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keith_ltd2021-10-25 12:23 pm
runawayballista) wrote in keith_ltd2021-10-25 12:23 pm
Hello, Happy Diner!
Fandom: BanG Dream!/Midnight Diner
Title: Hello, Happy Diner! (2020)
※ complete, one shot
Characters: Misaki Okusawa, Master, Saya (Midnight Diner)
Summary: On her way home from a long day, Misaki stops at a little hole in the wall in Kabukicho for a late-night snack and reminisces about the first meal she ever shared with Kanon.
Other: vague misaki/kanon vibes but the real ship here is misaki/a moment's peace
Notes: "an episode of midnight diner" is the ideal fic format and here's my thesis. strongly recommend listening to the theme music for the Vibe
AO3 mirror
🎵 🎶 🎵
When people finish their day and hurry home, my day starts.
My diner is open from midnight to seven in the morning. They call it the “Midnight Diner”.
I don’t have much on my menu. But I make whatever customers request as long as I have the ingredients for it. That's my policy.
Do I even have customers? Well, more than you’d expect.
《 ざるそば 》
《 ZARUSOBA 》
My diner isn’t strictly adults only. Some of my regulars are parents and bring their kids along from time to time. I never really mind. But because of the late hours, it's unusual for me to have high school students as customers. In fact, Misaki-chan was the first one to drop by in quite some time.
It was hot and sticky outside, one of the worst kinds of muggy July nights, and Misaki stared in dismay at the sign over the closed entrance to the train station that politely pronounced its temporary closure. Next time you’re running errands in a different part of the city, check the schedule first, okay?
She hadn’t really minded being asked to pick up a few things on her way home from the studio, but the detour had taken her farther off her usual route through Shinjuku than she’d realized, and she’d kind of planned it all around taking the train home from this station. The air was hot and thick, and she was carrying way too much stuff. The six-block walk from the store had her slightly winded, sweat matting her hair to her cheeks. Ughhhh.
Misaki checked her phone. There was a train headed for her neighborhood at a station farther away, but it was nearly a mile walk. She checked the time and sighed. Just after midnight. Well, the trains would be running out of that station until one-thirty, so at least she didn’t have to run, and her parents already knew she’d be out late. Maybe she could hit a vending machine along the way for a cold drink.
The route took her right past Golden Street, and she ducked into one of the smaller alleyways to avoid the bulk of the night-roaming crowds. This neighborhood seemed fairly tame, at least. A patrol officer looked up from his newspaper and waved cheerfully at her from the police box as she passed. She gave him a hesitant smile back as she paused to catch her breath. She had to wrangle the shopping bags onto one arm so she could dig into her pocket for a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from her forehead. Agreeing to carry Hagumi’s bass home for today had been a mistake, although it seemed like a perfectly reasonable favor at the time. Hagumi had been called to an emergency meeting with her softball team and didn’t have time to stay and help tidy the equipment, even pack her bass up. She asked, thanked, and apologized to Misaki for the favor all in one breath, promising to pay her back in croquettes for her trouble even as she bolted out the studio door. Uh, no, that’s not necessary, Misaki had tried to call after her, but sometimes Hagumi moved faster than the speed of sound. Honestly, some days she really gave Kokoro a run for her money.
Misaki wouldn’t have said no anyway.
That said, the bass was heavy on her back, and it was not making her walk any less sweaty. And now that she’d stopped for a moment, her stomach was demanding her attention with an alarming gurgle. Actually, croquettes would be pretty nice right about now…
A warm, savory scent caught her attention, wafting on a faint breeze. She’d grabbed a snack from the cafe on their way out of CiRCLE after practice, but that was hours ago now. Farther down the street, she could see that the lit paper lanterns in front of a diner signified that it was still open.
She lifted the flap of the cloth awning and poked her head inside. It was an old-fashioned looking place, with room only for stool seating at the three-sided bar. Distinctly lived in, but well kept, the bartop worn to a smooth finish through rigorous and attentive use. The menu was posted on the wall over aging wallpaper. It was a, uh...pretty conservative menu even for a place like this.
“Pork soup, sake, and beer? That’s it?”
