Chapter Text
Every. Single. Day since starting your new job at the corner store, you’ve seen him. If he’s not in the store buying a fresh pack from you then he’s across the street taking a smoke break. You wonder how he stays looking so young and handsome smoking that much. You tried to convince him once that he would save more money by buying the bulk box but he insists that they are not the same as the single packs.
It makes you wonder how busy his shop must be because he is always freaking outside. The store is full of different kinds of motorcycles, lined up and down the expanse of the windows. The side of the building, where he spends most of his non-smoking time, is made up of one huge garage door that’s always open during business hours. There’s at least two or three bikes in there at any given time and he is always tinkering away with laser focus when he is actually working. It’s rare to see someone so honed in on what they love that they do it everyday without losing interest. He looks like he loves his work, even when he’s there from open to way after closing most nights.
He’s your typical mechanic type, that’s for sure. So tall and lanky but his coveralls fit like they are tailored just for him. The black hair that frames his face looks soft to the touch despite you seeing him push it backwards with a greasy, gloved hand on more than one occasion. Usually on his first trip of the day to the corner store for smokes, he smells like cologne. By his evening trip for pack number two or three, he smells more like a mechanic, oil and cigarettes but still, it is just as alluring as he is in the early hours of the day. It’s not just the way he looks or smells, it’s something else. He has this energy that you’re drawn to.
You’re not the only one who is drawn though, outside a normal customer or two, he has a lot of “regulars”. They spend his smoke breaks with him and even when there’s more than one in the group, they look at him with amazement. Enthralled in whatever he is telling them with a cigarette hanging from his lips wasting away because he is too focused on his words. Likely because he uses his hands for his craft, he uses them a lot when he talks, animated and lively like he needs you to see how it really should be and you just have to believe what he is saying.
Like a damn boyscout, he is actually the nicest guy on this block. You’ve seen him help his community countless times. The elderly can always count on the usual Shinichiro escort across the street. The older ladies love him and he loves the attention you think, he blushes and smiles wildly at their compliments. The corner store rarely gets robbed now too because Shinichiro and his regulars scared and chased down the last group of punks who tried.
More importantly, within the scope of his neighborly radar, he’s nice to you as well. Every morning, it starts with him and his usual can of Coke, smokes and his pestering you for updates on what really is new with you this week. His concern is always so genuine when you’re having a bad day and his smirk is always so dangerous when you’re having a great one.
If you had to sum up the entity that is Shinichiro Sano, you would just say that he is cool.
So cool, that it is intimidating in a way, like you’d never be in his league because he is just that cool. You feel like your life is a mess and he seems like he has life figured out. He’s so peaceful about it too, like maybe doing what you love every day really does bring true happiness... You admire that about him. His friends, family and regulars all adore him and it makes you feel so small because you’re just the friendly cashier from the corner store. He’d probably still spend his money here on cancer sticks even if you didn’t work here.
You would think that a man like Shinichiro would have the coolest girlfriend in the entire world and yet somehow, he is still single. Last week, you overheard his friends in the chip aisle say that their dear friend, Shin, needed to get a girl. Apparently he’s been falling asleep in the shop, consumed in his work to an unhealthy degree and grumpier than ever. It struck you as odd to think about him being lonely and angry because he always seems so positive around you. Maybe it doesn’t bother him? Hearing about his lack of partner did make you a little happy to hear because that little voice of hope inside you latched on to it.
Hearing this drastically amplified how you felt about the raven haired bike enthusiast across the way.
It was like a door you thought would never open was blown clean off its hinges. Like a stoplight in your brain turned green and said GO! GO! Go! Like a medical journal saying, yes this is actually possible now! You wake up feeling giddy at the real possibilities of getting close to that good looking fellow across the street. Maybe you could be that 'coolest girlfriend ever' that you pictured before. Except now, you were in a pickle...how do you get through that open door?
It's been proving difficult lately because you're so damn flustered just thinking about him. Your cheeks start heating up before he steps inside the doorway. You’re turning stalker, watching his movements through the big windows of the store and also wondering if he’s watching you too. Sleep is a foreign concept to you now as you lay awake in bed at night tossing and turning. Seeing flashes of him and your brain is writing stories for you and paring them with perfect images of how he’d look smiling back at you, holding your hand in his, brushing a stray hair back behind your ear, how warm he'd feel while you hold onto him on the back of a bike, how he’d look out of breath on top of…
The work day goes by slower than ever too, minutes feeling like hours between his morning visit and a possible evening visit. This situation is getting so bad, you’re not even sure if you can continue to function properly around him with all of these feelings. It’s affecting your whole world. Not to mention how embarrassing and unprofessional it is to be having so many thoughts, even dirty ones, about your regular customer. You’re down so bad that you didn’t realize that one of his friends was standing right before you, watching you stare longingly out the window across the street, waiting to purchase a bag of candy.
