The cafeteria buzzed with lunchtime chatter, metal trays clinking, and the faint aroma of miso soup mingling with freshly steamed rice. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead as Hasegawa leaned back in his chair, chopsticks in hand, halfway through his pork bowl.
"…she said she's not ready for marriage yet," Mutou-san grumbled, glaring at the stir-fried vegetables on his plate like they personally offended him. "It's been five years. If she's not ready now, I don't know if she ever will be."
Sakai-kun, across the table, heaved a long sigh. "At least she doesn't talk about kindergarten kids twenty-four-seven. Mine keeps telling me what Miyu-chan or Haruto-kun did in class. I swear, one day she's gonna say she wants a baby. With me."
"Hah, tragic," Kitagawa-san drawled with a mock solemnity, lifting his teacup like a toast. "And that, my dear friends, is why being single is paradise. No late-night calls. No guilt trips. No suspicious glances when I stay out until morning. Just me, my beer, and total freedom."
He turned to Hasegawa with a lopsided smirk. "Say, Hasegawa. You're with me on that, right?"
Hasegawa chuckled, setting his chopsticks down. "Having a girlfriend is a pain in the ass. I mean, if I need to blow off steam, there's always my right hand. Or, you know…" He winked. "A couple bills and a call to the red-light district."
Sakai-kun burst out laughing. "Yeah right! And here I thought you left work early the other day for a real date, kacho."
Before Hasegawa could retaliate, Mutou-san cut in with a sly grin. "Speaking of that… Is it true you had drinks with Morikita-san the other day?"
Hasegawa barked a laugh, but as he tilted his head back, his eyes caught a familiar figure walking into the cafeteria, Morikita Daichi, heading toward the vending machine.
Senpai...
And slow grin tugged at Hasegawa's lips.
"Well, well," he muttered, pushing back his chair. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen. Gotta greet our new colleague."
Kitagawa-san raised a brow. "Don't get punched, Hasegawa."
"No promises," Hasegawa said over his shoulder.
He strode past tables of murmuring employees and a row of microwaves buzzing with reheated bentos. The vending machine stood at the far end, humming faintly as it displayed an array of hot beverages. Daichi had just slipped a few coins into the slot when Hasegawa, without so much as a hello, casually reached out and pressed a button.
Clunk—hiss—whirr
The machine obediently poured a hot cup of cappuccino into the tray.
Daichi blinked, frozen for a beat. "...The fuck."
"I assumed you'd want it," Hasegawa replied, entirely too pleased with himself. "Somehow, hot cappuccino fits you, sen— uhmm, Morikita-san. I can imagine it. You know, some lonely high schooler version of you, brooding with a paper cup, watching the morning traffic from the footbridge. Am I too detailed?"
"Tch." Daichi clicked his tongue in irritation, aware of Hasegawa's sarcasm that touched the past.
But the scowl didn't last long. His lips twitched into a professional, perfectly polite smile. "And I assume you have a knack for judging people's taste based on appearance alone, Hasegawa-san?"
"I call it instinct," Hasegawa said, laughing.
He stepped a little closer, his tone suddenly coaxing. "Come on, why don't you have lunch with us? Kitagawa-san and the others are over there."
Daichi's brows subtly furrowed. "I have something to check—"
"If you act cold to me, people might start to suspect something," Hasegawa said smoothly, his voice dropping to a near-whisper as he leaned in. "And here, nobody hates me. Well... except those old geezers who are jealous of me."
Daichi exhaled slowly through his nose. He looked at the cappuccino like it was somehow responsible for all this.
"…Fine. But you're treating me."
"Uhm, deal," Hasegawa said without missing a beat. "I assume you'd love the cafeteria karaage. Though I believe you'd love even more the karaage I make."
Daichi gave him a look so flat it could level a mountain. Still, with a resigned sigh and the cappuccino in hand, he followed Hasegawa across the cafeteria, steps in sync.