover's quarrel."

 

"Oh my god, he's still handsome even with that hand mark on face!"

 

That was definitely a compliment there. Thank you kind man.

 

"He has no delicacy though. How could he say that to that poor girl?"

 

What? What did he say? It was just the truth!

 

As he blinked away the slight tears threatening to fall—he was always sensitive to negative gossip about him—he looked frantically at the crowd beginning to disperse ever so slowly, to his dismay, and began to notice the growing line at the order station. There was no employee to serve their customers. The customers were beginning to grow discontent with the situation and the tension began to grow worse with each increasing moment.

 

What the hell?!

 

Despite the stinging pain still embedded deep onto his skin, he slipped away from his current position, hastening his pace as the line grew longer and longer, his slipping tears vanishing as quickly as they came. He knew that his face was still scarily red at this point; the customers will indeed see it even more clearly than they did before, but he couldn't risk more problems that came with impatient waiting.

 

Kuro placed himself before the marble counter and quickly surveyed the rest of the line, internally counting how much customers there were.

 

Approximately twenty, and more than half of them did not seem happy to still be standing in the line. One individual however, seemed to be calm and lost deep in his thoughts. Where had he seen this guy before? He looked very familiar. The male seemed to be around his age, and the one thing Kuro really took note of, was the blue hair that seemed to make him stand out from the crowd, like Kuro's blond hair always did.

 

"Hey buddy! Can I get an order?" The loud, booming voice caused Kuro to flinch and jump in place; his attention completely driven from the calm customer back to the annoyed customer in front of him.

 

Oh shit.

 

He was very off today, very off, and he was sure that it was definitely going to also be an off day.

 

"Yes! Sorry, sir. What would you like to order?"

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Bishie

When Shiro had rushed to get here so early in the morning, barely giving himself time to even tie his shoelaces, he honestly didn't expect to be met with such an embarrassing public display and drama befitting a soap opera. His silver eyes examined the girl with barely concealed annoyance, knowing that she was the direct cause of all this-- girls typically were. It was why, more often than not, he preferred to play for the other team.

 

His sexuality had always been a source of confusion for him; judging by his preferences, most people would probably label him as bisexual. Shiro always had a thing against labels though. He just went with the flow, and if more than half of the people he dated ended up being guys, then so what? It was 2015, not 1982, and they were in a pretty openly liberal spot in Japan, where half of the men were gay or closeted anyway. Hell, Shiro wouldn't be surprised if the birth rate was decreasing and the adoption rate was at an all-time high. He reminded himself to watch the news one day-- fat chance he ever will, though.

 

The girl apparently hadn't had enough of the drama, though. Tears were falling from her eyes like raindrops made of pure salt and desperation, and she stood up with a huff and a sob. Shiro almost winced with second-hand embarrassment. He hated people like her; people who caused trouble, and were typically liars that cried big fat crocodile tears to manipulate those around them. He also felt the slightest bit of anger for the fact that she had hit the guy he liked, damaging his face and bruising his skin when he probably didn't do a thing to deserve it.

 

She stormed past him, and he had to step to the side so that he wouldn't knock her over, as much as he wanted to. He wasn't like her-- he didn't need to resort to violence to get his anger across. He did shoot a glare at her, though, before composing himself once more, and it relieved some of his frustrations even if it didn't particularly do anything. He turned back around with the smallest of sighs, feeling his patience begin to thin as the line moved steadily nowhere. There wasn't even anyone serving them-- if he didn't have such a godawful crush on the guy working here, he would rethink coming back to this place ever again.

 

The crowd was gossiping louder than ever, voicing their complaints for everyone to hear, and Shiro was a second away from putting his earbuds in and playing loud classical music when he finally noticed the guy's face. He inhaled in surprise, catching the slightest hint of reflection from tears gathering in cloudy blue eyes. Was he... was he crying? Shiro couldn't tell whether it was from the pain or the shock, or something else entirely; it seemed so honest, so innocent, that he suddenly wasn't certain whether the guy was old enough to work here at all. He swallowed thickly, and more than anything else, wished that the distance between them wasn't so large so that he could wipe away whatever tears threatened to fall.

 

Shiro mentally shook himself. He couldn't be thinking those kinds of thoughts. Especially not now. The blonde's tears were blinked away, as if they had never been there at all, and he rushed to serve the customers before they could grow even more restless and angry. His face was still a bright red, probably from a combination of skin irritation and embarrassment, and Shiro couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for him. He was practically left alone to tend to the entire shop, and his customers weren't making it any easier.

