Sweet Tooth [Ushijima x Reader]

7

The rain droplets got heavier, so did my heartbeat. We were now sitting. The rain did want to stop. He kept a straight face.

I looked around, too awkward to face him. He reached his tiny sports backpack and took out a wooden fork. I was shocked. He came prepared. I caught myself glaring. He suddenly looked at me.

"Would you like some?" He asked. I stuttered to answer. I softly said no. But he did not hear me...as a large bus drove past by. He went on to offer me the first bite.

Too afraid to repeat no, I did not refuse this time. I took the fork and took a bite. It was delicious.

I nodded and murmured thank you. He nodded with his straight face.

He went on to take a bite after that. It was so awkward and silly. I barely knew him; here we are, randomly sharing muffins under a rainy night. The rain could not get any heavier. I was afraid I'd reach home like this.

He was a slow eater. He took each bite of the muffin carefully. He systematically dipped each piece with the whipped cream on top. I never knew you could eat desserts so systematically. I caught myself now softly smiling. I was not sure if he felt awkward, too, because his face remained emotionless even if he did.

He offered me a bite again.

"It's alright, you can have it," I said.
"You took a bite earlier..." He said it, confused. I guess he assumed we were now sharing.
 "No, it's okay. I am fine. You are the customer," I said.
"But I have not paid you yet." He replied. Oh shit, that is right, I completely forgot.
 "I was hoping not to charge you until you finished your meal." I awkwardly reply, trying to hide my dumb-ass self of forgetting.

"I apologise. I was not planning to force you. I've been told to share sweets and desserts if I am around people." He informed me.
"Oh, really? That is a nice gesture." I replied, did not know where he was heading with this conversation.
"I understand its different here." He continued. He slowly took out his wallet and gave me 13 dollars. I was surprised he knew the price.
 "I apologise for giving you 60$ last time. I do not know how tipping works." He clarified.
 "I -uh, thank you", I took. "Don't worry about it." I continued. He nodded.

Awkward silence.

I decided to break it—so much pressure.

"Um, I hoped. I hoped you liked the food today." I enquired.
"Me?" He looked slightly confused. "I mean, all of you. You and the team of yours." I smiled.
 "Oh, yes. I've been informed they really liked the food." He answered.
 "Really? I am glad." I smiled—awkward silence.

"You...really knew their orders. You must know them very well." I try to compliment it.
"I think so. I've mostly guessed from what I've known about them since high school." He informed me.
"High-school?" I ask.
"Yes, most of us played against each other or were friends since high-school, " he answered.
 My eyes widened a little. "Wow, that is cool. You guys must be close." I smiled.
"Not really. But I don't mind them." He continued eating without many expressions.
 "Oh...they seem nice. You are lucky," I reply. He tilted his head slightly, wondering what I mean.

"I mean, good friends are hard to find. I don't have much luck with knowing a lot of people." I answer.
"I see." He remained stoic. I smiled and nodded.
"What about you y/n-san? Do you have people close to you?" He tried to do his best to keep me less isolated. I did appreciate it slightly.

"Umm...no and yes," I say.
"Sorry?" he was confused.
 "Well, I have got friends, I share certain things, somethings I don't. Everything is contextual in my case." I say.
He slowly nods with his hands on his chin. "Interesting." He replies. "Are you the baker for the desserts in your shop?" He enquires.
For some reason, I laughed. "If you're wondering if I baked these. I certainly haven't. This is the cafe's speciality, Ms Hana's recipe. Top secret." I reply gleefully.
 "Ms Hana?" He enquires.

A sad feeling went across my chest.

I was missing Ms Hana. Boss' wife.

"She was the one who opened the shop, a kind, sweet, funny Japanese lady. The shop is the only living memory of her: her recipes, her designs, her interiors, the colours of the walls. She passed away last summer. Now her husband, Boss, manages the cafe. We help him around with the baking." I clear his doubts.

His eyes were now intrigued.

"She was Japanese?" He asks.
 "yeah...Boss is Japanese too. He didn't see him today cause he was out for work." I reply.
"So he bakes it?" He asks.
"No...he does not anything about cooking or baking. He manages the shop. I, or  Ryan, Marie or Will usually bake it. But the ingredients list stays with him. There are 4 to 6 desserts we don't know the recipe of, except Mrs Hashimoto, Ms Hana's mother, who bakes it and sends it off to the shop." I explain.

"oh", He remains focused. "I really like the desserts in your shop." He tried to compliment, but of course, his stoic face did not help. It was cute, nonetheless.

"I am glad." I smiled.
"The souffle was ..." he tried to speak. I panicked.
"...sorry if it was too bland. I tried..." I explained.
He interrupted..." I was trying to say. It was delicious y/n san", He informs.
 "Oh, thank you." I blush a little. "
You are a good baker, y/n san" He nods.
 "I would like to have your other recipes as well." He ....slightly.....smiled.

The awkward silence was now a comfortable one.

He was done eating. The rain finally stopped. It was now a soft drizzle. I did not realise when it stopped raining heavily.

" Rain has stopped." He pointed out. I snapped into reality.

"oh yes, it did. Thank goodness." I smile. "I must get going..." I inform.

"I'll drop you off at the bus-stop." He got up and wore his backpack. Before I could answer.... 

"Just a second..." He took the box, carefully folded. Tossed the trash aside and put in the dustbins according to the recyclable ones and wet waste. He went near the parking spot and took out a bicycle, and walked towards the shelter again. Guess he rode from the hotel.
"Shall we?" He asks. I could not say no.

 I looked at the clock. Oh shit, I missed the last bus.

"Umm...Ushijima-san?" I was scared.
"yes", He remained stoic.
"I missed the last bus..." I frown.
"Oh, that is not good", He replied with a monotone voice. I do a slight nod.

"How far is your home?" He asks.

"15 minutes walk," I say. I see him look around the clear dark street—a car with a bunch of guys screaming past by.

"I'll walk you home..." he immediately replied. I bowed with thanks. I did not have to explain to him....he was already a gentleman, He understood. He already picked up my backpack and his and tied on his bike's seat.

It completely stopped raining. Clear skies, I saw the stars and the moon shone brightly.