Chapter 58: -Kazuya- Café of Memory

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The day went on as usual, except for a secret. Warming my hands was a dark liquid in a white mug. It smelled of mint and dark chocolate. I'd drank two of them, and now toward the mid-afternoon, I was drinking a third. 

Not one customer knew that the mint hot chocolate today hadn't been made by me. It was a dupe, made by an amateur who'd never made chocolate before. Yet, it was perfect. His careful hands had made sure, mixing the chocolate with love and eagerness. Attention to detail unmatched, with a passion that I didn't know was there. 

This spark I'd felt as he'd worked on it. The imagination in his eyes, like a kid discovering a new and much beloved activity. I'd known he liked chocolate. He sought it out wherever he was. A chocolate box at the movie theater. Buying chocolate nuts from me. Preferring chocolate cake and mousse. But, his fascination with making it was a magic that went beyond liking chocolate. 

And this passion, watching him mix it together. His excitement. It had made me feel something that I was still feeling. It was an excitement inside of myself, holding this mug and peering down at the melted liquid, steaming up and cooling down if I didn't drink it. As the warmth met my lips, I closed my eyes. The strong flavor, buttery and abundantly sweet with a hint of bitterness and mint leaves, flooded my mouth. Holding it there, remembering his eyes, his smile. It was as if he were touching me, making my heart become alive just like when he was here making this chocolate.

This feeling. This knowing, when he'd put the ingredients in. It was him showing who he really is. No hiding. He was always quiet and reserved, not saying much. Shy when around Nikki and Hanako. Hesitant, clumsy. He tried to be bold with them, but often failed. When he was with me, he was shy, too, but in a different way. But, what I'd seen this morning was different. I wanted to see more of it. He didn't need to be ashamed. What had he felt when he was making this chocolate?

There were still about five cubes of this chocolate left. Five lucky customers would get to taste it. No one had commented about it, meaning that they were satisfied. It made me think. His chocolate. Just the idea that it was his...it made my heart tremble in nervousness. A blush on my cheeks. 

When he'd left this morning 5:30, I hadn't wanted him to go. But, he had a job to do. He'd stayed as long as he could. I'd sent him off with some milk chocolate peanuts that I'd made yesterday. Wanting him to taste sweet chocolate, after he'd eaten a block of bitter baker's chocolate. He didn't even get to taste what he'd created. We'd put his two small batches in the molds and set them in the refrigerator to solidify. He'd enjoyed this process, too. The attention he paid to them...it was like they were precious things. 

The more I thought about it, the more I wanted him to come back and make chocolate with me again. It sparked something in me that perhaps I had lost over the years. His new fascination, like a youthful curiosity. I was by no means going through the motions when I made pastries and chocolates, but he was like a kid on their first day of school. So much to discover, looking at me like a patient teacher. I wanted to teach him more. What more did he want to know? Even more so, I wanted to see that look on his face. He'd started out sad, his mind on something that I could only guess at. But, when he'd left, he was smiling. He'd rattled his milk chocolate peanuts at me as a good-bye, that smile so wide. 

I wanted him to come back and still be smiling. Come through the door and hug me. This morning, I'd touched his body as I'd silently instructed him how to make the mint chocolate. The small touches were like electricity going directly to my heart, waking me up. As memories of him mixing the chocolate came to mind, of him pouring it carefully into the molds as he smiled down at it with his dimples showing gently... His arms around me now would be like a mini explosion inside. Needing him, wanting him. The wool of his coat on my arms, his warm body being held by me. His arms around me as he smiled gently at me, just like when he was pouring chocolate. 

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