Snippets of Time // Bungou Stray Dogs x Reader One-Shots

Black Hazelnut Brew to Warm the Fingers // Oguri Mushitarou x Reader

I noticed a terrible lack of Oguri stories in this fandom, so what better way to make my return by presenting you all with a story featuring one of my favourite characters of all time? This honestly isn't intended to be a romantic one shot, but you can interpret it however you please :) This is (I think) only the second story I'm writing in this book for myself rather than you guys, my readers, and so I like to see this more as a friendship story rather than a love story, since I'm not all that interested in men, myself (nor am I too worried about relationships at all). So I write this as a sweet, platonic story, but again, you are welcome to interpret it however you'd like. And no matter how you look at it, I hope you enjoy!

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Yokomizo, I met someone the other day.

Oguri Mushitarou didn't have anything to do at the moment; nothing to do but sip his coffee in the peaceful quiet of the small café he found himself seated in. It was rather late, most people were home at this hour, and most businesses were starting to close up for the night. This café tended to stay open on the late side, so it was a safe haven from the world outside that a few certain types of people found to enjoy. He was one of them.

Mushitarou found himself in this café more and more often these days, having nothing better to do. He liked to come late at night, at hours like this, because he could always be alone with his thoughts while not being alone at all. He had the company of the baristas and servers, as well as the few other customers that wandered in and out in the late hours of the evening, while still keeping the peace and quiet of solitude that he so enjoyed. That's what he told himself, anyway.

Tonight, he found himself being one of two customers. He, a rather lonely man with a stuck-up façade, and a young woman, who sat in a booth on the opposite side of the café, who seemed to be untidy and focused. He scoffed lightly as his eyes wandered over to the woman. She was a bit of a mess, it seemed. She had multiple empty cups sitting on her table, which told Mushitarou that she had been at this café for a while— probably hours. Her hair and clothes were a bit disheveled, but she didn't seem to notice because she seemed to be heavily pulled in by whatever she was doing. Mushitarou became a bit curious as to what had this woman so focused, so he looked closer. It seems that she was busily writing whilst looking through some of the books and papers she had with her. What was she doing?

The young man hadn't realised that he had been staring until the woman's head suddenly looked up from her table. That uncanny ability that humans had— some more than others— to sense when someone was looking at them must have kicked in, and she turned her head to look over at the one other customer in this small, quiet café.

The two stared at each other for a moment— the woman, confused, and Mushitarou, a bit embarrassed. He averted his eyes quickly, busying them by idly reading the menu at the till and sipping his coffee. The woman tilted her head a bit in more confusion, though now she was intrigued. She was vaguely aware that there was another customer present in the café, but she hadn't really noticed him. Now that she had, she found herself intrigued, because Mushitarou was a bit of an intriguing man.

Before she could think any further, this intriguing man stood from his table as she still kept her eyes on him. He brought his cup to the till and headed for the door, walking at a bit of a brisk pace. Perhaps he wanted to get away because the woman was still staring. The bell at the door jingled as Mushitarou left, and that seemed to be that. The woman went back to her work, the café wouldn't close for another forty minutes or so.

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The very next day, the woman came in around lunch time and set herself up at the same booth from last night in the little café. She pulled out her papers and pens from her bag and set them on the table, then her books. She had a few more books today than she did yesterday— she always preferred books over laptops and things of the like. Once she had a cup of coffee, she picked up from where she left off the night before.