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The city has a sort of rhythm to it. The hours there are high traffic, the speed people walk, the routine that's built into the position of the sun, everything moves in a kind of discordant synchronicity, chaotic and unpredictable, but following the beat of a well defined drum. Tendou loves it, because he loves to break it. He likes to be awake when everyone else is asleep, he likes to sleep to the sound of rush hour traffic. Eat breakfast for dinner, trade Christmas gifts on the winter solstice, buy clothes out of season, and never, ever, ever, let himself fall into the drum beat of the city. People can read it on his face, in his posture, it's how he's known around the city. That's how his shop is known. Delicious chocolate - absolutely fucking bonkers owner. He just liked to keep people on their toes.
There’s one customer, though, that seems plugged into the rhythm of the city by an industrial strength steel cable. One fucking guy that Tendou cannot say or do anything to shake him, to see that delightfully baffled look. Tendou cannot even tell why he would want chocolate on such a regular basis, but whatever it is must be ritualistically engrained into him, because he’s like goddamn clockwork.
4:08 PM on a Thursday, every goddamn week, the man walks into his shop. Didn’t notice it the first time - obviously not. It’s a normal time to be entering his shop, there were other customers, he waits in line, selects what he wants, and leaves. The second time he didn’t notice. The third time he did. He’s not sure if he was just glancing at the clock to check the baking times of some of his other products, but after a few weeks had passed the pattern was undeniable. Perhaps Tendou realized it just because the man was so odd in his regularity. There was a kind of “normal” that absolutely wasn’t normal, and this man was defining it.
Weird. He’s weird.
He doesn’t chat, either. He’ll be polite, he’ll listen to what Tendou says, but no matter how hard he tries he cannot seem to start a conversation that even sounds normal, and he’s very sure whatever other patrons are in his shop when he tries to hold a conversation leave with a baffling story to tell.
Tendou just wants to break his normality, that strict, almost rigid personality, the uncomfortably flat expression he wore, that never flickered or wavered at all. He, after all, is the bonkers owner of his delicious chocolate shop, and the wrench in the gears of the city of Paris.
“Why are you always here at the exact same time?” Tendou asks, as the man packs up his order - the same exact order it always is.
“Exact same time as what?” the man replies, sparing him a few extra seconds from his routine to finish the conversation.
“As the last ten times you came! You always show up at four-oh-eight pm on a Thursday. Well, to be fair, sometimes it’s four-oh-seven, and sometimes it’s four-oh-nine, but that’s just a margin of error thing. What are you doing in your day that gets you to this chocolate shop on this day of the week at exactly the same time every time.”
The man blinks at him, then says: “My practice ended at three.”
Tendou stares back at him, before leaning into his face, over the counter: “What in the hell does that mean?”
The man doesn’t seem bothered by the sudden invasion of his space, meeting Tendou’s eyes levelly.
“That means that was the time I was finished with my practice.”
This guy is going to be the death of me.
“Uh-huh,” is what Tendou says out loud, taking advantage of his closeness to take a quick scan over his face, trying to understand his features. He doesn’t smile, or laugh, there’s only slight movement to the way his eyes move, as if only moving when he chose to and unburden by stuff like reflex. As a result, Tendou notes, his skin is almost completely line free, he looks remarkably young, but considering his size and relative bulk he couldn’t have been that young. It occurs to Tendou that he’s actually quite handsome, in a very classical, “Prince Charming”-esq way.
And that thought makes him realize what he was obviously missing. The routine of it, chocolates once a week - he was probably doting on a girlfriend who had a standing weekly date night routine. That, he reasons, would explain at least some of this behaviour. She had a favourite chocolate, so that’s what he got for her.
“Have a good night,” Tendou chirps, before pulling back from him and waltzing away to attend to his next customer, and almost missing the replied: “thank you,” though that’s what he always says, so it’s not like it’s important.
The next week he comes in, Tendou decides to be nice. The man orders the same things he always does, and when Tendou puts the small box together, he puts a few extra pieces in, some of the less popular flavours he could afford to let go for free. He slides it over to him, and the man pays, picks up the box, makes it two steps away and then turns around to put the box on the counter, sliding it back over to him.
“...what?” Tendou says.
“This isn’t my order, you’ve made a mistake.”
Today, by chance, there was almost nobody else in the shop, apart from a woman off in the back looking at some of the shelved items that were not chocolate. Tendou makes a show of looking around, as if to explain that there’s literally nobody else who’s order it could be, before looking back to him and saying:
“No, that’s yours, buddy.”
“No, it’s not,” he replies, quite firmly. “It’s too heavy to be mine.”
