astronaut

Natsume Youji said nothing when I burst into the kitchen. I seldom had; I hated it. The last time I'd come in, grease had stained the walls, knives been scattered throughout the table on the middle as though it were the battlefield. Now, for the first time, I could fully discern the color of the paint—ocre—and step inside without feeling as though a ghost would stab me. More than usual, anyway. "Please let me have kitchen duties," I told him. "I'm begging you."

From the way he looked at me, I might have just thanked him for riding me again. "Didn't you mention setting your kitchen on fire the other day?"

"Um. But. But that was with omurice. There's no omurice in the menu."

"...I'd have to ask Mr. Clarence."

"He'll say no."

"Then why ask?"

I felt betrayed. And stupid. I'd been stabbed after all. "Why don't you call him Clarence-chan, too?" I grumbled, turning on my heels. "I'm just 'Isao'. I see how it is."

I slammed the door shut so I wouldn't hear his response. Rima jumped, as did one of the clients nearby. "Stop harassing me or I'll call the cops," I told her. Was it me, or did her and the client nearby exchange conspiratorial glances? Probably me. 

"Okay. Um. I'm sorry."

I went back to my spot at the counter.

"Really," said Ootsuki Rima.

Maybe she thought I was angry. Honestly, that was better than her realizing I'd just slammed the door to avoid hearing Natsume Youji. I shouldn't have said what I said. I'd said I didn't want to think anymore, but that, that was the result.

Since there was nothing to do because nobody came to this dump, I took out my textbooks, then began to do homework. Ootsuki Rima played on her phone, so it's not like she could snitch. Whenever someone called us or walked in, we scrambled back into position. She played the same gacha as I did. I'd always kind of wanted to ask her who her favorite character was, but if I did, she might ask for my user ID, and she'd notice right away that I spent (way too much) money on it. Did she? 

"Hey, Kiryuuin, mind if I go to break? No one has showed up in a while, anyway."

"Yes. I mean I don't mind. So no."

Used to this, she said thank you and left. A pack of students wearing the same uniform as her showed up within minutes, so this had been no coincidence. More importantly: they sat on the same table as the girl that'd stiffened for Natsume Youji. Younger people didn't scare me, so I didn't have much trouble taking their orders. "That him?" Asked one of the girls. She wore a lot of makeup. Did the makeup wear her?

The usual girl shook her head, then batted her eyelids at me. She wore no makeup, so the makeup couldn't wear her. "Could you ask him to take my order again? Please?"

Another seam ripped, and another. 

Was it because of her condescending tone? 

Was it because that'd mean having to deal with my terrible behavior when facing Natsume Youji again?

Was it because I used to think of her as a comrade with no friends, and now the illusion had shattered?

Yes. "I would, but. All the other kitcheners, um, cooks are on break, so he's the only one. So he can't leave the kitchen alone because then nobody would be there and it'd catch fire."

One of the other girls burst out laughing. The one next to her whispered something to her ear, and they giggled together, against me. "Oh," said the original one. "That's fine, then. Maybe he can bring us the coffee once everyone is back at the kitchen. Is that okay?"

I kind of thought she'd get mad. It was easier to be passive-aggressive at customers when they got mad. I nodded. 

She didn't smile. "Nice. I'll have the usual, then."

"Ice coffee for me."

"Lemonade please!"

"I want a latte and a chocolate cookie."

"A tuna sandwich, and, hmm.... another lemonade. Wait, no, ice coffee is fine. Instead of tuna, could you make it ham and cheese? Does it have eggs? Because I—oh, wait, how about you only put cheese into it, but twice, since it'll have no ham? Also, never mind. I think I'll just have lemonade."

"Okay," I said. I hadn't brought anything to note things down because I'd forgotten to do so. They all stared at me. "Two lemonades, one ice coffee, one latte, one cheese and... cheese sandwich, a chocolate cookie and, um, the usual. Is that right?"

The girl possessed by makeup gave me a thumbs up. It also felt condescending. As I left, I heard her say, "I don't know about you, but I think he's cute."

"You always like them like that," said the original one. 

Ootsuki Rima had conveniently locked herself at the break room even though her break should've been over already, so it was either arguing with her, or being mean to Natsume Youji again. I'd just have to tell him to deliver the orders and he'd act as though nothing happened as he always did, but it'd annoy me because he was nice nice and those were the worst kinds of people, so I'd slam the door or tell him to go away again or knock myself unconscious. 

I sighed. Deep breaths. I opened the door to the kitchen. "Natsume Youji?"

"Kiryuuin Isao?"

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Why do you say my full name like that sometimes?"

Again, that look. Natsume Youji took a moment to respond. "...it's nothing. What's wrong?"

He kept saying 'what's wrong' instead of 'what do you need' or 'what happened'. I didn't want to see it—him—as condescending, but at this rate, it wouldn't take long. It wouldn't take long for him to start laughing against me, too, once I annoyed him enough. "I. The. Out. The. They asked if you could sgive the stuff to them."

"Stuff? Oh, the orders?"

"Yes."

"Sure thing. Did you write them?" I shook my head, then recited them. He only had to prepare the lemonades and cheese and cheese sandwich, so. "Got it. Is Rima-chan still on her break?"

"Breaking rules, sure," I said.

"I'll tell her to go out, then. Don't worry, You should go back, since there's no one at the counter."

I did. Minutes later, Natsume Youji delivered the bully schoolgirls' order; I couldn't resist; I pretended to go and wipe a table behind them. Nobody else would walk in, probably, so it didn't matter if there was no one at the counter. 

As he left, the girl possessed by makeup said, "...nah. The one with gray hair is cuter."

It was SILVER, not gray. It should've been blue. 

"Ugh, no." That was the original one. She might as well have stabbed me. "Nothing against him, but, you know... he's so jittery and twitchy and stuff."

"He looks like he's our age. Have you ever talked to him? Do you think he has a girlfriend?"

No one asked for my ID when I bought beer at the convenience store.

They hadn't even noticed me. That's how much of a stage presence I had. "Probably not," replied the original one. She said something else but I didn't want to hear, so I didn't, and it didn't help that they laughed. As I went back to the counter, Ootsuki Rima emerged from the break room. She crawled as though she had reverted to her origins. Once we'd both reached where we should be, she instructed for me to devolve, so I did. "Help," she whispered. I nodded. "Those girls are from my school." She probably said this because she thought I was too stupid to notice. "They suck. If they find out I work here, they'll never leave me alone."

"But doesn't the original one know already? She's friends with them, right?"

"The... oh, Akari-chan. She's fine. She warned me about them before they came."

"So she doesn't suck?" I asked.

"No. Anyway, just... take care of them while I'm here. Please. I'll literally never bring up your acts of sodomy with Natsume-san again if you help me."

Something about that felt insulting, but I wasn't sure which part. She covered my shifts when I asked her to. How could I say no? 

"Oh, I know!" That was her again. "I'll tell Natsume-san to switch places with me. I've been in the kitchen before, so."

"Okay. Wait, NO—"

But it was too late.