Sweet Tooth/Sweet Dreams

Well, it's the small things in life that matter.

My cherry-topped parfait gazed up at me from the cafe table, tempting me like a cold seductress. Hypnotically sweet scents were making their way up my nose that helped sooth bottled tensions away. Combined with whiffs of coffee from the distant front counter, it was a relaxing atmosphere and an ideal getaway.

Over by the corner, crowds gathered near a vintage record player that played soft jazz for patrons waiting in line.

While humming some catchy songs, I fiddled with the spoon between my fingers, eager to get my mind off things. The window next to me showcased a quaint street lined with shops as people walked underneath a setting, oozing sun. 

It was an otherwise normal end to a normal day—for everyone except me. 

I'd clocked out from work hours ago after coworkers tried consoling me for what occurred earlier with the senior DeLightful. Now I dawdled at a cafe that doubled as a sweets shop, where friends after work rarely visited due to distance. I just wanted a place to unwind and hide my shame, away from familiar faces. 

Just a bit more then we're good to go. There was zero chance I'd let myself return home in the quivering state I wallowed in prior. Asagiri would pepper me with questions, and most of all, I just didn't want her worrying. That's why I didn't mention the DeLightful couple at the movies or anything else related to my nihilism.

Imagine her reaction if she learned my horniness was just a facade I kept up as a wall to separate people from the real me . . . Well, I am perpetually horny though, but it'd be nice if I could hide it better.

I'd lied and texted Asagiri earlier that I went shopping with a coworker, so she could start eating dinner without me. But how did my girlfriend feel always being alone in that big house? She was probably content just lazing around, though subjecting her to the same loneliness I'd endured felt wrong. Maybe another date sometime would brighten us both up.

An attractive, red-haired woman clinging onto her prized boyfriend walked by me. The door with an attached bell rang loudly as the couple huddled outside, smiling like they were enjoying their time together.

Asagiri . . . I stared at the vacant chair in front of me and sighed.

Footsteps. My head turned to the side: a tall, lanky man with perfect facial features and beige hair blessed the air around us. Short bangs he nudged to the side radiated an American rockstar vibe that complimented his saggy pants and black, decal t-shirt.

"Ah, Nishikata, it is you. Cozy surprise," my head manager said.

"Ka-Kamikawa?" I stammered. "What are you doing here?"

He gestured to the colorful to-go box hanging from a handle under his hand. "Father asked to pick up pastries on my way back from work. You know how insatiable his sweet tooth is."

His dad—Sir Kamikawa—was the owner and former manager of Kamikawa Books where I worked. When his son had gained enough experience as assistant manager, Sir Kamikawa retired and left most of the store's responsibilities to the Kamikawa currently standing in front of me.

"Oh, how's your dad doing?" I said. "Been a while since he's dropped by the shop."

"He's sublime, thanks for asking. I'm a bit more curious about your condition though."

"Hmmm?"

He smiled and raised his pastry box towards my table's vacant chair, as if asking permission to sit.

"P-Please, go right ahead!"

"Many thanks!" Kamikawa shimmied his way into the chair in a rather feminine fashion, attracting the attention of at least two nearby women. Their eyes immediately displayed their love-struck infatuations.

My manager, while gorgeous, had little fashion sense and just wore whatever he'd read about recently in books. Some days he'd rock gothic, other times punk, sometimes wild western or skater—personally, I thought he looked best in our store's white dress shirts and blue aprons. The combo matched his kindred, humble demeanor well.

"So," he started, "have you decided if you'd like to take tomorrow off? It's really not an issue considering all you experienced today."

"Ah. I'm still kinda processing things, so I'll text Asada tonight and let her know how I'm doing."

His sweet, caramel eyes tried reading my face. "She might give off an attitude sometimes, but in a weird way, that's how she conveys she's worried about someone."

All her biting and yelling meant something? The sarcastic thought amused me. "Asada and I go back and forth; though yeah, she's still someone I respect."

"Same. Father acknowledged her enough to promote her to assistant manager after all."

"How long has it been? Two years? Time flies."

"Mhmmm." Kamikawa opened up the pastry box and pulled out a fruit-stuffed strudel. "Would you like one, Nishikata?"

"Oh, I'm fine! Crammed full of ice cream right now."

"Suit yourself." His gleaming, white teeth bit down on the treat. He quickly chewed and gave me another glance. "Also, I heard Mogami was the one that swooped to your rescue today. Sorry I was busy in the office room when everything happened."

"No biggie. Mogami did me a solid and handled things professionally. No wonder he almost became assistant manager."

Kamikawa went in for another bite. "Maybe I was a little biased since I've known Mogami since high school, but I was indeed rooting for him—not to discredit Asada though. Father was still just a bit weary of him for such a promotion."

All of Kamikawa Book's current seven employees were its original staff, apart from Summers who filled a vacancy after Sir Kamikawa retired. We'd been in business for four years and not one person had been fired or quit, which showed the love management gave us, and vice-versa. Everyone in our little family knew each other well.

Only Mogami and Kamikawa's exact history together remained an enigma to us all. And I was curious.

"Yeah, I heard your dad only hired Mogami because you insisted on it. Did something happen between them?"

"Nothing at all." His face turned listless, almost conflicted. "Father just remembered Mogami's previous tendencies, so some misunderstandings still lingered even a decade later."

I could tell the topic made him uneasy. Both Mogami and Kamikawa were 28 years old and had been acquainted since their early teens. That was the extent either of them had been willing to divulge of their pasts.

"Ah, sorry. Probably pried more than necessary," I said. "I'm always causing some sort of trouble, huh?"