Tendou raises his eyes.
“Oh, fascinating,” he says, crossing his arms. “Well, don’t worry about the weight of it, I maybe snuck in a couple of extra pieces as a reward for being such a weirdly consistent and loyal customer.”
This earns him a very long, blank stare back, before eventually he says: “I didn’t order anything extra, though.”
“...I know,” Tendou says. “I’m just being nice. It’s a thing some people do.”
“I ordered what I wanted, why would you think I wanted extra? If I wanted more I would have asked you for more.”
“... Okay, so… usually,” Tendou says, taking the box and sliding it back over to himself. “More is better, for a lot of people. Most people practice self restraint and always secretly want more. I have never in my life offended someone by giving them free stuff.”
“I’m not offended,” he replies, and Tendou is left to sit there and wallow in confusion, because this man was doing absolutely nothing to help him figure out what he was if not offended now, face having not moved a twitch from its flat expression.
“Okay,” Tendou says. “Dude, I didn’t mean to… make you experience whatever it is you’re currently experiencing, just… thought you or your girlfriend might enjoy a little extra this week.”
Another long, blank stare, and then: “Who do you think I am?”
This makes Tendou take a step back, confused by the inquiry that sounded like an accusation.
“Excuse me? What do you mean?”
“You are trying to give me stuff I don’t want and assert that I have a girlfriend, which means you probably think I am someone I am not. Who is it you think I am?”
Tendou cracks a smile. “You’re so weird,” he says, before leaning on his elbows, looking up at him. “I don’t know who you are. And I can’t figure you out, either, and it’s highly unusual for me to guess wrong, so… go on, who are you?”
Another blink, another stare - the man offers his hand forward, which Tendou shifts to sit up so that he can take and accept the firm handshake. The man’s hand is warm, and his grip is strong, and Tendou finds his fingers trailing across calluses on the insides of his fingers as they pull apart.
“Ushijima Wakatoshi,” he says.
“Tendou Satori,” he replies back, but almost before he could finish, Ushijima interrupts with:
“Yes, I know your name.”
And Tendou laughs again. “Well it’s a pleasure to properly meet you. I… greatly apologize, for keeping you so long, I know you like your routine.”
“I am not bothered,” Ushijima replies.
Tendou pushes the box of chocolates back towards him. “Please, take the extra weight. It’s just a gift, share it with someone you fancy, if you don’t want them yourself.”
Ushijima seems to relent to that, reaching to take the box. Tendou smiles, as he tucks it under his arm.
“Have a good night,” he adds.
“Thank you,” Ushijima replies, before breaking the routine and adding: “You too.”
Tendou smiles a little bit more, watching him turn and head for the glass doors, back out onto the street. He stops again, though, standing just at the entrance moving to open the little box as if to check exactly what Tendou had done to it.
His attention is taken, though, by that other woman approaching the cash register, so he hurries over to help her, trying to be all smiles and jokes. She reacts like a normal person. When he suggests breaking the ceramic mug she was buying into little pieces to reuse as a mosaic, she looks at him like he was a lunatic and tries to force a polite laugh. Good. As it should be.
He gives her her change, and then wanders off to grab a cloth and clean up-
“Uh, Mr. Tendou?” the woman calls, and he’s briefly worried this is about to be something annoying, but he turns around with a smile on his face.
“Yes? How can I help you?”
“Just… there’s… some chocolates on the counter here, not sure if someone forgot them, or…?”
He blinks, surprised, before heading over to where she was nodding to the counter, two little chocolate pieces sitting on the glass.
The two extra pieces he had put into Ushijima’s box.
The fucker took them out.
Just cannot accept a gift, can he?
“Oh, no worries, thanks for letting me know,” Tendou chirps for her, before grabbing them off the counter and hurrying off. He definitely can’t resell them, so-
Putting one in his mouth, he goes about his evening duties grumbling to himself about one Ushijima Wakatoshi and his bizarrely consistent and unshakable behaviour.
The next week, at the same time (margin of error of about 46 seconds past 4:08, not that Tendou was counting or anything), Ushijima returns. Tendou wants to give him the cold shoulder. If he wouldn’t accept his gifts, why should he try anyway? The asshole clearly was content to be distant.
It’s only marginally busier than last week, so all too soon Ushijima has stepped up to place his usual order. Nothing ever changes on that front.
One dark chocolate and sea salt, one salted caramel, and one dark chocolate and almond. He puts them together into the little box, neatly lined up, folds it shut, sets it on the counter, and rings it through. He almost makes it through the entire conversation without saying anything unnecessary, but Tendou didn’t like holding his tongue, so when he reaches to give Ushijima his change, the exact same change he always gets, he gives another go at cracking this man.
