Blend 19

The fresh air did little to ease his nausea. Hachi was in pain, and a lot of it. His organs were failing. They had been failing for some time, but now it was like they were fully gone. No doubt, he looked pale; perhaps there was even a yellow tinge to his skin, a consequence of his liver failing. Each breath was more painful than it was worth. Ceasing breathing would be more desirable than putting up with it any more.

He reached into his pocket, his hands trembling slightly as he pulled out a blister pack of pills. Perhaps even his nerves were giving out, and that was the cause of his shaking. Or maybe he was scared of what was to come—his death.

Either way, he popped some of the painkillers, though he already knew it was futile. The ones he took in the morning did nothing to quell his pain. Perhaps it would be a blessing to die. If it meant he would not have to experience this pain any longer. Though, he still had one thing to do. He had to have his final coffee. The thing he had been longing for and dreading at the same time.

He stepped back into the café, expecting the silence to be able to do his thing, but instead, Clara was waiting for him behind the counter.

“What are you doing here? I thought I told you to go home.” Hachi commented, trying to encourage her to leave.

“I thought I would wait for you.”

“You didn’t need to do that. You should head off. We’re done for the day.”

She looked like she wanted to say something but seemed to bite her tongue. Finally, after an extended pause, she decided to say what she was holding back.

“Hachi, you don’t look well.” A concerned look was all over her face.

“I’m fine,” he snapped. He just wanted her to leave so he could make his final coffee and die without being a burden to anyone, especially not to her.

“How about you take a seat, and I will make you a coffee?” She offered.

“Fine,” Hachi caved.

“What do you want?”

Hachi thought for a bit. He was rapidly deteriorating. He now suspected he had minutes, not even hours, left. The thought terrified him. Not because he feared death. Perhaps he was in a state of death already, a walking corpse who had nothing to live for.

What truly terrified him was the thought that this may be his last coffee. No, this would definitely be the last coffee he would ever have. It had to be a good one.

“Clara, I’ll have a skim milk, flat white.” Perhaps this wasn’t the choice he would have gone for months ago. But this drink held a special spot in his heart. It was the same drink he had made for Clara the day she joined. There was something about her making it for him now that just felt right.

Clara happily went over to the machine and began preparing the coffee. Hachi could taste the blood in his mouth, though he did not say anything. He was going to enjoy this last coffee.

He watched as Clara grabbed the mugs and poured the coffee. He had watched her make coffee before while training her, but to see her from a customer's angle, he could observe the way she moved. It was like a dance, from the way she grounded the beans to the way she steamed the machine to how she poured the coffee. It was beautiful.

She had mastered the art of coffee. He could see how far she had come and how she was making this coffee with a lot of love. He didn’t even need to taste the coffee to know it would be perfect.

“Here you go, Hachi.”

She said, bringing it over to him. As she placed it gently on the table, he stared down at it—a swan.

“Where did you learn this?” Hachi asked. He was impressed, not just because it was perfect but also because he had never shown her how to do one.

“I’ve been practising myself,” she said, looking down. Clara was actually embarrassed. She tried her best. She had wanted to surprise Hachi with the swan for a long time. She hoped it would meet his expectations.

Hachi was impressed. It was perfect. He could see the effort she put into the drink. She really cared about it. Which is why he felt there was only one thing to do.

He took a sip. Paused for a moment. And then did something that he didn’t really want to do. He grabbed a napkin and spat the coffee into it. He quickly scrunched up the napkin to hide the blood that had mixed in with it.

“Clara. I’m disappointed in you. Not only was the swan terrible, but the coffee was awful.”

“I’m sorry, Hachi,” she replied, holding back tears.

“This is disgraceful. How dare you treat coffee like this.” He said this, yet he felt the words applied more to him than to her. She did nothing wrong.

“I’m sorry.”

“Clara!” Hachi stood up and slammed his hands down on the table. “If that’s the drivel you’ve been serving the customers, you’ve damaged the brand of 8-blends and everything I built up over the course of my time.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Get out. I never want to see you again.” Hachi yelled at Clara.

“Fine! Goodbye Hachi.” Clara yelled back. She ran over to the counter to grab her bag and stormed off, tears in her eyes. Slamming the door as she left.

The moment Clara left, Hachi slumped into the chair. Hachi was relieved. He knew he only had a few minutes left. His vision was blurring, and the buzzing of the café's lights was pounding in his head. He couldn’t have himself die in front of her. He couldn’t put that burden on her. With only minutes left, he had to get her out. Even if it meant she would hate him.

He reached into his pocket and scribbled a note. Once he was done, he drank coffee. He’d never tasted such wonderful coffee before. It was bitter but also sweet, much like his time with Clara.

He got up and put the coffee cup and note on the bench. He then sent a message to the ADV morgue, the group responsible for collecting ADV deceased bodies, before he coughed up some blood, stumbled over and collapsed on the floor.

He smiled one last time as he closed his eyes and faded into the eternal blackness. He had the most wonderful coffee before his death.

∘•········ʚ ♡ ɞ ········•∘

End of Chapter 19