"No trouble!" Kamikawa shook his hands towards me. "There's just topics Mogami is better suited for explaining, if he ever feels comfortable."

"Heh, probably not any time soon then. He's tight lipped."

It was hard to imagine that womanizing, muscle-bro harboring a bashful side. Even so, I didn't consider Mogami a bad person and actually liked his company. Maybe Kamikawa just used a wrong choice of words to describe whatever they went through together.

My manager nibbled the last bits of fruit strudel and wiped his lips clean with a napkin. "Anyway, I should get going before Father raids the cookie jar again."

"Oh! If you'd like, I can treat you to one of these parfaits!" I pointed towards the bowl of ice cream ahead of me. "They're really good!"

"Thanks, but no thanks," he said as he stood. "You probably came to this out-of-the-way cafe to avoid running into coworkers, so I'll get out of your hair now."

Well he's not wrong. "Guess I'll unwind some more before heading home, haha."

"Take your time." Kamikawa picked up his pastry box and gave me a wave. "And holler if there's ever anything on your mind. You're part of our family after all."

"Yeah. Thanks for putting up with me all these years." I gave a slight bow from my seat.

"Mmm! Take care then!" He unintentionally commanded every nearby woman's attention as he walked out the door like a bonafide rockstar. The bell jingled on his way out, and even the women outside gawked while he strolled away. Or maybe they're just weirded out by his taste in fashion.

That reminded me: If Kamikawa's dad has a big soft spot for sweets, I probably know someone else with a cataclysmically bigger sweet tooth.

With a huff I slung my backpack back over my shoulders and headed for the front register, wallet ready in hand.

*

A dark ceiling and an even darker room were enveloping me. My eyes had since adjusted to night, so I could faintly make out the game posters taped above as I lay in my bed.

Azure Mane . . . It was one of my favorite gacha games, about girls racing on horses atop huge aircraft carriers. Ever since I snagged my job at a bookstore though, I'd been reading more than gaming or even watching anime. Before Kamikawa Books, I'd just work wherever would hire me with only a high school diploma. Mental trauma from the Noriko incident alongside years of perceived alienation made it tough to socialize normally, and even harder to hold a steady job.

But maybe all I needed were some eccentric coworkers to help bust me out of my shell: Asada and Kikuchi, Mogami and Kamikawa, Summers and Nemoto—if it wasn't for them, I'd definitely be just a memory by now. Noriko's reappearance a year ago ignited old scars, especially with news she was married. Combined with failing to keep my promise to her and the realization I’d accomplished nothing in life, only led to the downward spiral towards darkness that Asagiri ultimately pulled me out from.

I'm good at keeping myself awake at night, if nothing else. I sighed and pulled the blanket over my head, attempting another try at sleep.

Two soft knocks suddenly tapped on my door.

"Huh?" I sat up, confused. "Asagiri? Is that you?"

"Yeah." Her soft voice hummed from the other side.

"Do you, uh, need something?" We both went to bed an hour ago. What's going on?

"Can I come in?" she timidly asked.

Sure! "Sure?" There were two sides to every man.

My door crept open and a sleepy Asagiri in pink pajamas appeared. Snuggled between her left arm was a plushie of Bubbly the bee girl.

"Uhhh, what's up?" I said.

She closed the door behind her. Without a word she ambled towards the computer chair and rolled it beside my bed. Under glimmering moonlight, Asagiri's sapphire eyes glided into view as she shimmied herself onto the chair near me.

"Something the matter?" I asked.

"Nuh-uh." She gently shook her head. "I just wanted to see you."

"See me?" Kind of an awkward time. "About what?"

I saw her lips curve into a smile. She scooted the chair closer and relaxed her upper body on my bed. "Those fruit-stuffed strudels you brought me today were really good. Sorry I acted sassier than usual and didn't thank you."

"Oh that, don't worry about it. I'm used to your personality by now."

I waited to be dealt a witty retort, but nothing came. Instead, Asagiri's hand snaked across the bed and found mine, enveloping it. We linked like a real couple again as our fingers intertwined.

"There's something I'm worried about though," she mumbled.

"Oh?"

Her eyes tried finding mine in the darkness, while hers remained sparkling in moonlight shining through the window. "When you came home from work, you looked a little gloomy. Did something happen today?"

Huh? I swear I'd calmed down by the time I got home. How'd she still pick up on something? "N-Nothing happened. Well, I guess I did get blown out by a coworker I was hitting on though, haha . . ."

Her face soured for a second, but she relaxed herself with a disappointed sigh. No words.

"Hmmm?" I said. "If you don't want me finding a real girlfriend, just ask and I'll stop. I'm happy just playing pretend with you."

"What guy would be happy with just this?" I felt her hand squeeze mine. "You want sex but—I can't—I can't give you anything like that. Sorry for being selfish."

I gently squeezed her hand back. "Nah, I'm the one that had selfish thoughts when you first showed up. Besides, that disclaimer I read said not to have any expectations, right? So don't worry about keeping me happy like it's your job."

Her mouth opened as if to speak but cut itself off. She stretched forward and fully laid her head on my bed. "Well whatever. I'll just spend the night with you like this; that way you can at least brag you've slept with a woman before."

Ignoring her roast, my mind raced to compute a reply:

Option 1: 'You don't have to do that for me, Asagiri!'

Option 2: 'Wanna hop on the bed and just snuggle then?'

But I ended up going with just silence. We continued holding hands as I got comfy and curled myself to give her head more space on the bed.

"Not gonna say a lame comeback?" she said with a giggle.

In that darkness I couldn't read her face, though I hoped she could read the bliss on my own.

"Goodnight, Keiko."