Blend 2

Hachi hoped the previous day was all in his head. But checking his calendar reassured him that it was not. He agreed to let that girl, Clara, work at his café.

“Hey, master, I have something to ask you,” she said with a sparkly joy that was way too much for Hachi.

“Don’t call me master. It’s creepy. Call me Hachi.”

“Then Hachi, I have to ask you something.”

“What?”

“Why do your aprons have pockets?”

Hachi let out a small sigh. Of course, it was something stupid. He shouldn’t have asked.

“What’s with your obsession with pockets? In fact, don’t answer that. Those pockets are for when we are busy. You can keep a notepad and pen in it. If we get busy, you can scribble down orders.” Hachi explained.

“Is it busy often?” She asked, looking around the empty cafe.

“Does it look busy?”

“No.

“There’s your answer.”

“Then why have pockets?”

Hachi was exhausted already. He was already regretting his decision from the other day.

“It just does ok.”

The bell above the door rang, and a man who looked to be in his late twenties walked in.

“Welcome, what can I get you today?” Hachi asked the man.

“Could I get a long black?”

A long black, bitter coffee, good for those who wish to distract themselves from the wider world.

“Absolutely, have here or takeaway?”

He looked around at the empty café.

“Have here, thanks,” he responded.

“No worries, take a seat anywhere.”

He found a seat by the window. Much like with coffee, you can learn a lot about a person by where they sit in the cafe. If they sit near a window, they signal a longing. Perhaps they wish to be somewhere else or escape from something.

“You’re up, newbie; go fetch him some water.”

“Yes sir.” She replied and saluted Hachi.

“Don’t call me sir, just Hachi.”

“Alright, got it, Hachi.”

As she stumbled off, Hachi was focused on the long black. Many would assume a long black would be easier than some of the other types of coffee, but it was all about getting the right ratio for the beans. If you get it wrong, the coffee could be too bitter or too weak, and the beans could lose their flavour.

In some ways, a long black was even more challenging than milk-heavy coffee. You could hide a lot with milk. The double-shot espresso had to have the right consistency. In that, there were additional challenges. So, the appropriate love and care needed to go into making the long black. The coffee's rich aroma assisted Hachi in finding the right balance.

To finish the coffee, just the right amount of foam was required on top. Too much and it was ruined, too little and it was ruined. Hachi had prepared this many times, so it was second nature for him. The coffee was another masterpiece as far as Hachi was concerned.

Hachi brought the coffee over to the man. Clara had successfully brought him the water. Although she was driving him insane, she at least managed to do that well. Perhaps she wasn’t such a burden after all.

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” The man asked as Hachi gently placed the cup down.

It should be alright if you don’t ask to work here. I can’t handle anyone else. Hachi thought to himself.

“Absolutely, what can I do for you?” Hachi responded.

“Have you ever thought about committing suicide?”

You should think about the coffee rather than focusing on life or death. It’s a masterpiece, Hachi thought to himself.

“I can’t say that I have,” Hachi responded earnestly.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about it a bit lately, but I can’t decide whether or not I should take my own life.”

“Well, that’s ultimately your decision. I am just a barista." Hachi responded apathetically. Honestly, Hachi didn’t care one way or another what this guy did. As long as the man didn’t do it in his café, it wasn’t Hachi’s problem.

“You can’t say that!” Clara scolded Hachi before telling the man, “You shouldn’t wish to die.”

“It’s not like that; I’m scared of the consequences of ADV. They say your organs shut down. Apparently, it’s extremely painful, just like a terminal cancer. I was thinking, would it be better if I killed myself before any of the pain sets in.” He replied.

“Isn’t that euthanasia rather than suicide then?” Clara commented.

“Well, I don’t know the semantics. I was just wondering what your thoughts on it would be.”

“It’s up to you; I’m a complete stranger running a coffee shop. As long as you pay before you leave and don’t do it in my shop, I don’t care what you do.” Hachi responded coldly.

“I see, well I suppose you aren’t much help then.” He asked Clara, “What about you? Would you take your life or wait it out to the end?”

She paused to think. “Hmm, that’s a good question. I suppose I never thought about it before.”

Yet you thought extensively about pockets. Hachi thought to himself.

“I think it goes like all forms of terminal illnesses; if it’s painful, then it’s a discussion for you, your doctors and your loved ones.”

“I guess, I just don’t want it to be excruciating, where my quality of life is diminished. Especially if I get to a point where my family has to decide on my behalf. I don’t want to put them through that.”

“Are you in pain right now?” Clara asked.

“No.”

“Then why live your life in fear? Enjoy the moments while you can. ADV doesn’t happen instantly overnight. You’ll have time to figure it out when it happens. You can make plans now, but you should also enjoy the time you have left.” She replied.

“Thank you, thank you. Perhaps you’re right. Maybe I should just enjoy spending time with my family. I mean, my thoughts on this were because I was worried about their wellbeing. But Perhaps I was so distracted I forgot about what mattered most.”

Coffee, Hachi thought.

“That’s alright, I’m glad we helped,” Clara responded.

“I don’t know how to thank you both enough.”

“Perhaps order a caramel slice to go,” Hachi prompted. He had made too many and needed to get rid of some. Another day, and they would go stale.

“Alright, I will thank you again.”

He paid for his coffee and his caramel slice and left.

“Mr Hachi! You can’t be saying things like you don’t care about people talking about suicide.”

Depressed, satisfied with life, it’s all the same as long as they pay. He thought to himself, but he knew if he said this out loud, he would get drawn into a protracted conversation.

He didn’t want to go through all that hassle. He could spend that time making a coffee for himself, so he responded.

“Alright.”

∘•········ʚ ♡ ɞ ········•∘

End of Chapter 2