![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
The World Ends With You, "Wake Up" (Rhyme+Mr. H)
Rhyme goes to the WildKat to find a little peace of mind, even though she's been told that it's abandoned. But she could use advice and she hopes against hope that Shibuya's most mysterious barista can give it to her.
Contains tragic entry fees, subtle clues, and the potential implication that none of this is really happening. Written for the![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fic_promptly prompt "Any, pumpkin soup and sympathy"
.wake up.
The WildKat's storefront was dark, and the door was unlocked. The bell rang brightly when Rhyme entered, but no voice rose to welcome her.
For a moment the concern that she would be trespassing almost turned her around, but the door had been unlocked... and Mr. Hanekoma was a friend, of a sorts. She stepped inside and let the door ease shut behind her.
The instant it clicked shut she felt strangely that she had entered someplace else, someplace foreign; everything seemed quieter inside, like the world beyond the door was filtered through many layers of dense insulation. The air was still and undisturbed, as if no one had been here in months or years, though she saw no dust layering the surfaces of booths and tables and countertops. She watched particles drift lazily through the air in a way that took her back to a few summers ago when she had found an old abandoned shack in the woods while on vacation.
Neku had been right. Mr. H was gone.
Rhyme crossed the room slowly to the countertop and seated herself on the stool there where she had imagined herself sitting when she decided to come here. After a long, silent moment that stretched out into eternity, she leaned forward and folded her arms and slumped over to rest her head against them.
She heard the feathery rustle of fabric the instant before she felt his presence. She lifted her head again to see Mr. Hanekoma leaning against the counter across from her, bearing his weight on his elbows and arms folded on the counter like hers.
"You look a little down, Smiles," he said casually.
"Mr. H!" She straightened up, relief settling over her. "I thought you'd left. Neku said that you weren't here anymore."
The older man looked around the cafe with his eyebrows raised and said, "I think I'm here. What about you?"
Rhyme giggled a little, starting to ease up. "I'm glad. Everyone would be upset if you disappeared on us."
Mr. Hanekoma simply smiled. "A guy's gotta be pretty lucky to have customers like you all."
"After everything you've done for us, of course we're your most loyal customers."
She owed more to him than she could ever repay, she knew. He'd saved her and he'd saved Beat, and Neku swore that without his intervention they never would have won the Game for Shibuya. Really, she should be the one doing favors for him, instead of looking for things that he could do for her...
"Well, I'd be runnin' a pretty poor cafe if I couldn't take care of my most loyal customers!" Mr. Hanekoma stepped away from the counter, turning to the stove behind him. It was on and there was a lidded pot over the burner -- she hadn't noticed it before, and felt silly for her earlier thoughts, obviously unobservant figments of an overactive imagination. "You don't look like a coffee kind of gal... How 'bout some pumpkin soup?"
Rhyme hesitated, because she hadn't really intended to eat anything, but it seemed a little silly to come to a cafe and not eat. She smiled at him instead. "Okay. Shiki told me your pumpkin soup is great."
"That'll be 580 yen."
She reached for her wallet and counted out the coins. The warm scent of pumpkin and spices escaped when he lifted the lid to serve a bowl, and it smelled like comfort. When he brought it over to her, she was eager to try it, and she was not disappointed.
"This is great." She had another spoonful quickly, confirming that it tasted just as good as the first. "I could eat this all day! Is there anything you aren't good at?"
First-rate barista and chef, genius tinkerer and programmer, acclaimed street artist, and some sort of wizard who can put Soul into pins, she thought. It was a very impressive resume.
He grinned. "That's not a fair question to ask a man! It'd be mighty sad if I ruined my own reputation by sharing something like that. I can't play the harp?"
Rhyme almost choked on her soup giggling. She lifted a hand to cover her mouth and turned away a little politely.
Mr. Hanekoma waited for her to compose herself before asking, "You wanna talk about it?"
Her eyes flickered up to his face and saw only sympathy there, drawing his kind eyes down. She stirred her soup idly with the spoon. "Neku told me you give really good advice," she said.
He rubbed the back of his neck as if embarrassed. "That's awful nice of him to say."
He'd had much nicer things to say, but that wasn't why she was here. Rhyme had a little more of the soup before saying, "My parents want me to go to cram school so I can get on the advanced science track."
"Ah."
That one syllable conveyed a world of understanding. Her fingers tightened on the spoon. He couldn't possibly understand from just that, so she forged on, reluctantly. "I wanted to be a doctor for a while. My parents were really happy about it -- maybe happier than I was. I honestly don't remember caring that much. But it meant a lot to them and they're still fixated on that idea. Going to cram school seems..."
She trailed off. She didn't know how to say it when she didn't know why she felt that way herself. It seemed too hard? It seemed troublesome? It seemed like a poor use of her time? Those were awful reasons to want to give up on a dream that was noble and selfless.
Mr. Hanekoma pressed gently, "You don't know how to tell them you don't want to go?"