“You’re left handed,” he says, though it is not the first time he’s noticed it. He just wants to bother him. “Why would you do that?”
Something weird and off kilter, something to throw at him and let Tendou win this weird song and dance.
“You sound like my mother,” he replies, in a tone that was bizarrely chipper, which makes Tendou realize, suddenly, that this is the first fraction of an emotional response he’d ever gotten out of the man.
“Eh?”
“Do not worry,” Ushijima replies immediately. “You do not actually sound like her. Your voice is very different.”
“Ah… well, good, I…” Tendou’s brain sort of starts misfiring. “Wait, you… that was a joke. I’ve never heard you say anything except for the literal truth, you just made a joke,” Tendou goes on, voice rising in excitement.
“Yes,” Ushijima agrees, nodding, and despite his face remaining completely neutral, Tendou would have sworn up and down that he looked goddamn pleased with himself.
Tendou finds himself smiling. It’s stupid, it’s barely a joke and it’s barely a victory, to get this fractional emotional expression from him, but it is endearingly cute, and Ushijima seems quite happy with it, and if Tendou was being honest, it had been a really, really long time since anyone had taken what he said so easily. In all their interactions, actually, Tendou has been chasing a negative reaction from him, that confused bafflement, maybe just looking with confirmation bias.
I am the bonkers owner of the delicious chocolate shop.
You are not supposed to accept me so readily.
And then:
“Last week, you had advised sharing chocolate with someone I fancy. Do you consider chocolate the best gift?”
Tendou raised his eyes. “Wait, what are we talking about now?”
“What would you want to receive? As a gift to show affection.”
Ah…?
“Are you planning on confessing to someone?” Tendou asks, crossing his arms.
“Yes. But I have not do so before, so I don’t know if chocolates are the best way to go.”
“Chocolates are usually the best way to go,” Tendou says. “Well, assuming the person likes chocolates. Do they like chocolates?”
Ushijima lifts his eyes, looking around the chocolate shop for a second before settling back on Tendou.
“Yes.”
“Well, then stick with chocolates. I have a ton of fancy little heart-boxes or cute ribbons I can wrap it up real nice for you. Whatever you want.”
He nods. “Okay.”
“Did you want to buy something?”
“No. Thank you,” he adds, lifting up the chocolates he had bought, before turning to head for the door.
Wait-
Fucking weirdo.
“Have a good day!” Tendou called, somewhat annoyed by that interaction.
Whatever.
The rest of the week passes with unremarkable regularity, despite Tendou’s best attempts to mix things up. He tries not to let himself fall into any patterns, but try as he might the monotony of the day-to-day tasks of a business owner catch up with him.
He starts thinking about the next weekend he’ll have off, and the most interesting thing he could possibly do. Anything to stop himself from turning into someone stuck in the rut of their own habits. Maybe he’ll pick a train ticket and go somewhere new. He can just pick blindly, or show up to the station and get the next available ticket out of there. Maybe he won’t even stay in France.
Yes, he thinks, that’ll do nicely.
It’s 4:12 on a Thursday.
He looks around the shop, assuming he had missed the chime of the door as Ushijima came in.
He’s not there.
For whatever reason, that sets Tendou on edge. And then he’s very annoyed at that, because that means that big bastard had successfully conditioned him into a routine, and now he was the one thrown off by the break to the structure.
No! No way, he simply wouldn’t be that person. Good riddance, he decides. It’s damn time the guy tried something new on a Thursday afternoon. It’s a good thing. It is. Tendou likes unpredictability, and he would certainly never ever like anyone that rigid in their structure that they do the same exact thing every-
The door chimes as it opens, and he glances up, feeling an immense wave of pleasure as he sees Ushijima slip through the glass door.
Oh, thank god.
Okay, good. Things make sense again.
Tendou glances at the clock. 4:16.
“You’re eight minutes late,” Tendou says. “Give or take.”
“Late for what?” Ushijima replies, sounding genuinely concerned.
“Ah… you… you’re usually eight minutes earlier,” Tendou says. “I was starting to think you’d found a better chocolate shop to satisfy your weekly cravings.”
“Weekly cravings for what?”
“...chocolate,” Tendou says.
“Oh, I don’t crave chocolate,” is his response, as he wanders over to the glass cabinet, where he usually made his selection.
“You get some every week.”
“Yes.”