There is an aura of boredom in his, “You good?”. It startled you out of your daydreaming and also alarmed you because, fuck how long has he been standing there? “Oh! Yes, I’m sorry. I must have zoned out just now. Sorry about that,” You scan his item, “That’ll be 2.05.” You’re surprised you didn’t stutter through your words. “Thanks doll.” He smiles and hands you exact change but lingers after you put the cash into the register. Why is he still here?
Paranoid, your mind races, maybe he secretly knows that you’re mentally unwell right now about his friend. “I swear, I’m good. Thank you for stopping in today.” You give him a smile and as you thank him, he looks back at you now, more puzzled and tilting his head slightly, studying your lie before a smile spreads across lips, “Hey, I get it. Works’a drag but can I ask you somethin’?”
Your heart sinks into your stomach. Logically, there is no way he can know that you’re having this internal crisis over a stupid crush. Illogically though, you acting like a weirdo right now in front of his snowy haired friend isn’t helping your case so with a nod, you say yes. He pauses his focus on you for a moment to pop a lollipop into his mouth, pushing it to the side to speak as he gestures with a thumb towards the bike shop. “You see Shin pretty often right?”
That’s it. You’re so dead. If you could just collapse and die right now, that would be the only way out of this fresh hell. Can you die from embarrassment? You hope you’re the first documented case. Your heart rate is jacked, why on earth is he bringing this up now? Why today? He must be a mind reader, that’s the only explanation. You can only nod right now, your body and mind in complete disarray. “Okay, well I’ll cut to the chase,” your body tenses up like it’s expecting a bullet, he looks back at you now with a look of concern, “Does he seem okay to you lately?”
Relief washes over in one big, calming wave. You’ll thank whatever higher power later on but for now you are safe, thank fuck. He’s worried about his friend, not you! “I haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary…” With more confidence you speak up and can talk freely now that your silly little secret hasn’t been exposed, “Except there was one thing...,” You can’t help but giggle a little remembering, “He was avoiding Mrs. Marsh the other day. Said something about her trying to get him to give her a ride on one of his bikes?” Mrs. Marsh is 75 years old so you understood his concerns and let him hide out in your backroom while she searched the store looking for him. You can't fault her either, who doesn't want to take a bike ride through the city with him?
His eyes widen at your response and lets out a small huff of a laugh. “She is still hung up on that? That woman is persistent. Bet she was a fun one back in the day.” He shakes his head and his shoulders slacken, maybe relief washing over him too. “I just had to ask, you know? He’s been working late these days, hardly even goes home to sleep. I warned Benkei not to get him a futon for the shop.” He looks towards that same window again and you finally get to see it up close - that look you’ve only seen from afar but now you recognize it, it’s a look of admiration.
Watching him pop a second lollipop, you wonder if all of Shinichiro’s friends have assorted addictions like he does. This friend seems like a good one and sharing this memory with him gave you a strange second wind of confidence. With the info you heard the other day and now seeing his friend concerned enough to ask the cashier who provides his friends’ little white and brown vices, you wonder, maybe there is something you missed. Is he doing okay? You’re head over heels for the man but are you really even paying attention to him if you don’t even notice if he’s slightly off his game lately?
The thought bothers you, like you’re some oblivious partner already, failing him in some way. It bruises your heart that even his close friends aren’t quite sure how to handle this. Maybe you can make up for this blunder, maybe you can help his friend here and by extension, help him? Surely, he would do the same for you and the thought of being useful for more than just convenience store sundries was enticing.
So you speak up, knowing it could reveal a little piece of your secret to the candy crusher in your store right now.
“Honestly, I’ve also noticed that he’s been staying late. He never looks upset so I just assumed he was really passionate about motorcycles. I thought it was kind of cool, like a hobby you can’t work out of your system until you just do it,” You look away from him. Cheeks burning up, now you’ve said too much, plan backfiring but it feels oddly comforting to talk to someone about how you’ve been feeling just a tiny bit. And maybe it’s not so weird, his friends seem to think he’s pretty neat too. Stay strong.
You make the mistake of looking back up at him and all that admiration he was showing to his friends direction was aimed right at you with intensity. “Oh shit, sorry. I’m not helping here. Uhm, I can try and find out if there’s something wrong. I mean, he always asks how I’m doing. It wouldn’t be too strange for me to try and pry a little...” You push your hair back behind your ear, nervousness bubbling back up.
He grins devilishly at your rambling, curiosity oozing from his words, “You really think Shin is cool?”
Fuck.