 

The confusing emotions and thoughts inside him were beginning to conflict and run together, so he quickly shut his mind up and just waited patiently to be served his coffee. The line thinned gradually, person by person, and finally-- finally-- it was his turn to stand in front of the cutest guy Shiro has ever seen and give him his order. That was the exact moment that his mouth began to dry up, and for a second, he had no idea what he was even here for to begin with. "Hi," he said. What was he doing? What should he even say? Make small talk? "How was your day? Wait, it's morning, isn't it? Fuck, right." Smooth, Shiro. "I'll take, err... you know, just surprise me. I don't care."

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AlphaZero

"Hi." Kuro decided to wait for the customer to continue speaking and just grinned with his blue eyes wide, staring at what was deemed as the doors to the soul. These doors were silver, a bright silver that seemed to meld perfectly with his aquamarine colored hair and light skin. The male looked to be around Kuro's own age, which was 21. Although he did look more than a bit thin to be 21, his eyes showed what his appearance couldn't say—the years worth of wonderful gifts that life's gifted him had taken a definite toll on his heart.

 

"How was your day? Wait, it's morning, isn't it? Fuck, right."

 

Yes, it was morning, but the question was a good one. How was his morning to be exact?

 

Uneventful.

 

How would his day be?

 

Pretty good, hopefully. The boy was interesting. Usually the customers that had to wait more than five minutes in line, would always just order grumpily then leave. They never tried to make small talk or act kind, no matter how hospitable Kuro tried to be towards them. This one on the other hand, did the opposite.

 

"I'll take, err... you know, just surprise me. I don't care."

 

Oh, now that was different. Kuro's mouth widened in surprise and definite amusement. Who was this guy? Where had he seen him before? The memory was just on the tip of his tongue... Brows furrowing in a desperate attempt of memory recollection, the words left him without a second thought.

 

"Have I met you before?"

 

Well, now that was smooth. Who the hell would ask a customer that? Now it seemed as if he was trying to pick the poor guy up, and while he was working no less. This was too much humiliation for one morning, for ten minutes.

 

Goodbye kind customer, you'll think I'm a weirdo than leave me to my misery.

 

"Uh... wait, that was wrong. You wanted me to surprise you right? Aha. I got just the drink."

 

God, that seemed even more awkward. Did that small laugh have to make its way through there?

 

"Hey! Hurry up up there! Flirt later!"

 

Blood was the darkest red in the world, and with his body temperature rising up to abnormal levels, he was pretty sure he was darker than that. Eyes widening in shock and embarrassment, he couldn't help but try to avert his eyes from the customer before him. In a sad attempt to avoid anymore easily misunderstood contact, he told the customer what he should have told him a while ago.

 

"That will be 3.50 please."

 

Oh dear, that voice came out way to meek too be mine.

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Bishie

In the weeks that he had spent planning this, he hadn't been able to recover a single bit of it. He carelessly stumbled over his own words like an uncharismatic teenage boy, and wished desperately that he could get his mouth to stop moving. While Shiro was normally relaxed and quieter than most, he couldn't say the same when he was finally talking to this gorgeous guy that he has had a crush on since, well, forever. It's only understandable that he would revert back to his old, hormone and puberty ridden ways-- high school was a rough period of his life for him. He's lucky that this hasn't gone any worse than it already has; his fingers were only shaking slightly, and he was barely even breaking a sweat. He wasn't feeling ready to burst into tears of joy and embarrassment. Yet.

 

Shiro scratched the back of his head nervously, and shifted his weight from side to side. The small talk was too rushed and too sudden, making it seem out of place in their current situation. He was only a customer; they weren't buddies, nor did they have time to wait around and have a casual chat with thousands of people waiting in line. He was too desperate, like one of those girls fawning over him, and it was so obvious that Shiro could have cringed. He watched the boy's expression out of the corner of his eye, and saw the way his mouth moved as if he were taken aback by something that he had said-- and chances are that he were; it's not everyday that a customer made an absolute fool of themselves.

 

"Have I met you before?"

 

Now it was Shiro's turn to be taken aback. His head whipped around to stare at him, openly this time, his silver eyes wide with shock. Had the boy stumbled over his words, too? The question seemed just as misplaced as the start of their conversation, and didn't address a single thing that Shiro had said. It was almost to the point of being rude, but judging by his tone of voice and the way his blue eyes shone, he hadn't meant it that way. Hell, if he knew any better, he would have considered it to be almost flirtatious, like a reworded "do you come here often?"