Tendou stares at him for a moment, biting at the inside of his cheek to stop himself from saying anything rude or impulsive. Ushijima is just looking at him, all pleasant and passive. Tendou waits a second longer, before slowly starting to smile.
“You are one fucking weird person,” Tendou says eventually, and finally, finally, he gets a response, a confirmed, definite one, though it is simply Ushijima arching an eye up, as if surprised by this particular sentiment. As if he didn’t realize how fucking weird he was all the time. “Alright, let me guess, you want the usual?”
“Usual?” Ushijima echoes.
“The same that you always get, you want the same?”
“What do I usually get?”
“Uh, the sea salt, the almond, and the salted caramel, all in dark chocolate,” Tendou chirps back. “You always get exactly the same. You have to know that you always get exactly the same. I will not accept you trying to pretend otherwise.”
“I… just didn’t think about it,” he replies. “I usually just get what I like.”
“You only like three things?”
“I like three things the best,” Ushijima replies. “It seemed unnecessary to get things I like less simply for the sake of it.”
“But… how do you only like three things? Even if there is something that you wouldn’t consider your favourite, don’t you want to enjoy it on occasion? Or don’t you get bored of the routine of it? You never want to just… close your eyes and pick at random? Just to say you’ve tried something new?”
Ushijima shakes his head slightly. “I prefer to just enjoy what I enjoy. I do not find… tedium in the things I like the most.”
Tendou just shakes his head, and steps away to start packing the boxes.
“You did not take my order,” Ushijima calls.
“I don’t need to, my friend,” Tendou replies. “You are predictable.”
“You do not know what I want,” Ushijima replies.
“I very much do.”
He puts the box together quickly, and then sets it on the counter, pushing it towards him. “Was it going to look something like that?”
Ushijima sets the box to the side. “What chocolates do you like the most?”
Tendou opens his mouth, then shuts it again, then struggles to find a clever answer and eventually just decides to go with honesty, and says:
“I don’t have a favourite. I don’t really do favourites, just whatever is interesting, or fun in the moment.”
“Well, what would you recommend as of right now?”
He thinks about this for a moment, before stepping back to scan his selection, and eventually wandering over to tap on the glass a little ways down. “Chocolate and orange. I think I prefer it in the milk chocolate, but that’s only because we use the orange zest, and it’s bitter compared to the sweet orange flavour people might be expecting. It's new for the Christmas season coming up.”
“Nine of those, then.”
Tendou freezes, hating himself briefly for being caught off guard by the change to the routine. He recovers quickly and hurries to start packing the box.
“Right away, sir. Did my little speech get to you?”
“What speech?”
“About trying new things?”
“Oh. No.”
Tendou frowns, grumbling about this to himself and finishing packing the box, standing up and heading back to the register.
“Then what are you planning to do with it?”
“Give it to someone I fancy,” Ushijima replies, handing over the payment.
Tendou bites on the inside of his cheek, counting up his change and handing it back.
“If I’d known that, I would have suggested something more romantic. Chocolate strawberries are always a favourite.”
Ushijima nods in acknowledgement, taking the change and carefully folding it away in his wallet.
“He advised that he does not particularly care about favourites,” Ushijima replies, taking the box that Tendou had just finished setting in front of him, and sliding it back across the counter to him.
He’s pretty sure his brain is melting. There’s like ten thousand things he wants to or maybe should say, but the first thing he even thinks about is how goddamn annoying it is that this bastard managed to tongue tie him.
How unpredictable.
Now, maybe it wasn’t unpredictable.
Maybe not.
Maybe Tendou’s ego is just too damn high to admit that what he normally considers to be excellent observation talent has failed him. So, ergo, it was Ushijima Wakatoshi who was just too damn unpredictable and strange.
Yes, that made sense.
“These are for me?” Tendou says, to be safe, feeling like he was losing his mind as he put his hands on the box. “You bought these with the intent of giving them to me?”
“Yes,” Ushijima says.
“...why?”
“Because I like you?” Ushijima says. “And you said that’s what I should do. Actually you used the word fancy which was weird, but… I sort of like that a lot of what you say doesn’t make any sense, so…”
Tendou almost smiles, before looking back down to the box, at a loss for what to say.
“So… what, you want to… date me or something?”
Ushijima nods along a little bit, before saying: “Yes, if you are… open to the idea.”
“I… don’t… go on a lot of dates,” Tendou says, before immediately feeling a swell of panic in his chest. “I can’t… do this… clockwork thing you have going on, doing the same thing every single week isn’t gonna fly with me, you probably don’t know what you’re talking about, you… wouldn’t enjoy dating me, I’m… really weird, and… impulsive and it’ll… totally clash with your whole-” he waves a hand at him “-thing.”