She kept the words to herself, muttered under her breath. It was nearly as hot and stuffy inside as it was outside, but even so, that tempting aroma was actually making her crave a hot bowl of soup. But the place was nearly empty. There was only one customer, a young woman somewhere in her twenties, and she was…asleep. Just nodded off upright at the counter, hands still cupped around her mostly empty glass.
Misaki cleared her throat and raised her voice. “Um, are you about to close?”
A man poked his head out from the back kitchen, tall enough that he needed to hunch slightly. He was plainly dressed with an unremarkable short haircut, and a plain-looking kind of guy all around, except for the nasty-looking scar over one eye that started well above his eyebrow and dragged down his cheek, halfway to his mouth. Misaki balked. What did I just walk into, a yakuza movie set? All he’s missing are the tattoos…
“No, just opening, actually. You came at the right time.” He emerged from the kitchen, small dish in hand, and set it down in front of the sleeping girl.
“Saya-chan,” he said gently, “your chicken karaage’s done.”
She blinked herself awake with a fuzzy expression, smiling vaguely as she returned to the world of the waking. “Thanks, Master. Sorry, I nodded off for a minute there.”
The master of the diner chuckled lightly, standing back with his arms crossed, a lit cigarette in his mouth. Despite the scar—which, Misaki felt, was just a little bit much—he had a warmth that made her feel a little more at ease. He apparently didn’t mind his regulars nodding off at the bar while they waited for their food. Well, when you don’t open until midnight…
“Don’t worry about it. You had a pretty long shift tonight.” He nodded at Misaki. “Have a seat. What can I get for you?”
“Oh, uh…” Misaki glanced furtively at the karaage, then back at the menu. “Ah...pork soup, please.”
The woman named Saya gave her an encouraging little grin. It was a total coincidence to meet someone else by that name, but there was something knowingly sweet about her smile that really reminded Misaki of Saya Yamabuki.
“You can order anything you want here, you know. As long as he has the ingredients, Master will make whatever you ask for.”
“Wait, really?” Misaki glanced back at Master, who was nodding. “In that case, can I get some zarusoba?”
His mouth quirked up into a half-smile. “Sure. It is a little hot for soup tonight, isn’t it?”
He turned and headed back into the narrow kitchen, and Misaki finally let out a breath as she unshouldered Hagumi’s bass case and sat down in the stool next to Saya. She was glad the place was mostly empty; the case nearly took up the seat next to her, and she had to furtively stuff the shopping bags in close to her schoolbag. By fortune, she seemed to be sitting under the breeze of a tiny, ancient fan mounted in the corner that looked like it had been installed before she had been born. She poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher on the counter, drank it in one go, and let out an explosive sigh.
“Long day, huh?” Saya smiled and tilted her head sideways, looking at the bass case. “What do you have there, a guitar? I imagine that’d be pretty heavy to walk around with, especially in this heat.”
“It’s a bass guitar, actually, and...yeah, it’s pretty heavy. Honestly, half the reason I stopped in here was just to catch my breath…”
She got up to pour herself another glass of water as Saya bit into another piece of chicken karaage. Her eyes closed, her face lit up in a smile of pure bliss. There seemed to be something nostalgic about it, too, like she was revisiting some favorite memory with every bite. Misaki wasn’t sure she’d ever seen anyone enjoy eating so much. Was the food here really that good? Maybe the woman was still waking up. She’d been asleep at the counter for a little while, it seemed.
Saya seemed to come back to herself with a little shiver—maybe she needed a bit more of a nap—and lifted her glass for a drink. “Do you play in a band?”
“Yeah—I mean, I don’t play the bass, I’m just holding onto this for a friend.” Once the words were out, Misaki regretted that “yeah”. She was proud to be a member of Hello, Happy World! these days, the band was as important to her as it was to them all, but at the same time…there was a definitive difference between telling her classmates about the band she played in as a giant pink bear and telling adult strangers about it.
Saya brightened with interest. “So what’s your band called? What kind of music do you make?” She strummed an air guitar with chopsticks for frets. “Rock and roll? Pop? Or maybe hip hop? That seems like it’s getting pretty popular these days.”
“Aha…” I already have regrets. “To be honest, I don’t really know what genre I would describe us as…but we’re called Hello, Happy World.”
