Breaking Wave

Chapter 3: Pretty brown eyes

Kaito

The sun was already high in the sky as I shuffled through the campus coffee shop, balancing a tray with a stack of textbooks, a latte, and a paper bag filled with a croissant. The shop was buzzing with the usual activity: students hunched over laptops, chatting in animated groups, or just taking a break from their hectic schedules. The air was rich with the aroma of freshly ground coffee and the sweet, buttery scent of pastries.

I slid into my usual spot by the window, a well-worn armchair that felt like my personal retreat. I set my things down and took a sip of my coffee, savoring the warmth. Outside, the campus quad was alive with movement—people darting past, laughter ringing out, and snippets of conversation floating through the air. It was the perfect spot for people-watching, which had become my favorite pastime during these quiet breaks. But not today.

I reached into my bag, pulling out my earbuds to drown out the surrounding noise. As I was about to put them in, a small voice broke through my thoughts.

"Mommy, can we go on the swings first when we reach the park?." I looked out the window and saw a Mrs Davis by the car and her child inside, holding a toy car. The boy was tugging impatiently at her hand.

"Of course, sweetie," she replied, her voice gentle and full of affection.

"We’ll go on the swings, and then maybe we can get ice cream after. But that'll be when I'm true with work." She nods at him before shutting the door and the car drove off. The simple, tender interaction hit me like a punch to the gut. It reminded me of the days when my mother and I would spend time together. I could see her clearly, her warm smile and encouraging words. She’d always been my rock, especially during the moments when I was struggling to learn football.One day, I’d been playing with her cheering me on from the sidelines. I remember the pride in her voice, the way she clapped for every small victory I had. But that day turned tragic. Her cries for help still echoed in my ears, and the fear of seeing her struggling, helpless, was a memory that haunted me.

The sound of the child’s voice and the mother’s calm reassurance was a stark contrast to the chaos of my memories. The ordinary, loving exchange brought back the pain of losing mum.

The bell of the shop tinkled as the door swung open, pulling me from my reverie. I glanced up and saw Jenna, one of the shop’s regulars, enter. She had an effortlessly radiant smile that seemed almost too bright for the gray morning. Her auburn hair cascaded in loose waves around her shoulders, and her outfit—a fitted pink blouse and a pair of denim shorts—accentuated her lively personality.

"Hey, Kaito." She called out, her voice a cheerful interruption to my brooding. She made a beeline for my table, her eyes sparkling. "Mind if I join you?" . Before I could respond, she had already pulled out a chair and settled down, her movements confident and uninvited. She set her bag down with a flourish, her eyes never leaving mine. I sigh inwardly and place my buds back in its case.

"So, what’s the latest?" she asked, leaning in slightly. The scent of her floral perfume mixed with the coffee, creating a heady mix that was hard to ignore. Her proximity and smile were intended to charm, but today, I wasn’t in the mood for small talk, nor her charms. I shrugged, trying to keep my distance.

"Just the usual. The team’s struggling, and I’m trying to keep up with everything." Jenna tilted her head, her expression shifting to one of sympathy.

"I get it. The pressure can be a lot. But, if you ever need to blow off some steam, you know where to find me." She reached out, her fingers brushing my forearm in a gesture that was both casual and intimate. I gave a small smile then pulled my hand away as if her touch had burned me.