blackbox | kirishima eijirou

05 | sailors & storms

"How the hell are you not going broke coming here anyway?" Sakura tilted her head to the side a little as she asked the same customer who'd became a part of her everyday life.

The redhead only chuckled. "I saved a lot and I like coming here so.." He shrugged, handing her his money.

"Says every customer ever," she deadpans. "But I guess you're an exception."

"So I'm special then?" He grinned.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "No. But kinda—to me. Well, probably because you're easy to recognize with that—" A memory flashed in her mind, making her smirk. "Shit-hair."

Sakura cackled as she stepped away from the counter, watching his reaction turning from a friendly face into a scowl similar to his friend who tagged along the other day.

"My hair is manly, okay?" He groaned as he glared at her a little, walking to the collection point.

She put up her hands in surrender. "Your friend said it in the first place."

"That's because he gave me that nickname the first time we met in school," he huffed before leaning on the counter in dejected mode.

She started doing the usual on his drink while exchanging words at the same time.

"You know.." He started again as she did her work. "I won't be coming here for a while, probably a few days.."

"Oh?" She glanced at him for a moment. "Why?"

"I have an internship. A big one."

"Congrats then," she sent him a smile as she turned back around to pour the finished product into the cup. "But it's sad for you to go off for a while."

"We've literally known each other for about five days now," Kirishima gave me a poker face but she only shook her head.

"Yeah, but right now—to me—you're like a friend. I mean, it's not that bad to see another familiar face other than my colleagues, right?"

Sakura has her own definition of a friend.

A friend is someone you get to know of the simplest things like their names, school, interests, favourite colour and all the basic stuff.

As for her, a friend is someone she finds out of the ordinary in her eyes—the way they see the world, the way they find another meaning in life, the way they're themselves right in front of her. It doesn't matter to her how long she gets to know that person or how she know the person depends on how long she'd known them because, at the end of the day, the definition of a friend was something she'd always liked to achieve.

Finding out that they have the same taste in music as her were a bonus, that's for sure, but if she can automatically feel the connection and the real stuff between her and them, then they're a friend.

If she can sit in silence with them comfortably with no awkwardness or whatever, then they're a friend. If she can bring out the real smile whenever she's with them then they're a friend. If she can serve them coffee to the point that she knows what type of coffee they wanted before they could even order, then they're a friend.

But for some reason, thinking about all of that made her sound lonely, kind of.

"Yeah," Kirishima smiled sincerely, grabbing his drink the moment she placed it on the counter. "When's your next break?"

She frowned a little. "It was over right before you came in."

"Aw man! I wanted to tell you about the manliest thing I've ever encountered early this morning!" He slurps his drink violently while she blinked at the sight of it.