Saya snapped her chopsticks together. “I’ve heard of you! You’re the band with the big pink bear mascot, right? I think I’ve seen your posters.” She let out a dreamy sigh. “Being in a band seems like so much fun, but I can’t even imagine having time for it as a student. When I was in high school, I barely had time for after-school clubs and cram school.”
Yeah, try adding a part-time job, too…
“Luckily I’m not doing cram school this semester, but…yeah, it can get pretty busy. But we always make time. Somehow.” Misaki smiled despite herself, tracing a finger along the edge of her cup. “We do have a lot of fun. Sometimes those guys can really get out of hand, but no matter what happens, they always manage to end the day with smiling faces. Even if mine does come with a headache.”
Saya laughed. “It must be wonderful to have such high-spirited friends. But it sounds like they need someone a little more mature by their side, too.” She tilted her head, chin propped on her hand. “What’s your name?”
“Ah—Misaki Okusawa. It’s nice to meet you. And you’re...Saya-san, right?”
Saya gave her a smile and a little wink as she swallowed another bite of karaage. “Mmhm. I work at a pachinko parlor not too far from here, so I like to come here after my shifts. No one in Shinjuku makes chicken karaage like Master.”
Huh, yeah. I guess if you work at one of those late-night places around here, a midnight diner is probably perfect. Sometimes you just don’t want to go home right away after a long day.
Master emerged from the kitchen again and set a plate down in front of her. There was a perfectly sized portion of fresh chilled soba noodles piled on a bamboo strainer, topped with shredded nori. There was nothing deliberate or artful about the arrangement, but it gave off the strong feeling that this was a perfectly cooked dish. Something about the way the noodles glistened in the low light of the diner made them seem even more refreshing.
“Here you go. One order of zarusoba. I wasn’t sure if you liked green onions, so I left them on the side.”
Misaki snapped apart a pair of chopsticks. Her stomach gurgled fiercely in anticipation. “Thank you for the food.”
She scattered a few of the green onions to mix in with the noodles and nori, dipped the noodles into the chilled sauce and slurped them up. The cold noodles were refreshing, and overall, it was pretty good. Wait, no, it was more than just pretty good. Misaki’s eyes widened slightly.
No way…what is this? This is at least as good as any soba I’ve had in a soba shop. The noodles are cooked to the perfect texture, the sauce is perfectly proportioned…even the green onions taste incredibly fresh. But at the same time, there’s a distinctly home-cooked feeling.
“This is delicious,” Misaki blurted out before she’d even finished chewing. A half-smile lit Master’s face.
“Yeah? Glad to hear it. You looked like you could use a cold snack.”
“Master,” Saya chimed in, “Misaki-chan told me she’s in a band! They’re called Hello, Happy World, and they have this ultra cheerful vibe, and they play at parks and preschools too! And one of their members dresses up in a cute bear mascot costume for their shows. Isn’t that cool?”
Misaki nearly choked on her soba. Master, back to his default stance of arms crossed, leaning back slightly, raised his eyebrows. “Oh? I don’t know a whole lot about popular music these days, but yeah, that does seem pretty fun.”
It’s okay, really, you don’t have to pretend to be interested…
"Aha—I mean, we’re just a high school band, so—”
“He means he doesn’t listen to young people’s popular music,” Saya said with a reproachful look. “Master, you’ve had singers perform here before. I heard you even sold an enka singer’s CDs for a little while! That’s not the only good music out there, you know. You should give girls bands a chance too!”
Master looked caught in a bind—embarrassed, Misaki realized, by the way he coughed into his hand. Misaki jumped in, waving a hand.
“No, really, it’s fine, our music has kind of a, uh, esoteric sound, I guess you might say. It’s not really everyone’s taste, so…”
I definitely don’t think someone who only listens to enka is interested in music performed for kids.
Sure enough, there was a look of faint relief on Master’s face. Saya clapped her hands together, smiling encouragingly at Misaki. “Don’t be so modest! I’d really love to hear one of your songs. You don’t mind, do you, Master?”
“Ah...well, I guess not, no.”
Misaki, feeling a little cornered and ultimately too weary to put up a fight, conceded with a suppressed grimace. “If you really want to listen, um, sure…”
She scrolled through her phone, sweating a little as she tried to pick a song to play. What was the most normal-sounding—no, the least weird-sounding song? Well, she finally decided, you can’t go wrong with a classic. With an apologetic smile, she hit play on “Orchestra of Smiles”.