Rhyme shook her head. "They'll be so disappointed. And I don't want to disappoint them. They're always getting on Beat's case and I'd hate for them to think they did something wrong... or that it's his fault somehow." She could easily imagine the shouting that would ensue from an accusation that he was a bad influence on her, and she bit her lip.
"Telling them you think you want to do something else with your life isn't good enough?" he asked in a reasonable tone.
"But I don't... want to do anything else, either," she murmured. "Maybe there's something wrong with me." Why else would she have lost all interest in becoming a doctor and helping people?
They both paused there, and Rhyme felt her words build uncomfortably between them. She had some of the soup, not looking at him.
He finally said, "You know, there's an old proverb..." Rhyme's eyes widened, and Mr. Hanekoma grinned again. "'I dreamed a thousand new paths... I woke and walked my old one.'"
Rhyme loved proverbs and was happy to be distracted by one. She turned it over in her mind, thinking it through. "People can end up stuck in a rut, doing the same things over and over and never getting anywhere," she mused. "Even if they want big things for themselves, they end up doing what comes easiest."
"That's why I think you're lucky, Smiles." Mr. Hanekoma tucked his hands in his pockets and turned his gaze up to the ceiling. "You went through a major, life-changing event -- and it gave you a new perspective on your life. You are officially out of your rut. So now your path is undetermined. You could go... just about anywhere."
She'd never thought of it in terms of the accident. The breath went out of her, surprised. She had been to death and beyond, more than once. Maybe it was natural that her priorities had changed, and what had once been her goal now felt like it belonged to another life. It did.
Rhyme said slowly, "So there's something else out there, you think? A dream for me?"
"I know there is." Mr. Hanekoma smiled at her. "You'll figure it out soon enough, kiddo. You just have to find out what's most important to who you are now."
She stirred the soup again, thinking of Beat and Neku and Shiki and their dreams. Something that meant a great deal to her, that moved her, that inspired her...
"But not right this moment, sadly! You'd better eat your soup," he added, glancing not at the clock but at the street outside the half-closed blinds. "I've gotta close up soon."
"Okay," she said, returning his smile with one of her own. "Thanks for helping me. And -- for everything."
Mr. Hanekoma tipped an imaginary hat to her. "It was my pleasure," he said, sincerely.
He turned to start cleaning up, mentioning a big movie they'd advertised at 104 the other day, conversational patter to entertain her while she ate. She knew that he needed to go somewhere, but for some reason it was soothing to be in his presence and listening to his voice, and she lost track of the time, savoring every spoonful until the bowl was empty.
Contains tragic entry fees, subtle clues, and the potential implication that none of this is really happening. Written for the
fic_promptly prompt "Any, pumpkin soup and sympathy".wake up.
The WildKat's storefront was dark, and the door was unlocked. The bell rang brightly when Rhyme entered, but no voice rose to welcome her.
For a moment the concern that she would be trespassing almost turned her around, but the door had been unlocked... and Mr. Hanekoma was a friend, of a sorts. She stepped inside and let the door ease shut behind her.
The instant it clicked shut she felt strangely that she had entered someplace else, someplace foreign; everything seemed quieter inside, like the world beyond the door was filtered through many layers of dense insulation. The air was still and undisturbed, as if no one had been here in months or years, though she saw no dust layering the surfaces of booths and tables and countertops. She watched particles drift lazily through the air in a way that took her back to a few summers ago when she had found an old abandoned shack in the woods while on vacation.
Neku had been right. Mr. H was gone.
Rhyme crossed the room slowly to the countertop and seated herself on the stool there where she had imagined herself sitting when she decided to come here. After a long, silent moment that stretched out into eternity, she leaned forward and folded her arms and slumped over to rest her head against them.
She heard the feathery rustle of fabric the instant before she felt his presence. She lifted her head again to see Mr. Hanekoma leaning against the counter across from her, bearing his weight on his elbows and arms folded on the counter like hers.
"You look a little down, Smiles," he said casually.
"Mr. H!" She straightened up, relief settling over her. "I thought you'd left. Neku said that you weren't here anymore."
The older man looked around the cafe with his eyebrows raised and said, "I think I'm here. What about you?"
Rhyme giggled a little, starting to ease up. "I'm glad. Everyone would be upset if you disappeared on us."
Mr. Hanekoma simply smiled. "A guy's gotta be pretty lucky to have customers like you all."
"After everything you've done for us, of course we're your most loyal customers."
She owed more to him than she could ever repay, she knew. He'd saved her and he'd saved Beat, and Neku swore that without his intervention they never would have won the Game for Shibuya. Really, she should be the one doing favors for him, instead of looking for things that he could do for her...
