Chapter Text
Monday, December 2nd, 2024
Your stomach lets out a loud groan as you pull open your pantry doors. Empty shelves stare back at you, as you mumble a complaint that you hadn’t made time to get to the grocery store this weekend… or any weekend for the past month. Your stomach protests again loudly. Another Monday morning you’ll suffer through before making it to the vending machines in the office breakroom.
Sighing to yourself, you close the pantry and start to throw your keys and ID badge into your bag hastily. Maybe I can get to the store later today… Roughly pulling on your shoes, you almost trip on the way out the door of your studio apartment. The lock clicks as you start to make your way downstairs and out the front of your small building.
Your feet carry you swiftly across the intersection right outside your apartment complex. It was only a fifteen minute walk to get to your office, and you preferred to make the journey by foot - when the weather participates that is. It’s early December, and delicate snowflakes have just started gracefully floating around you. You tilt your head up to catch a few flecks of white on your tongue, a smile-turned-grimace flitting across your lips as you instinctively pull your jacket tighter around your body. You love this weather, but you never seem prepared to fight off the chill it brings you.
“I really need to remember a scarf next time.” You grumble to yourself, as you make the next turn.
You have made this same journey for a few months now - same two intersections crossed, a right turn on Seventh Street, and then cutting through the park in the middle of the main town square to finish up the last 5 minute stretch to the dull-grey building you spend your forty (sometimes more) hours at. Nothing has ever changed - same pot holes on the street, same loud “Please wait to cross” automated voice at the crosswalks. It’s been a routine you’ve grown accustomed to, that allows for a few minutes of idle-minded peace before clocking in.
Today, however, something is different. By all accounts, this should be just another walk to the office. Maybe filled with some quicker steps, judging by the time. But as you enter the park this morning, a sudden gust of wind brings a few flakes tickling your nose. It also brings the smell of cinnamon and coffee to your nose.
You whip your head to the direction the breeze is hitting you, and for the first time notice a small bakery with soft lights illuminating the sign: Whole Cake Bakery.
“Huh.” Your steps falter as the rumble of hunger has you checking your watch again. “Ugh, stomach. We don’t have time for this…”
But… the promise of fresh baked goods and warm coffee seems to take over your brain. Before you know it, you’ve changed direction and head straight to the bright “Open” sign. The bell above the door jingled as you stumbled into the bakery, the sharp morning air clinging to your jacket. The scent of warm sugar begins to wrap around you like a blanket.
You weren’t supposed to be here - you were late and your head was starting to pound from the cold. But the promise of fresh pastries and hot coffee had pulled you in like a siren song.
And behind the counter stood him.
Your eyes locked on the man in front of you, raking over his tall frame. He was massive. Broad shoulders hunched slightly as he leaned over a tray of pastries, flour dusting the black cotton of his t-shirt. The sleeves were high enough to show ink crawling up his arm - thick pink lines adorning his skin and disappearing under fabric.
He glanced up when you entered. Eyes sharp, assessing. His face was striking, framed by a pink hair lightly spiked in all directions. For a moment he just looked at you, unreadable. Then he rumbled, “What’ll it be?”
Ho. ly. Shit.
You blinked one. Twice. Your breath catches briefly, as you’re instantly disarmed by the intensity of his gaze. You take a few tentative steps forward to the counter, tilting your head up… and up to meet his crimson eyes.
Everything about him draws you in, inviting you to take a few seconds to look him over. You take in his short spiked hair, almost a pink sheen to the crimson locks. There seems to be faint scars on either side of his face, framing his lips and heading toward his temples. When he spoke, you got a quick glimpse of slightly pointed teeth. His body towers over you, not intimidatingly… but you can’t deny the power his frame seems to hold.
STOP. STARING. You cough, trying to clear your mind.
“Uh - coffee? Strong and sweet. And, um, whatever you recommend that'll stop me from collapsing at my desk.”
Who gave you any right to look like THAT.
One brow arched, but he didn’t say anything. Just turned and poured the coffee, movements precise and almost too graceful for his size. You couldn’t help but watch his every move, every small flex of his muscles. Turning back, he slid a pastry bag across the counter. Inside, a neat little mochi dusted with powdered sugar. A steaming to-go cup of coffee sitting next to it.
“On the house,” He says gruffly, as if daring you to argue.
Your stomach does a flip, and a sly grin reaches your lips. “Are you trying to bribe me into becoming a regular?”
For a second, you swore you saw the corner of his mouth twitch - not a smile, but close. “Doesn’t take much.”
You laughed, caught off guard. He didn’t, but his gaze lingered a little too long as you picked up the bag, crimson eyes assessing your movements. When your fingers brushed his while grabbing the coffee cup, his hand twitched like he wanted to pull back - but didn’t. You could feel the heat starting to brew up the side of your neck, reaching for your cheeks.
Girl, hold it together.
“Thanks, uh…?” You said, waiting for a name.
“Katakuri.”
Gods he’s gorgeous.
You gave your name in return, and for the first time, his eyes softened. Just barely. With coffee and mochi in hand, you turned and made your way to the door. As you move to push it open with your hip, you hear a voice from behind you.
“Come back tomorrow.” Not a request, a quiet command.
Looking over your shoulder, you give a small smile and a noncommittal shrug of your shoulder as you step back out onto the snow dusted sidewalk.
Wait- was that cool, or lame? UGH.
And even though you had every intention of rushing to work, and forgetting this whole thing… you already knew you’d be back.