She let it go about as far as the end of the first chorus before stopping the music, sweeping her phone back into her bag hurriedly. “Well, you get the idea.”
Saya was clapping her hands, looking delighted. “It’s so much fun! It really does make you want to smile just by listening. Master, what do you think?”
Oh, Misaki thought with a dismal smile, that’s fine, you really don’t need to ask him for his opinion…
“It was…pretty lively,” Master said. Generously, Misaki thought. Saya pursed her lips.
“Don’t be so stingy, Master! I think it’s pretty incredible for a high school band. They pack so much into their music, and their singer has so much energy!”
“You can say that again.” The weary smile appeared on Misaki’s face without her really thinking about it. “Kokoro is the biggest handful of them all. She never stops bouncing around, it’s a wonder I can even keep up with her, let alone translate her nonsense into something normal people can understand. If a migraine could take human form, its name would be Kokoro Tsurumaki.”
By the end, Saya was laughing. “And yet you still talk about her with a smile on her face.”
Misaki buried an embarrassed look in her glass. “Well, if Kokoro was one hundred percent headache, I wouldn’t be in the band. Despite her, uh, tenuous grip on reality...she really does know how to make people smile. Though if it weren’t for Kanon-san, I don’t think I’d survive half our studio sessions.”
Saya held up her now-empty glass. “Master, another highball, please. Is Kanon-chan your bassist?”
“Oh—no, that’s Hagumi. Kanon-san is our drummer. Actually, she was the first member Kokoro drafted—uh, recruited. She’s always bringing me water or coffee, making sure I’m hydrated and take breaks now and then. She’s a year older, so I think she’s just trying to be a good senpai and take care of me, but honestly, the biggest help is knowing she can take care of herself. I don’t have to worry about her bouncing off the walls or turning our rehearsals into a literal circus.”
“Hmmm.” Saya grinned. “I don’t know about that. It sounds like she really cares about you, Misaki-chan.”
Misaki was saved from further embarrassment when Master set a fresh glass down in front of Saya.
“Your highball.” He set another glass down in front of Misaki, this one filled with orange juice. “I’d offer you iced tea, but I figured you wouldn’t want any caffeine this late.”
He gave her a little smile, eyebrows quirked up, and Misaki felt suddenly seen. Aha...he knows that was kind of embarrassing for both of us.
“Thanks, Master.” Misaki took a drink of her juice and picked up her chopsticks, then stopped with a slightly puzzled look. “Huh.”
“Something wrong with the juice?”
“No, I just realized…I didn’t even think about it until just now, but zarusoba was the first meal I shared with Kanon-san.”
Saya’s smile brightened, and she clasped her hands together. “Really?”
“Yeah, it was shortly after we’d formed the band, and I still wasn’t sure I wanted to stick with it.” Without really thinking about it, Misaki took a left turn onto memory lane. “I was totally wiped out after rehearsal and feeling pretty frustrated, so she offered to treat me to make up for it. Come to think of it, it was this time of year, too…”
“Oh?” Saya’s tone was encouraging, trying to tease the story out of her. Misaki wasn’t usually given to sharing that much with strangers, but there was something about this place—the food, the lighting, even the owner—that just put her at ease. She’d just stopped by for a snack and to get away from the heat, but she was actually enjoying herself now.
“Yeah. Actually, she offered to buy me ice cream first, but I’m always starving after practice, so she suggested a soba shop she knew nearby.” Misaki puffed out a laugh. “But the thing about Kanon-san is that she could get lost going across the street. She was getting more and more frantic, because she knew I was hungry and tired, and it was so hot out—in the end, we wound up having to look up directions on my phone. It turned out the soba shop was only four blocks from the studio.”
“And how long did you and your friend wander around the neighborhood before you found it?”
Misaki actually grinned into her glass as she took a drink of her juice. “Almost an hour.”
Master’s eyebrows climbed steadily up his forehead. Misaki decided that he really didn’t look scary at all when he smiled. He had such a relaxed air that you could even forget about the scar. “And you didn’t think to look at a map before that?”