“I actually find that quite attractive about you,” Ushijma replies. “I am a little uncertain about where you got it in your head that I care so much about routine.”
“You are within the same minute of arrival every single week! On the same day!” Tendou says, feeling his voice rise. “You order the exact same thing every time!”
“That is coincidental to my daily routine,” Ushijima says. “We get off at three on Thursdays, and it is the only day of the week I don’t have other obligations. I have to go home, shower, change, and then bus back over here, it is not my fault that that takes approximately an hour and eight minutes to do?”
“Why are you doing that?” Tendou says, and he immediately has to lower his voice, because it was approaching a shriek. Something about learning that this man wasn’t just consistently coming by on his way home, but making a trip out, was irritating beyond belief. “Why do you need these three stupid pieces of chocolate every goddamn week?”
Ushijima shifts his weight. “It felt impolite to waste your time if I wasn’t going to buy something.”
Tendou shuts his mouth, eyes widening slightly.
“You were… you were buying them as an excuse to talk to me?”
Ushijima nods, just slightly. “Truthfully, I… haven’t even eaten everything I’ve bought. I give some of them away, or… save them… the first time I came in I was actually getting a gift for my neighbour, she had helped me with a… plumbing issue I was having… that’s unimportant…”
Tendou cannot help but stare at him.
Ushijima looks down to his hands, and Tendou is no longer certain enough of anything to make any guesses on whatever the hell he was thinking. But, he goes on with:
“I… am sorry if that’s… weird, actually… I just… have never been very good with people, and I certainly have never done this before, I just… really like talking to you. And outside of being a customer, I wasn’t sure there was any other way to have your attention.”
Tendou swallows, still struggling to get his brain back into solid form and address this properly.
He does not respond quick enough.
“That is all, thank you, I will let you finish your work,” Ushijima says quickly, ducking his head before turning to head to the door.
Tendou panics. In true “bonkers chocolatier” fashion he panics, and shoves himself up to practically launch across the glass counter, stretching to grab Ushijima’s hand and physically drag him back - which literally happens, as gravity takes over and he has to put his feet back on the ground.
Ushijima, now, truly, gives Tendou what he had always been looking for - that baffled look of surprise, as he’s yanked by the hand back across the store to where Tendou wanted him.
Finally, he’d caught him off guard.
“You didn’t let me answer,” Tendou says, breathlessly, looking down at their hands, still linked. He likes holding his hand, rough skin but a gently hold, incredibly warm and reminding Tendou how shit his circulation was in his cold fingers.
“You seemed… uncomfortable,” Ushijima mumbles.
“Just surprised,” Tendou assures him. “Very surprised. I am… not very good with people either. Uhm… I’ve never… had to accept a confession before. Or… go on a date before. I was thinking about leaving France on Saturday, do you want to come? I know it… is short notice, and it probably fucks up your routine a ton, and-”
“When will you understand that I have no attachment to my routine?” Ushijima says, interrupting him. “I don’t know where you got this in your head-”
“Again, the four-oh-eight thing is so specific you need to understand that’s not how most people operate,” Tendou laughs, before catching his breath and adding: “So you’ll come? I was just gonna go to the station and see where I could go, I know that’s… a little crazy, and… you know, maybe a bad idea, but-”
“I like the sound of that,” Ushijima replies. “And please, trying to understand that I am not put off by your disinterest in routine. I think it’s quite charming. And it sounds fun, going on an adventure with you.”
Tendou finds himself making a very undignified sort of laughing noise, before lifting his hand to cover his mouth. “Okay, okay,” he says. “Okay.”
Ushijima waits a second longer, before Tendou adds:
“Okay, you can leave now - no! Wait, wait, I need your phone number.”
“Oh, I don’t have a phone,” Ushijima replies instantly.
Tendou almost chokes on the breath he was trying to take in confusion, before he glances up at Ushijima’s face again, and recognizes that snide, rather smug look of self-satisfaction.
“I am kidding,” Ushijima says, just a heartbeat before Tendou can accuse him of as much. “That was another joke.”
He looks so fucking pleased with himself.
Tendou breaks into another smile. “You’re one weird guy,” he says, as Ushijima offers him his phone to put his number into. He cannot help but get a little creative with it as he does, putting his contact name in as his given name only, and throwing the little chocolate bar emoji onto the end of it.
“As you have said before,” Ushijima says, taking his phone back from him, and Tendou thinks, for the first time, that he might actually see a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I hope that’s not a deal breaker?”
Never.