Meliora - Emanate - 34

[lady_mab]

Rhys Darcy

The urge to cancel our meeting rose up in me constantly over the scant few days since New Year’s Eve. Kaito even gave me an out -- saying we could push it back if I wasn't feeling well.

Professionally, I had no valid excuse.

Emotionally, I still wanted another week at least to figure out how to pretend it never happened.

It's a strange sort of standoff that takes place when we eventually do meet up for coffee. Neither of us wants to be the one to bring up the fact that he broke an unspoken rule. I've rehearsed the standard excuses he could use in my head over those four days. I was drunk, it was in the spirit of the holiday, it was a dare. All ended with I didn't mean it.

And naturally, I would say Everything is fine, don't worry about it, I get it.

But Kaito never apologized, not beyond the half hearted one that he offered to me outside Temple Fusion just after midnight. He doesn't quite look like he intends to either, as he smiles at me from across the table in the crowded coffee shop.

It's an old smile, one that I haven't seen since we first started working together. When he was still a teenager trying to impress everyone. Trying to prove the fact that he shouldn't be taken lightly. I called it his 'nervous puppy dog smile'.

"You're still wearing that old scarf?" Kaito asks as I unwrap it and drape it over the back of the chair. There's already a mug of tea in my spot. "I thought for certain you would have thrown it out by now." His fingers drum restlessly over the ceramic of his mug, whatever was inside of it half-consumed.

He gave it to me years ago, after we had been working together for over a year. Each January, after another Christmas has passed, he will grin with self assurance and ask that question. So far, I've managed to come up with a different excuse as to why I've kept it. It still functions as a perfectly decent scarf. It was already out of fashion by the time you bought it for me.

This time, I don't say anything as I take my seat, and his smile immediately drops. "We have a lot of work to go over."

"Yeah."

"You cost yourself quite a bit of business over the holidays."

He snorts and leans back in his chair, the usual sort of lazy posture that people expect from him. His dark eyes track my movements as I pull out my tablet and his folio. I'm familiar enough with the weight of his gaze that I can push it aside and not put anything else behind it. "I'm still way ahead of schedule in paying back the loan."

For the first time since I arrived, I look up to match his gaze head on. I arch an eyebrow in an unasked question, and his face breaks out into that nervous puppy dog smile.

"I read the files you sent me. Don't look so surprised."

I can't help but roll my eyes, and his responding laughter seems to melt the tension that has been lingering in my shoulders. "You say that, but then you do stupid things like give away two hundred free drinks in a day and I really have to wonder if you get how this all works."

"I guess I don't, but that's what you're here for." Kaito sits forward and reaches for the folio sheet beneath my arm. "If it makes you feel any better, it was for a good cause."

"No, it makes me get an ulcer." I pull up his file on the tablet and start flipping through the numbers. "Let's calculate it that if your average weekend brings you in at about five to eight thousand pounds--"

Kaito groans and slips down in his chair, gazing blindly up at the ceiling. "Don't do this to meeeee--"

"And this is all pure revenue, after taking into consideration the cost of payroll, utilities, and rent." I am not even looking at his file in particular, just flipping through the first few pages to make it look like I'm pulling up totals. "That's a net loss of about almost a thousand pounds a night, wouldn't you say?"

"Okay but--"

"Don't you try the 'repeat customers' bullshit."

"You know it works. I'm that charming. They all want to come back for a little more of the Temple." He's still staring up at the ceiling, so I only get to imagine what sort of expression he's making to go along with that tone. "Besides, I'm still ahead."

I sigh and lean forward to rest my chin in the palm of my hand. "You are."

"So a few nights is fine. Besides, people still did end up spending money."

"Yes, but that free night really did set you back by three thousand pounds." I watch Kaito pull himself upright and run a hand through his hair. "I know that you're trying to prove a point--" I ignore his snort of disbelief and push right on. "I don't know to who, because everyone is rooting for you... Me most of all. But don't let that confidence distract you."

My fingers tap on the edge of the table before I sit forward and flip open the folio. "We're going to go over the numbers from last month in comparison to November and then we're going to set goals for January."

"Alright." He leans in as well, mimicking my pose with his hand on his chin. He's not looking at me, so I wonder how instinctual it is to be leaning in so close to me when we are sitting on opposite sides of a large table.

I watch him for any sort of sign of the earlier awkwardness, for the tension that we had brought in to the meeting. "I'm going to make it less than last month. This way we can anticipate for any sort of 'fun group events' you want to plan."

Kaito glances up from beneath his eyelashes as I apply emphasis to my sarcasm with air quotes. "They are making me one of the most popular men in the game."

"I'll try not to get too jealous," I say dryly.

He watches me for a moment too long -- long enough for me to see the confusion etch its way across his brow and for his shoulders to straighten a degree. "Rhys--"

"Not now," I interrupt, and am the first one to put the distance back between us. Just like I always am. "Numbers first, whatever you were going to say second."

The frown pulls at Kaito's lips because he knows me well enough by now that whatever he was going to say will never be brought up. I'll avoid the topic, and he'll let me, because that's how we've always done it. I have to be cornered before I'll face whatever is bothering me.

I lay out the receipts from the last two months before him, pointing out the highlighted sections of the orders amounts and totals. We work quickly, if not a bit awkwardly, as I draft up a financial goal for January first. When we turn to look at the year 206 as a whole, his fingers resume their restless drumming on the edge of the table.

"Is there something wrong?" I push my glasses up my nose, trying not to let the irritation show. I can't tell if he's being difficult because I refuse to talk to him about what happened, or because of his finances. "I am not saying that you won't be capable of surpassing these--"

His hand moves before I can mentally process what is happening, and before I can pull away, it lands on the space right beside me. Kaito's pout deepens as his finger jumps to another section of the table mere centimeters away. "Sorry. Ants. They were bothering me and I thought they were going to climb up your elbow."

