Three Shots of Revenge and a Crepe for Spring
Hina, who had been doing nothing but read the room, slipped in at last.
"Th-that's right, Miru! Oppa's just a really gentle, ordinary person who makes amazing coffee! He even did this totally pretty latte art for me..."
"Shut your mouth. Ghost the group chat, ditch your shift, and you've still got plenty to say."
"Eek...!"
Having shut Hina down in a single breath, Miru strode over, yanked out a chair at a table that hadn't been smashed to pieces, and dropped into it.
"Fine. Official safe zone, vouched for by that old man, and you're sitting pretty in the poor little victim slot. I get the picture."
She tapped the tabletop with a finger.
"So. Our half-wit teammate's trailing after you calling you oppa because your skills are that impressive? Let's see this talent. Make me something that suits me. Taste bad, and don't think this ends with one broken table."
"Of course. I'll prepare something that suits you. If only to protect the tables I have left..."
A soft smile at the corner of my mouth, I went straight to the espresso machine. I packed finely ground beans firm into the portafilter and pulled a ristretto three times. The reason was simple: a petty little revenge for being called mister three times. Hospitality, though, I couldn't skip. I took out dough I'd set to age ahead of time and cooked it thin across the pan, spreading plenty of soft whipped cream between the layered crepe sheets and slicing in fresh red strawberries without holding back. The very opposite of the rough, sharp-edged air she gave off—a bright, sweet strawberry crepe fit for a spring day, set carefully on a small plate.
"A three-shot ristretto, for the three times you called me mister... and a sweet strawberry crepe."
At the two small plates pushed across the counter, Miru lowered the head she'd been holding at a cocky tilt.
"Hah? Hell of a grudge you've got, mister. What—three shots 'cause I said it three times?"
The corner of her mouth twisted, and a dry laugh broke out of her. She pulled her right hand from the pocket of her baseball jacket and pinched the little espresso cup's handle lightly between two fingers. She glared at the dark coffee sloshing in the cup with a suspicious eye, then lifted it to her lips without a moment's hesitation. The instant the black liquid passed between her lips, Miru's eyes squeezed into a fierce scowl.
"Ghk... damn it, this is insanely bitter! You spike it with poison or something?!"
Face crumpled, she set the cup down with a clack and glared at me, vicious enough that she looked ready to draw the pistol inside her jacket on the spot. I didn't flinch. I slid a thin fork across the counter. Miru clicked her tongue, snatched the fork in a fit of nerves, stabbed the corner of the strawberry crepe beside her, and shoved it roughly into her mouth.
She chewed. The pace of her jaw slowed, just a fraction. As if she were tasting the sweetness spreading through her mouth, the sharp, cocked edge of her gaze loosened and drifted off into the air.
"...Tsk."
She clicked her tongue again and cut what remained of the crepe with the fork. Unlike that first rough handling, her hands this time were careful enough that the cream wouldn't squeeze out between the thin layers.
"Pointlessly good with your hands. Annoying..."
The tone was still blunt, but the hostility from a moment ago was gone from her voice. Hina, who had been holding her breath at the corner of the counter and watching, finally let out a small sigh of relief.
"A ristretto is pulled at half the volume of an espresso. It's a way of bringing out more of the beans' aroma and flavor. So... what you just drank was actually about a shot and a half."
I added it in a gentle voice, as if teasing her for having a child's palate. The moment I finished, the hand holding the fork stopped dead in midair. She stared at me with round eyes, not even thinking to wipe the white cream from her mouth.
"Wh... what?!"
Miru's face flushed red in an instant. As if to hide how flustered she was, she leaned her upper body tight against the counter.
"Y-you treating me like a kid right now, mister?! Shot and a half or whatever, that thing earlier was bitter as a death draught! You dump it down raw with no syrup—of course it's bitter!"
She snapped it out and fidgeted with the grip of the pistol inside her jacket. That was when Hina, who had been holding her breath beside the counter, peeked her head out as if she'd just caught Miru's weak spot. The fear from before was nowhere to be found. Her uniquely annoying voice filled the café.
"Pfft. Whaaat, Miru~? You were putting on all that swagger, and you've got a baby palate that can't even drink coffee? You sure you're older than Hina?"
"Will you actually shut up, Hina! You're my teammate—how are you taking this mister's side?!"
"Who said I took his side! Hina's just stating facts~."
"Seriously... just you wait when we get back."
Miru bit down hard on her lower lip, frustrated. She looked back and forth between the empty espresso cup and the crepe plate, jerked her chin, and slid the empty plate toward me.
