Freedom of Self

Chapter 9

"What are you smiling about so early in the morning, Wakahisa? You're creeping me out." Negishi, one of the kitchen staff, grumbled. Arata hadn't realized he was wearing a pleased expression on his face and shrugged.

He had woken up energized and in an exceptionally good mood and decided to not let it go to waste by concealing it. Early in the morning, he had aired out his room, brewed tea while he got dressed and lazed around for a bit on the balcony, inhaling the crisp morning air deep into his lungs. The young man's bangs swayed in the cool breeze as he sipped the hot beverage cupped between his fingers. He sighed contented as the tea slid down his throat and pooled in his stomach and felt a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Amused at his silliness to smile over nothing, Arata scoffed and shook his head before leaving for work.

The young man had no trouble getting permission to leave early as he had often stayed behind after closing to clean and had earned Fujita-san's goodwill. The manager had frankly been intrigued by his sudden request and she tried not to let curiosity get the best of her. She did not wish to intrude on Arata's personal life however, the boy, in his honest and dutiful way, had grown dear to her over the past months. Ever since she had interviewed him for the job, the young man captivated Fujita-san's attention with his calm and respectful demeanor. Arata seemed earnest and her experienced eye assured her she would gain a diligent employee, granted the fact that he lacked the hospitality of his fellow waiters.

The manager took one last look at the hustle and bustle in the restaurant and retreated to her office, pleased to see her predictions had come true.

# # #

At around quarter to five, Arata spared a quick trip to the staff room to fetch his phone, not wanting to miss Matsushita-san's call. He went on tending to the customers already at his tables until a few more of his colleagues arrived for the evening shift, then moved to the kitchen to help with clean-up.

He was almost elbows deep in a pile of bowls and plates when he heard the familiar ringtone buzzing from his front pocket. Matsushita-san told him he was leaving his office so Arata headed for the lockers to get changed, knowing it would not take long for the man to reach the restaurant. Trying his best to make himself look more presentable, the young man adjusted the collar of the pale blue shirt he had purposely chosen that morning and combed his already neatly arranged hair.

Arata took a deep breath as he headed out the door, feeling inexplicably nervous at the prospect of a celebratory dinner with Matsushita-san, whom he believed he'd forever be indebted to. The man was unlike anyone Arata knew, his charm not in the least forced. The young man had pondered what flaws stayed hidden beneath that hospitable exterior, yet none came to mind from the minimal interactions they had had. With the exception of the man's goofiness and awful sense of direction, of course. However, Arata reckoned both made him all the more endearing.

Matsushita-san had prided himself with his keen observational skills when they had last met and Arata was determined to return the favor that evening. If not for mere curiosity, then at least as a reference for himself and his own behavior. It was the most peculiar thing... although he found the man's presence to be soothing, the young man often felt inadequate by comparison. He wasn't anywhere near as charismatic nor as cordial as Matsushita-san and he lacked the mature, refined exuberance that distinguished him.

His studies were all that concerned him and all he was confident in; before he had met the other man, Arata had believed that to be enough for him. There had been no need to want more.

Maybe it's time to open my eyes. Arata thought, leaning against an illuminating pole as he waited.

Matsushita-san did not take much longer to arrive, keeping the engine of his navy-blue Toyota running as he lowered his window to shoot Arata a lopsided grin and invite him in.