Crimson Storms // A Hiroto Amamiya Fiction

Chapter Seven: Itokan, 6 AM

• Suki Nakamura •

   At the crack of dawn, my body abruptly jolted awake, a sort of reflex I had from years of working since I was just thirteen. I blinked my eyes open, only to find Hiroto already seated on the couch, slipping on his trusty black combat boots.

The realization hit me—I had completely forgotten that he spent the night here. I considered saying something but decided against it, opting to keep my thoughts to myself.

"You have a peculiar way of waking up," he remarked, observing my sudden rise from slumber. "No warning, just straight up."

I brushed off his comment and set about making my bed. Today was a crucial day—I wanted to make a stellar impression on Naomi at the diner. Her generous offer of a job last night still lingered in my mind, and I was determined to show her my dedication.

With each precise movement, I neatly arranged the sheets and fluffed the pillows, striving for perfection. Getting to the diner early seemed like the right way to start this new opportunity on the right foot.

"I'll go get my motorcycle now," he declared as I warmed up the leftovers from last night. "Pick up some groceries and take care of the place."

"You sound like a husband," I commented, a hint of teasing in my voice, though my expression remained serious. We weren't quite at that stage in our relationship where I could freely laugh with him yet.

He glanced at me with a blank expression before making his way to the door. Without saying another word, he left the room, leaving me behind.

With Hiroto gone, I finished my quick breakfast and prepared myself for my first day of work at Itokan. 

As I made my way there, the early morning air was crisp, and the streets were still relatively quiet. I walked with a sense of anticipation, eager to make a good impression on Naomi.

  "Good morning," I greeted cautiously to the empty space, realizing Naomi wasn't around. Glancing at the clock, I saw it was already 6 AM. The chairs were still stacked on top of the tables, and the counter remained closed. Something felt off—why was the diner open?

My eyes were drawn to a figure slouched over one of the corner tables, which I hadn't noticed when I arrived. The unmistakable bleached hair gave it away—it was Cobra.

Approaching slowly, I didn't want to startle him. As I neared, I could see his disheveled appearance and hear his gentle snores. Cobra had fallen asleep right there at the table, surrounded by empty beer bottles scattered across his space.

I debated waking Cobra up but decided against it. After all, it wasn't my place to interfere. Instead, I quietly made my way to the counter, where I found a note from Naomi instructing me on the day's tasks.

I went about my tasks, cleaning the counters and tables with a focused determination. The note mentioned waking up Cobra if he was still asleep, but I decided to leave that for later.

Opening the windows to let in the morning light, I proceeded to mop the floors and wipe down the tables. I hoped that the commotion would wake Cobra up from his slumber. But he remained in a deep sleep, undisturbed by the activity.

I then noticed a stack of dishes left to dry. Assuming Naomi had washed them the previous night, I quickly wiped them clean and returned them to the cupboards beneath the counter.

"Naomi?" I stood up to find a groggy Cobra leaning against the counter, "What are you doing here so early in the morning?"

"Working," I responded, continuing my tasks without missing a beat.

Cobra ruffled his tousled hair, his gaze fixed on me as he gathered his empty bottles and returned them to the beer cases in the kitchen.

"Naomi doesn't come in until eight in the morning," Cobra mentioned, his tone laced with curiosity.

"No problem, I'm used to working this early," I replied, feeling his eyes on me as I made my way to the table he had occupied, wiping it down.

The sound of a stool scraping against the counter broke the silence, filling the quiet space with an echoing noise. Cobra took a seat, cigarette dangling between his lips as he lit it up. I approached the counter, returning the cloth to its place.

"Do you smoke, Suki?" His gaze followed my hand, then met my eyes.

"Sometimes," I replied, recalling the moments of respite I used to find in smoking during my relentless part-time jobs. It provided a temporary escape, a brief intermission from the demands of reality.

He extended his hand, offering me a cigarette, but I politely declined. "Not while I'm working," I added, a sense of responsibility overriding my personal habits. "I have a question, though."

Cobra looked at me expectantly, awaiting my inquiry.

"Why did you buy me a drink at the club?" I asked, curiosity tinged with a hint of skepticism.

He simply shrugged, his nonchalant demeanor intact. "Yamato caught me staring at you when you walked in, and he insisted I buy you a drink."

"You were staring?" I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, taken aback by his straightforward admission.

His response was equally straightforward. "Yeah, because I have eyes."

I chuckled, finding amusement in his candidness. "Fair enough."

And just like that, the tension between us seemed to ease. The atmosphere became more relaxed, a subtle understanding passing between us. We were two strangers, each guarded in our own way, brought together by a random encounter. As the early morning hours unfolded, Cobra remained quiet, observing from his seat while I took the time to familiarize myself with the kitchen drawers.

As Cobra had mentioned, around eight AM, the bell jingled and the door swung open, revealing Naomi's entrance. "Cobra? You're still here?" she exclaimed, surprise evident in her voice.

Cobra simply nodded, his expression unchanged. Naomi made her way into the kitchen, her eyes widening as she noticed my presence. "Oh? How long have you been here, Suki? You're quite early."

"She's been here since six am," Cobra informed her. Naomi's dramatic gasp filled the air, mirroring her surprise.

"Why? I haven't even woken up at that time yet," she exclaimed, clearly taken aback.

"I'm just used to waking up early," I replied, a hint of determination in my voice. It was a habit ingrained in me through years of hard work.

Naomi nodded, acknowledging my dedication. "That's great, and the diner looks extra clean," she remarked, her gaze sweeping across the pristine environment. She placed the grocery bags she had brought on the counter, then turned her attention to me.

"Are you ready for your first day?"