“I suggested it pretty much immediately, but she insisted she knew the way.” Misaki’s smile turned fond, and she turned her glass idly on the countertop, framed in a ring of condensation. “She was so embarrassed when she finally gave up. I think she just wanted me to feel like I could rely on her. She kept apologizing pretty much right up until the food came.”
“Sounds like a pretty good senpai to me,” Master said with a nod. Saya just smiled.
“She sounds like a pretty good friend, too. She must really like you, Misaki-chan, if she goes to that much trouble to look after you.”
Misaki coughed, feeling her cheeks redden, but smiled through the rising embarrassment. “I mean, I think we have a lot in common compared to the other band members, in some ways. The only two who can appreciate a moment of quiet, for instance.”
“Those are the best moments, aren’t they?” Saya grinned over her highball. “After a busy day, or in the middle of it, when everything around you is nothing but flashing lights and busy people moving place to place, and you find this little bubble of peace. Just a moment to breathe. Sometimes having someone else there is like…like someone holding the door open for you, for just a second.”
Flashing lights and busy people…yeah, that was pretty much a live show in a nutshell. Misaki thought of little moments, the spaces between the last drum fill and Kokoro’s voice announcing the next song, when she’d see Kanon raising her drumsticks with an encouraging smile. The rush of air when she finally took off Michelle’s head, Kanon already there with a water bottle and a towel. Despite herself, Misaki’s smile spread a little further.
“Yeah…they kind of are.”
“What kind of person is Kanon-chan?” Saya asked. So far it was just the two of them here, but it seemed pretty obvious by now that this was just kind of how it was here. Strangers talking openly about their personal lives, prying into others’ not with greedy curiosity but with a genuine curiosity and a desire to share. It probably had something to do with the diner’s odd hours. Something about this time of night just seemed to make some barriers melt away.
“Hm…well, it’s probably redundant to say she’s kind, but I think that’s probably the first word I’d use to describe her. She’s really sensitive to other people’s feelings, which is good, because the tact that everyone else in the band possesses couldn’t fill a teacup. That said, she’s got a real bad case of nerves, and she’s terrible at advocating for herself, but she still doesn’t let that stop her from trying new things. She’s so easily spooked, but she always forges on. Even though she’d probably be better off quitting sometimes.” A little laugh escaped her. “Kanon-san’s so quiet, she tends to get outshone by the rest of the band, but she’s pretty incredible too.”
“Hmm.” Saya grinned. “Just as I thought.”
Misaki blinked. “Huh?”
Saya winked. “She really is a good friend. You should treat her sometime, too. I bet it’d make her happy.” She looked over at Master almost conspiratorially. “Misaki-chan, you should bring her here! Treat her to Master’s zarusoba.”
Master grinned, crossing his arms, and nodded. “If you come back with your friend, it’s on the house.”
“Seriously? I mean—are you sure that’s okay?” Misaki looked between Saya and Master, who were both nodding.
“You should be on summer vacation soon, right? If she doesn’t mind staying up a little late, I’ll serve her that zarusoba.”
He nodded at the now very diminished pile of noodles in front of Misaki. No offense, Kanon-san, but this guy’s zarusoba is even better than that soba shop’s…
Misaki smiled without reservation for the first time that night and ducked her head.
“Thank you. I think she’d really like that.”
She caught the little clock in the corner and saw that it was already half past midnight. She slurped up the rest of her noodles and pulled a couple of bills out of her wallet, nodding to Master, then Saya.
“I’d better get going if I actually want to make it home tonight, but…thank you for the food, Master. I can’t really explain it, but eating the food here, it…kind of just put me at ease.”
Master grinned, looking pleased. “Yeah? I get that a lot. Glad to hear it. Make sure you get home safe now.”
Misaki ducked her head in a grateful nod to him, and then to Saya with a self-effacing smile. “It was nice to meet you too, Saya-san. I never really thought of our music as something adults might like, but it was, um…nice to see that it made you smile. I think the rest of the band will be happy to hear it too.”
Saya raised her empty glass in a little toast. “Next time you do one of those concerts in the park, I’ll be there.”