I stare at him, stunned into a degree of silence that I’m not too sure how to break. "What...?"

When his hand pulls away, I turn to find a single ant running in confused loops around the corner of the table before it's flicked off by Kaito's nail. "I was only half listening to what you were saying because of these bastards."

"Kaito."

"Sorry, go back to how you were talking about pricing for next week's order."

"I wasn't--" My voice trickles off as his smile grows. "Oh. I see how it is."

He taps the edge of my mug with the finger that he killed the ant with. "I'm going to get another drink. You want one?"

"Well now that you've contaminated my glass, yes."

With a characteristic flourish that's normally reserved for Temple Fusion, Kaito whisks away my mug and jumps to his feet. "I'll be right back."

I'm left at the table on my own, staring at his jacket draped over the back of his chair, and our papers and tablets spread across the surface. I lift my head to follow his trail across the cafe, watching his casual smiles as he wends his way through the rainy Wednesday afternoon crowds.

Despite knowing him for five years, I'm constantly amazed at how far he can get on charm and flattery alone. Even when it works on me, it still surprises me. I'm the complete opposite, despite having customer service experience under my belt. It's not as satisfying for me as it is for him, and I enjoy watching his confidence.

So when he's sitting across from me, nervous, that unerring stride faltering, it makes me incredibly confused. What out there can shake him enough?

It's not ALICE. He's ridiculously steadfast when it comes to this insane game. He's what keeps me going. He's the reason I don't have a breakdown in the middle of a restaurant when I overreact.

It's not the state of his bar. It's doing well, despite my constant nay saying. He knows that I have to be the pragmatic one and look at the glass half empty so that he strives to prove me wrong.

Across the room, waiting for his latte, Kaito turns and catches my glance. He smiles and mouths something I can't make out, but it takes all of my willpower not to double over and try to escape his attention beneath the table.

I don't know when exactly it was that I noticed that I liked Kaito. He's the kind of person that will make everyone think that they are in love with him, and he treats them all with the utmost kindness and friendship and flirtatious smiles. I've seen him go through several girlfriends during our friendship together, and not a single one of them leaves with a mean thing to say about him after they've broken up.

Only within the last two or so years did it occur to me that it might be something beyond me seeing him as a close friend -- a best friend, if I thought I could be selfish enough. The amount of butterflies that went through my stomach the day he called me that for the first time was ridiculous, and I hated how naive I was.

Months and months, I've put up with the fact that it was nothing more than a crush. I told myself that I would get over it, but being by his side, being his confidant when things didn't go the way he thought they would, it just dragged me deeper in.

So New Years Eve was a shit show I might have distantly hoped for but never wanted.

When I notice Kaito start to make his way back toward the table, drinks in hand, I force myself to my feet and step away towards the napkins to try and prolong the inevitable. We're going to have to talk about what happened, because it won't get out of my mind.

He's sitting and waiting for me as I return with a stack of napkins to clean up the trail of ant corpses he left behind. Kaito speaks up before I can get the chance to even prepare myself. "Rhys, we have to talk."

It's unfair that he can get the words out before I can. It's more my problem than his. For him, it's just a matter of picking the right excuse. For me, it's having to deal with the fact that I have feelings that I can't push aside and are run over with a jagged piece of glass each time he smiles at me.

And suddenly, I really don't want to confront it just yet. I don't know if this is just me running away like usual, or if it's because I honestly don't know if I'll accept his apology.

"About?" I manage, satisfied that at least I sound my usual level of perturbed. "We haven't finished laying out a plan for 206 yet."

His hand is stretched out across the table, fingers loosely curled from where they had been cupped around my mug. Before, he would have reached for my hand. I almost will him to, before stamping down the flight of fancy. Plenty of time to ridicule myself for that later.

"I--" he starts, voice pinched awkwardly over the single sound. "I don't want to think about the rest of this year yet."

"You're going to have to--"

He stands up so we're on the same level. So that now he towers the inch and a half over me, fingers coming to a stop on the same napkin that I'm starting to pick into nervous shreds. "You're going to be leaving."

He says it so matter of factly that all I can do is shrug. "Yes. If all goes well."

Kaito seems to war with himself, and I realize that I'm holding my breath, waiting for his response. "You're not going to be around to see the second club open."

My brow furrows, and I lift my hand away from the napkin to fidget with my glasses. He's not standing close. We still have the distance of the table between us, except for where his fingers lingered on the recycled paper napkin. "I suppose not."

The silence grows. This isn't exactly the conversation I envisioned us having.

Finally, he takes a breath, shoulders heaving, and I think this is it.

Instead, all he does is shake his head and move to return to his seat. "I don't really want to think that far."

If it's a confession of some sort, I don't know what for. He doesn't look up at me. He just taps the tablet. "Let's figure out first quarter for now."

"Okay," I say, the response coming automatically.

"Sit."

I do.

His hands retreat to his side of the table to wrap around his mug. His fingers resume their tapping, and I wonder if there is some sort of code in the rhythm. "What are the chances that I can write this off as a business expense?" he asks, breaking the silence with his boisterous voice and the bartender smile returning at full force.

I don't answer, because he doesn't need me to. He already knows the answer.

But it lets me know that, just like me, he has to be cornered before he'll divulge what is truly bothering him. It's enough of a start that I can push aside my own reservations and focus on the task at hand.

Business first. And then when that finally runs out, we'll keep going until we're left with nowhere else to escape to.