"Well, I'd be runnin' a pretty poor cafe if I couldn't take care of my most loyal customers!" Mr. Hanekoma stepped away from the counter, turning to the stove behind him. It was on and there was a lidded pot over the burner -- she hadn't noticed it before, and felt silly for her earlier thoughts, obviously unobservant figments of an overactive imagination. "You don't look like a coffee kind of gal... How 'bout some pumpkin soup?"
Rhyme hesitated, because she hadn't really intended to eat anything, but it seemed a little silly to come to a cafe and not eat. She smiled at him instead. "Okay. Shiki told me your pumpkin soup is great."
"That'll be 580 yen."
She reached for her wallet and counted out the coins. The warm scent of pumpkin and spices escaped when he lifted the lid to serve a bowl, and it smelled like comfort. When he brought it over to her, she was eager to try it, and she was not disappointed.
"This is great." She had another spoonful quickly, confirming that it tasted just as good as the first. "I could eat this all day! Is there anything you aren't good at?"
First-rate barista and chef, genius tinkerer and programmer, acclaimed street artist, and some sort of wizard who can put Soul into pins, she thought. It was a very impressive resume.
He grinned. "That's not a fair question to ask a man! It'd be mighty sad if I ruined my own reputation by sharing something like that. I can't play the harp?"
Rhyme almost choked on her soup giggling. She lifted a hand to cover her mouth and turned away a little politely.
Mr. Hanekoma waited for her to compose herself before asking, "You wanna talk about it?"
Her eyes flickered up to his face and saw only sympathy there, drawing his kind eyes down. She stirred her soup idly with the spoon. "Neku told me you give really good advice," she said.
He rubbed the back of his neck as if embarrassed. "That's awful nice of him to say."
He'd had much nicer things to say, but that wasn't why she was here. Rhyme had a little more of the soup before saying, "My parents want me to go to cram school so I can get on the advanced science track."
"Ah."
That one syllable conveyed a world of understanding. Her fingers tightened on the spoon. He couldn't possibly understand from just that, so she forged on, reluctantly. "I wanted to be a doctor for a while. My parents were really happy about it -- maybe happier than I was. I honestly don't remember caring that much. But it meant a lot to them and they're still fixated on that idea. Going to cram school seems..."
She trailed off. She didn't know how to say it when she didn't know why she felt that way herself. It seemed too hard? It seemed troublesome? It seemed like a poor use of her time? Those were awful reasons to want to give up on a dream that was noble and selfless.
Mr. Hanekoma pressed gently, "You don't know how to tell them you don't want to go?"
Rhyme shook her head. "They'll be so disappointed. And I don't want to disappoint them. They're always getting on Beat's case and I'd hate for them to think they did something wrong... or that it's his fault somehow." She could easily imagine the shouting that would ensue from an accusation that he was a bad influence on her, and she bit her lip.
"Telling them you think you want to do something else with your life isn't good enough?" he asked in a reasonable tone.
"But I don't... want to do anything else, either," she murmured. "Maybe there's something wrong with me." Why else would she have lost all interest in becoming a doctor and helping people?
They both paused there, and Rhyme felt her words build uncomfortably between them. She had some of the soup, not looking at him.
He finally said, "You know, there's an old proverb..." Rhyme's eyes widened, and Mr. Hanekoma grinned again. "'I dreamed a thousand new paths... I woke and walked my old one.'"
Rhyme loved proverbs and was happy to be distracted by one. She turned it over in her mind, thinking it through. "People can end up stuck in a rut, doing the same things over and over and never getting anywhere," she mused. "Even if they want big things for themselves, they end up doing what comes easiest."
"That's why I think you're lucky, Smiles." Mr. Hanekoma tucked his hands in his pockets and turned his gaze up to the ceiling. "You went through a major, life-changing event -- and it gave you a new perspective on your life. You are officially out of your rut. So now your path is undetermined. You could go... just about anywhere."
She'd never thought of it in terms of the accident. The breath went out of her, surprised. She had been to death and beyond, more than once. Maybe it was natural that her priorities had changed, and what had once been her goal now felt like it belonged to another life. It did.
Rhyme said slowly, "So there's something else out there, you think? A dream for me?"
"I know there is." Mr. Hanekoma smiled at her. "You'll figure it out soon enough, kiddo. You just have to find out what's most important to who you are now."
She stirred the soup again, thinking of Beat and Neku and Shiki and their dreams. Something that meant a great deal to her, that moved her, that inspired her...
"But not right this moment, sadly! You'd better eat your soup," he added, glancing not at the clock but at the street outside the half-closed blinds. "I've gotta close up soon."
"Okay," she said, returning his smile with one of her own. "Thanks for helping me. And -- for everything."
Mr. Hanekoma tipped an imaginary hat to her. "It was my pleasure," he said, sincerely.
He turned to start cleaning up, mentioning a big movie they'd advertised at 104 the other day, conversational patter to entertain her while she ate. She knew that he needed to go somewhere, but for some reason it was soothing to be in his presence and listening to his voice, and she lost track of the time, savoring every spoonful until the bowl was empty.