DUSTED MELODY [BL]

chapter9 : Coffee

The library air hung heavy, thick enough to slice with a katana. Ezra and Mateo sat across from each other, both pretending to be super invested in their textbooks. It was like a staring contest between statues – who could be the most awkwardly still?

Finally, Ezra couldn't take the silence any longer. It felt like a tiny sumo wrestler was having a wrestling match with boredom inside his head. "So," he blurted out, "do you have any favorite Japanese singers who don't sound like they're trapped in a karaoke booth with a broken microphone?. My favourite is Fuji Kaze"

Mateo sighed dramatically, burying his face deeper into his laptop screen, even though it was off. Ezra swore he saw his own reflection staring back, judging his terrible joke.

"Maybe music isn't your thing," Ezra mumbled, feeling his cheeks heat up. "I just, uh, really love how music can express a bunch of confusing emotions you can't quite put into words... like the sudden urge to flee the library because you feel like a nervous puppy with the zoomies!"

A snort escaped Mateo, startling Ezra like a fire alarm. He peeked over the laptop to see a hint of a smile playing on Mateo's lips. "Look," Mateo said, his voice softer than Ezra expected, "we're here to learn Japanese, not practice your stand-up routine for a cat cafe."

Ezra grinned. "Okay, okay, point taken. But seriously, learning basic phrases is way more fun if we imagine we're undercover spies trying to blend in. Like, how would you say 'Excuse me, where's the bathroom? Because apparently, my coffee had the zoomies too!'"

Mateo's smile widened, and for a second, Ezra thought he saw a flicker of something else in his eyes – maybe even a spark of mischief? This goofy approach might actually work!

Now, down to business. Ezra decided to ditch the music talk and focus on the basics. He broke down simple Japanese phrases into bite-sized pieces, like explaining how to order a giant bowl of ramen. He even threw in some silly jokes.

"Alright," Ezra said, trying to lighten the mood. "First lesson: How to politely ask for things. In Japanese, to say 'excuse me' you can say 'sumimasen' (soo-mee-ma-sen). It's like the magic word to get someone's attention without yelling 'Hey you!' across the crowded sushi bar."

The silence in the library remained thick, but a small crack of understanding had appeared. Ezra, relieved by Mateo's earlier smile, decided to ditch the jokes for a while and focus on explaining basic Japanese phrases in bite-sized pieces. Greetings, simple questions, even how to order a giant bowl of ramen (a topic that sparked a flicker of interest in Mateo for a brief moment).

Despite Ezra's serious tone, the library remained stubbornly quiet except for the scratch of pencils on paper. Mateo seemed on edge, glancing nervously towards the entrance every few minutes. A crease formed between his brows, and he gnawed Ezra noticed Mateo's focus drift. He was staring intently at the floor, lost in thought. Wanting to get his attention back, Ezra did something impulsive. He reached out and gently turned Mateo's head towards him. Mateo's eyes widened in shock, like a deer caught in headlights. his lower lip. 

"Whoa, sorry!" Ezra stammered, quickly pulling his hand back. "I just needed you to, uh, 'genki desu ka?' (gen-ki desu ka?) on this next phrase."

Mateo's surprised expression softened a bit. "'Genki desu ka?'" he repeated, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. This meant "How are you?" in Japanese.

The awkward tension eased back into a comfortable silence. They studied for what felt like hours, the library slowly emptying around them. Finally, Ezra stretched, feeling the familiar ache in his back. "Hey, I'm gonna grab some coffee from the cafe downstairs. Want anything?"

Mateo hesitated, then mumbled, "No, thanks."

Ezra nodded and left the library, the door swinging shut behind him. A few minutes later, he re-entered, a steaming cup in his hand.

As he scanned the library for Mateo, Ezra spotted him heading for the exit. "Hey, Mateo!" he called out a little too loudly.

Suddenly, a hand clamped over his mouth. A stern-looking librarian, previously unnoticed, stood behind him, her lips pursed in a silent "shush." Startled, Ezra jumped and tripped, landing on the floor with a thud. He squeezed his eyes shut, mortified.

Opening his eyes, he saw Mateo staring at him blankly. Ezra gulped and cleared his throat awkwardly. "Uhm..." he began.

The librarian disappeared. Still standing there, Ezra and Mateo exchanged a look. Taking a deep breath, Ezra managed a sheepish smile. "Hi," he said.

After a tense silence of about twenty seconds, a giggle escaped Mateo's lips. The giggle turned into a full-blown laugh, and Ezra couldn't help but grin. "Wow," he said, mesmerized.

Mateo's laughter subsided, and he looked at Ezra, a questioning look in his eyes. "What?" he simply asked.

Ezra, still a little flustered, just shrugged. Without another word, they both sat back down and returned to their Japanese studies, the awkward tension replaced by a newfound sense of... well, something.