Misaki finished shouldering all of her luggage, Hagumi’s bass heavy on her back once again, and Saya pulled back the door so she could shuffle outside without dropping anything. When she left, it was with a smile on her face. Saya let out a happy little hum and settled back into her seat.
“Ah, being in a band sounds so fun,” she sighed, picking up her chopsticks. “What a sweet girl she is. It sounds like she works pretty hard.”
“Yeah, she seems like a good kid. I wish more high schoolers were that level-headed.” Master, arms crossed, nodded at her empty glass. “Another highball?”
Saya clapped her hands together. “Yes, please!”
“Sure thing,” Master said with a nod, and ducked back into the kitchen.
Title: Hello, Happy Diner! (2020)
※ complete, one shot
Characters: Misaki Okusawa, Master, Saya (Midnight Diner)
Summary: On her way home from a long day, Misaki stops at a little hole in the wall in Kabukicho for a late-night snack and reminisces about the first meal she ever shared with Kanon.
Other: vague misaki/kanon vibes but the real ship here is misaki/a moment's peace
Notes: "an episode of midnight diner" is the ideal fic format and here's my thesis. strongly recommend listening to the theme music for the Vibe
AO3 mirror
When people finish their day and hurry home, my day starts.
My diner is open from midnight to seven in the morning. They call it the “Midnight Diner”.
I don’t have much on my menu. But I make whatever customers request as long as I have the ingredients for it. That's my policy.
Do I even have customers? Well, more than you’d expect.
《 ZARUSOBA 》
My diner isn’t strictly adults only. Some of my regulars are parents and bring their kids along from time to time. I never really mind. But because of the late hours, it's unusual for me to have high school students as customers. In fact, Misaki-chan was the first one to drop by in quite some time.
It was hot and sticky outside, one of the worst kinds of muggy July nights, and Misaki stared in dismay at the sign over the closed entrance to the train station that politely pronounced its temporary closure. Next time you’re running errands in a different part of the city, check the schedule first, okay?
She hadn’t really minded being asked to pick up a few things on her way home from the studio, but the detour had taken her farther off her usual route through Shinjuku than she’d realized, and she’d kind of planned it all around taking the train home from this station. The air was hot and thick, and she was carrying way too much stuff. The six-block walk from the store had her slightly winded, sweat matting her hair to her cheeks. Ughhhh.
Misaki checked her phone. There was a train headed for her neighborhood at a station farther away, but it was nearly a mile walk. She checked the time and sighed. Just after midnight. Well, the trains would be running out of that station until one-thirty, so at least she didn’t have to run, and her parents already knew she’d be out late. Maybe she could hit a vending machine along the way for a cold drink.
The route took her right past Golden Street, and she ducked into one of the smaller alleyways to avoid the bulk of the night-roaming crowds. This neighborhood seemed fairly tame, at least. A patrol officer looked up from his newspaper and waved cheerfully at her from the police box as she passed. She gave him a hesitant smile back as she paused to catch her breath. She had to wrangle the shopping bags onto one arm so she could dig into her pocket for a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from her forehead. Agreeing to carry Hagumi’s bass home for today had been a mistake, although it seemed like a perfectly reasonable favor at the time. Hagumi had been called to an emergency meeting with her softball team and didn’t have time to stay and help tidy the equipment, even pack her bass up. She asked, thanked, and apologized to Misaki for the favor all in one breath, promising to pay her back in croquettes for her trouble even as she bolted out the studio door. Uh, no, that’s not necessary, Misaki had tried to call after her, but sometimes Hagumi moved faster than the speed of sound. Honestly, some days she really gave Kokoro a run for her money.
Misaki wouldn’t have said no anyway.
That said, the bass was heavy on her back, and it was not making her walk any less sweaty. And now that she’d stopped for a moment, her stomach was demanding her attention with an alarming gurgle. Actually, croquettes would be pretty nice right about now…
A warm, savory scent caught her attention, wafting on a faint breeze. She’d grabbed a snack from the cafe on their way out of CiRCLE after practice, but that was hours ago now. Farther down the street, she could see that the lit paper lanterns in front of a diner signified that it was still open.
She lifted the flap of the cloth awning and poked her head inside. It was an old-fashioned looking place, with room only for stool seating at the three-sided bar. Distinctly lived in, but well kept, the bartop worn to a smooth finish through rigorous and attentive use. The menu was posted on the wall over aging wallpaper. It was a, uh...pretty conservative menu even for a place like this.
