Ink Black Coffee and Syrupy Sweet Words

Chapter Two - A Wrinkle In Time

For most of the next day, Jotaro was dead tired. The fact that his work day was moving at a crawl wasn't helping, either. He only had himself to blame, though. Most of the time he should have spent sleeping was instead invested in staring at shadows slinking across his bedroom ceiling. Even now, he couldn't shake the worrisome thoughts that kept him up. The coffee from yesterday had also given him a headache, and then, it hit him: he had to go to see Kakyoin today. He had forgotten all about the promise he made. Jotaro rubbed his temples and groaned. He couldn't not go, as much to his chagrin, his break had already arrived. He put the 'out to lunch' note in the door, and hesitantly walked across the street. Almost immediately after he entered the small and dimly lit cafe, he spotted Kakyoin, who was sitting at a table near one of the many large windows. The redhead waved at him, his violet eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Look who decided to show up!" he said, standing up. "Let me get you that cup I promised. Don't move."

Jotaro ignored his snarky comment and sat down nervously. The table was uncomfortably small, and its surface was scratched and stained. The longer he stared at it, the more irritated he got. 

'Why am I even here?' he thought to himself. 'I barely know this guy, so why did I even bother coming?'

The whirring of machines and the ever present perfume of coffee was making his headache much worse, and he had half a mind to leave, until Kakyoin had returned with two travel size cups, one in each hand.

"It's my break as well, coincidentally, so I made something for myself. Sorry about the wait." he placed one in front of Jotaro, and proceeded to sit with his own. "Please enjo- Ah, my bad. The whole customer service shtick may as well be a part of me by now, I do it so much."

Jotaro simply nodded in thanks, and noticed that Kakyoin's drink was a little fancier than his own. It had foam that seemed to breathe as if it were alive, and little shavings of what he assumed to be chocolate sprinkled all over. He took a wordless sip of his own coffee, trying to think of something to break the awkward silence between them.

"How long have you been doing this whole... barista thing?" is what he had decided on.

"Oh, this silly thing? Not very long. It's just something to keep me afloat." he replied with a chuckle. "I wouldn't dream of working at a tiny place like this forever. But, if you don't mind me asking, what made you want to own a bookstore? You don't strike me as the bookwormish type."

"...I like the quiet. Not many people buy physical books nowadays, so I don't get many customers. And, I live above the store, so it was only natural that I did something with that extra space."

"I see, I see. Honestly, the noise here tires me out immensely. I'd kill to swap places with you." 

Kakyoin sighed wistfully, and another heavy silence filled the air. For the first time, Jotaro noticed the touch of sadness that blanketed his expressions. He was clearly unhappy with his current situation, but there was still a glimmer of hope that lay under the surface. Before he knew it, Jotaro was subconsciously speaking, unable to stop himself from saying something rash.

"Well... If you ever get too tired... I wouldn't mind a little bit of extra help."

"Is that so?" Kakyoin replied, failing to hide his excitement. "I might just have to take you up on that offer. Though, definitely not now, as my break is almost over. Will I see you again tomorrow?"

"Sure, I guess. But can we meet somewhere else? I'm not as used to this stuff as you are." 

"I'll do you one better; let's meet up at your store next time. I'll bring the coffee, unless you'd prefer something else?"

"Coffee is fine." 

Of course, the longer he let himself speak, the more he came to regret getting into this situation in the first place. Jotaro couldn't think of any reason why he was going through all this trouble for a random barista that just happened to frequent his bookstore. Was it to prove a point? The hikikomori talk from yesterday crept up on him again, and it pushed his headache into migraine territory. He stood, mumbled an awkward thanks, and left, his pace hasty and deliberate. Thankfully, there weren't any annoyed customers waiting for him at his own establishment. He entered, taking care to lock the door behind him, and ducked into one of the aisles in the back. Jotaro sat in front of one of the shelves, his head swimming. No matter how hard he tried, he wasn't able to form a single, coherent thought. Something about that barista had clouded his judgement, and he hated it. He took steady breaths of air, trying to replace the smell of coffee that was still making his mind race. This calmed him down a bit, and the regret from earlier sunk in. He had made another dumb promise, and of course, it was too late to back down now. Jotaro plucked a novel off the shelf behind him, hoping it would give him comfort. It just so happened to be a member of the Time Quintet, a series that he was very fond of. He flipped to a random page, and skimmed through its contents.

'"Come t'e' picciol fallo amaro morso! Dante. What grievous pain a little fault doth give thee!"' is what stuck out to him the most. While it didn't make much sense out of context, it fit perfectly for the situation at hand. Perhaps things weren't as bad as he was making them out to be. After all, Kakyoin wasn't bad company. On the contrary, he was pleasant and respectful, with an odd sense of humor. Surely, he meant nothing by what he had said after their first conversation. Jotaro was blowing things way out of proportion. He quietly laughed to himself, and decided to flip back to the beginning of the book. Re-reading it seemed like the best course of action. He settled in for a long night, and began to read aloud.

'It was a dark and stormy night. In her attic bedroom Margaret Murry, wrapped in an oldpatchwork quilt, sat on the on the foot of her bed and watched the trees tossing in the frenzied lashings of the wind...'

Of course, I own none of the quotes directly taken from A Wrinkle In Time. Madeleine L'Engle is an amazing writer who deserves all the credit she can get.