"Hey, mister! What are you doing! Bring me another one with strawberries! I've gotta wipe this bitter taste out, don't I!"
It came out rough, a barked order—but the flushed tips of her ears, and the eyes that slipped away from mine, kept it from feeling as lethal as before. If anything... it was a little cute.
"Right away."
Just as she asked, I cooked another thin batter. So it could bury the lingering bitterness of the espresso in one go, I layered rich chocolate cream and red strawberries and set a chocolate crepe out on the counter.
"I made it a little bigger than the last one. It won't be as flashy as something from a crepe shop, but I put plenty of care into it."
That was when Hina, cheeks puffed at the corner of the counter, came all the way in behind it and clung tight to my arm and shoulder. Soft warmth and weight pressed against my arm. A sweet perfume brushed the tip of my nose, and a silver twin-tail filled one side of my vision.
"Oppa! That's so unfair! Why do you only make something that big and sweet for Miru when she's being so mean!"
She whined, pressing herself hard against my arm.
"Hina loves sweet things too, you know! I want your attention the most...! This makes me super sad!"
With Hina's whining on my shoulder for background noise, Miru was staring down at the big chocolate crepe on the counter. A flush still lingered on her pale cheeks, but there wasn't a shred of hesitation in the hand resetting its grip on the fork. The moment she stabbed the corner where thick chocolate cream was oozing out and pushed it into her mouth, she chewed—and her eyes widened, just barely. The crooked corner of her mouth was about to lift in satisfaction when her gaze locked onto Hina hanging off my shoulder.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing over there!"
She hurriedly wiped her mouth and shouted, fork still in hand. With her mouth stuffed full of sweet chocolate crepe, what came out was a slight mumble instead of anything lethal.
"You're wrecking the team's image, clinging to a civilian like a leech! I'm already in a weird mood and pissed off—get off him right now!"
"Nooo! Oppa is Hina's! Miru can just eat all that big chocolate by herself!"
Hina paid Miru's scolding no mind at all. If anything, she locked both arms tight around my neck and rubbed her cheek against my shoulder like she was marking territory. A vein popped on Miru's forehead, but her eyes were already darting busily between Hina burrowing into my arms and the sweet crepe left on the plate.
I pressed a fingertip lightly into Hina's sulkily puffed cheek.
"The moment you walked in, I made you a heart latte for your very first espresso, and I brought out a spring special that looks just like you. Who do you think all those snacks you ate earlier were for? And besides..."
I drew my finger back and met her eyes.
"This morning it was just the two of us, so I was thinking we might have lunch together."
Hina, lips pouted at the poke to her cheek, went still. As if the words leaving my mouth were assembling one by one in her head, the heart shapes caught in her eyes trembled and grew. The sulky face bloomed, in an instant, into a radiant smile.
"Hah... l-lunch?! For real?! Just Oppa and Hina, the two of us?!"
She rubbed her cheek wildly against my arm and let out a happy little hum. Still stuck tight to my shoulder, she turned her head and threw a triumphant look at Miru, sitting in the chair beyond the counter.
"You hear that, Miru?! Oppa was waiting to eat with Hina, just the two of us! That's a huge special treatment that doesn't even compare to that chocolate crepe you're eating! Ehehe, I knew it—Oppa likes Hina the best~"
Hit head-on by that outrageous provocation, Miru's fork paused in midair.
"What the hell are you doing in a café first thing in the morning. Seriously, my eyes are gonna rot."
She roughly wiped the chocolate cream from her mouth with the back of her hand and scowled, then clicked her tongue in disbelief at Hina, hanging off my arm and grinning.
"Hey, Hina! You gonna keep grinning like a total idiot and tanking your image?! You're not a puppy drooling and wagging its tail over whatever meal this mister throws you—you got no pride at all?!"
Both of Miru's hands jerked irritably toward the inside of her baseball jacket. Her fingers settled, unsteady, on the pistol at her waist. Tapping the cold metal grip, she turned a sharp gaze on me.
"You knock it off too, mister. Keep pulling tricks just because our idiot teammate falls for that kind of wordplay, and I'll put bullet holes in the walls of this shop."
It was a warning growled out like a threat, but in the end her hand never drew the gun. It came back to the counter. Grumbling all the while, Miru lifted the fork again, cut a big piece of what remained of the chocolate crepe, and pushed it into her mouth. Hina, though, didn't hear the vicious warning even with the back of her ear. Humming a little tune, she burrowed even deeper toward my shoulder.