“Pork soup, sake, and beer? That’s it?”
She kept the words to herself, muttered under her breath. It was nearly as hot and stuffy inside as it was outside, but even so, that tempting aroma was actually making her crave a hot bowl of soup. But the place was nearly empty. There was only one customer, a young woman somewhere in her twenties, and she was…asleep. Just nodded off upright at the counter, hands still cupped around her mostly empty glass.
Misaki cleared her throat and raised her voice. “Um, are you about to close?”
A man poked his head out from the back kitchen, tall enough that he needed to hunch slightly. He was plainly dressed with an unremarkable short haircut, and a plain-looking kind of guy all around, except for the nasty-looking scar over one eye that started well above his eyebrow and dragged down his cheek, halfway to his mouth. Misaki balked. What did I just walk into, a yakuza movie set? All he’s missing are the tattoos…
“No, just opening, actually. You came at the right time.” He emerged from the kitchen, small dish in hand, and set it down in front of the sleeping girl.
“Saya-chan,” he said gently, “your chicken karaage’s done.”
She blinked herself awake with a fuzzy expression, smiling vaguely as she returned to the world of the waking. “Thanks, Master. Sorry, I nodded off for a minute there.”
The master of the diner chuckled lightly, standing back with his arms crossed, a lit cigarette in his mouth. Despite the scar—which, Misaki felt, was just a little bit much—he had a warmth that made her feel a little more at ease. He apparently didn’t mind his regulars nodding off at the bar while they waited for their food. Well, when you don’t open until midnight…
“Don’t worry about it. You had a pretty long shift tonight.” He nodded at Misaki. “Have a seat. What can I get for you?”
“Oh, uh…” Misaki glanced furtively at the karaage, then back at the menu. “Ah...pork soup, please.”
The woman named Saya gave her an encouraging little grin. It was a total coincidence to meet someone else by that name, but there was something knowingly sweet about her smile that really reminded Misaki of Saya Yamabuki.
“You can order anything you want here, you know. As long as he has the ingredients, Master will make whatever you ask for.”
“Wait, really?” Misaki glanced back at Master, who was nodding. “In that case, can I get some zarusoba?”
His mouth quirked up into a half-smile. “Sure. It is a little hot for soup tonight, isn’t it?”
He turned and headed back into the narrow kitchen, and Misaki finally let out a breath as she unshouldered Hagumi’s bass case and sat down in the stool next to Saya. She was glad the place was mostly empty; the case nearly took up the seat next to her, and she had to furtively stuff the shopping bags in close to her schoolbag. By fortune, she seemed to be sitting under the breeze of a tiny, ancient fan mounted in the corner that looked like it had been installed before she had been born. She poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher on the counter, drank it in one go, and let out an explosive sigh.
“Long day, huh?” Saya smiled and tilted her head sideways, looking at the bass case. “What do you have there, a guitar? I imagine that’d be pretty heavy to walk around with, especially in this heat.”
“It’s a bass guitar, actually, and...yeah, it’s pretty heavy. Honestly, half the reason I stopped in here was just to catch my breath…”
She got up to pour herself another glass of water as Saya bit into another piece of chicken karaage. Her eyes closed, her face lit up in a smile of pure bliss. There seemed to be something nostalgic about it, too, like she was revisiting some favorite memory with every bite. Misaki wasn’t sure she’d ever seen anyone enjoy eating so much. Was the food here really that good? Maybe the woman was still waking up. She’d been asleep at the counter for a little while, it seemed.
Saya seemed to come back to herself with a little shiver—maybe she needed a bit more of a nap—and lifted her glass for a drink. “Do you play in a band?”
“Yeah—I mean, I don’t play the bass, I’m just holding onto this for a friend.” Once the words were out, Misaki regretted that “yeah”. She was proud to be a member of Hello, Happy World! these days, the band was as important to her as it was to them all, but at the same time…there was a definitive difference between telling her classmates about the band she played in as a giant pink bear and telling adult strangers about it.
Saya brightened with interest. “So what’s your band called? What kind of music do you make?” She strummed an air guitar with chopsticks for frets. “Rock and roll? Pop? Or maybe hip hop? That seems like it’s getting pretty popular these days.”