 

Shiro watched the blush spread across the other boy's cheeks with utter fascination.

 

Maybe there was some hope for this crush after all?

 

"Uh... wait, that was wrong. You wanted me to surprise you, right?" Shiro didn't even need to answer that one. "Aha. I got just the drink."

 

Aha? Was this guy really old enough to be working here? Again, the question made itself known at the front of his mind, and he could barely resist scoffing. Perhaps a more important question is: why did he have such a huge goddamn crush on this overgrown five-year-old? Even he was embarrassed about that one. The blood had such a steady rush to the boy's cheeks, completely obvious to every pair of eyes on him, and the red only darkened when a man standing in the back of the line decided to yell up at them.

 

"Hey! Hurry up up there! Flirt later!"

 

Shiro almost bit through his tongue, and even he had the decency to flush with embarrassment. They both looked like heated furnaces at this point, and he chuckled with barely controlled anxiety. "Uh," he stated eloquently, and before he could say any more, the other boy was opening his mouth and speaking-- wait, was that English? It sounded more like gibberish, with it's vast differences to the language Shiro and his country shared. He probably looked as uncomfortable as he felt, and the fact that he had no idea what he just said was endlessly frustrating to him.

 

"Three--" he sounded out slowly, in English. That was a number, right? He knew that much, from the occasional American TV show they aired here in Japan. If not, then he probably sounded incredibly stupid. "Fiff-ty?"

 

How much was a "fifty"? He could never count that far; he could barely even count to twenty in English without messing up at some point. Might as well just overpay to avoid any conflicts. He dug into his pocket for his wallet, and took out the appropriate amount to set on the counter. 700 yen; good enough.

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AlphaZero

"Three-Fiff-ty?"

 

Kuro was never the type to mistaken Japanese for English. His father was American after all. So... why did it seem like this man was speaking in English? Even though it was broken English, it was still English. The harsh Japanese accent was quite endearing when put together with the budding pink cheeks that erupted with the man's crude comment from the back of the line. Patience was virtue, and that man certainly had no virtue.

 

As most can see, Kuro was oblivious to a fault, and it showed when the realization hit him like a ton of iron bars. He was the one that had used English on the customer. He was the one that made the native Japanese man try to decipher his words—which probably sounded like gibberish to the other—and pay the amount in yen when he had said the USD amount as currency for the drink. The amount that was placed on the counter was around two dollars (240 yen) over the required amount. The poor man must have had no idea how much he had to pay and just placed a random amount, all because of Kuro's mistake. Embarrassment does a lot to person, as can be seen with Kuro's stupid blunder.

 

"I am so sorry. I used English on you. 3.50 dollars is around 420 yen," his hand rubbed the back of his head in chagrin, his blush intensifying.

 

"Uh... 700 yen is enough, a bit over the... I-I'll just give you your change now."

 

The ding was heard as the cash register opened up its safe. A receipt was spitted out from said register, and Kuro occupied the rest of the change. He swore that he could hear the coins clinking together because of his shaking hands. The hotness was well over just uncomfortable and he was sure the temperature rose ten fold as the coins were dropped on the counter, dispersing to random places, another blunder that was uncharacteristic of him.

 

"Oh my g—I'm sorry. I-I don't know what's going on with me today."

 

They must have been a sight, him and the other male. Both were sporting pinkish cheeks, both were continuously stuttering, one was making childish mistakes, and one was seemingly taking too long in just buying one single drink. Before he get a chance to hear the customer's reply, another voice had the lovely decency to cut in.

 

"Dear god! How long does it take to buy a goddamn drink?! And how long does it take to give the guy back his change?!" The loud, booming, now getting annoying voice, had yelled out his impatience once again.

 

"I'm sorry!," this was the what? His sixth apology of the day? "He's so loud...," he so politely said under his breath. Kuro turned back his attention to the customer still waiting for his change. Their skins slightly grazed against one another's as Kuro placed the receipt and the coins back into the hand of the other male. He then grabbed a sticky note, a pen, and tried to remember the questions that every server needed to know to even work in this place.

 

"Here's your change sir. What...um...size? And...uh...your name please?"

 

Seriously, what was wrong with him today? He was a blushing mess, and now a dunce mess. Where was his coffee when he needed it?

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