“Aha…” I already have regrets. “To be honest, I don’t really know what genre I would describe us as…but we’re called Hello, Happy World.”
Saya snapped her chopsticks together. “I’ve heard of you! You’re the band with the big pink bear mascot, right? I think I’ve seen your posters.” She let out a dreamy sigh. “Being in a band seems like so much fun, but I can’t even imagine having time for it as a student. When I was in high school, I barely had time for after-school clubs and cram school.”
Yeah, try adding a part-time job, too…
“Luckily I’m not doing cram school this semester, but…yeah, it can get pretty busy. But we always make time. Somehow.” Misaki smiled despite herself, tracing a finger along the edge of her cup. “We do have a lot of fun. Sometimes those guys can really get out of hand, but no matter what happens, they always manage to end the day with smiling faces. Even if mine does come with a headache.”
Saya laughed. “It must be wonderful to have such high-spirited friends. But it sounds like they need someone a little more mature by their side, too.” She tilted her head, chin propped on her hand. “What’s your name?”
“Ah—Misaki Okusawa. It’s nice to meet you. And you’re...Saya-san, right?”
Saya gave her a smile and a little wink as she swallowed another bite of karaage. “Mmhm. I work at a pachinko parlor not too far from here, so I like to come here after my shifts. No one in Shinjuku makes chicken karaage like Master.”
Huh, yeah. I guess if you work at one of those late-night places around here, a midnight diner is probably perfect. Sometimes you just don’t want to go home right away after a long day.
Master emerged from the kitchen again and set a plate down in front of her. There was a perfectly sized portion of fresh chilled soba noodles piled on a bamboo strainer, topped with shredded nori. There was nothing deliberate or artful about the arrangement, but it gave off the strong feeling that this was a perfectly cooked dish. Something about the way the noodles glistened in the low light of the diner made them seem even more refreshing.
“Here you go. One order of zarusoba. I wasn’t sure if you liked green onions, so I left them on the side.”
Misaki snapped apart a pair of chopsticks. Her stomach gurgled fiercely in anticipation. “Thank you for the food.”
She scattered a few of the green onions to mix in with the noodles and nori, dipped the noodles into the chilled sauce and slurped them up. The cold noodles were refreshing, and overall, it was pretty good. Wait, no, it was more than just pretty good. Misaki’s eyes widened slightly.
No way…what is this? This is at least as good as any soba I’ve had in a soba shop. The noodles are cooked to the perfect texture, the sauce is perfectly proportioned…even the green onions taste incredibly fresh. But at the same time, there’s a distinctly home-cooked feeling.
“This is delicious,” Misaki blurted out before she’d even finished chewing. A half-smile lit Master’s face.
“Yeah? Glad to hear it. You looked like you could use a cold snack.”
“Master,” Saya chimed in, “Misaki-chan told me she’s in a band! They’re called Hello, Happy World, and they have this ultra cheerful vibe, and they play at parks and preschools too! And one of their members dresses up in a cute bear mascot costume for their shows. Isn’t that cool?”
Misaki nearly choked on her soba. Master, back to his default stance of arms crossed, leaning back slightly, raised his eyebrows. “Oh? I don’t know a whole lot about popular music these days, but yeah, that does seem pretty fun.”
It’s okay, really, you don’t have to pretend to be interested…
"Aha—I mean, we’re just a high school band, so—”
“He means he doesn’t listen to young people’s popular music,” Saya said with a reproachful look. “Master, you’ve had singers perform here before. I heard you even sold an enka singer’s CDs for a little while! That’s not the only good music out there, you know. You should give girls bands a chance too!”
Master looked caught in a bind—embarrassed, Misaki realized, by the way he coughed into his hand. Misaki jumped in, waving a hand.
“No, really, it’s fine, our music has kind of a, uh, esoteric sound, I guess you might say. It’s not really everyone’s taste, so…”
I definitely don’t think someone who only listens to enka is interested in music performed for kids.
Sure enough, there was a look of faint relief on Master’s face. Saya clapped her hands together, smiling encouragingly at Misaki. “Don’t be so modest! I’d really love to hear one of your songs. You don’t mind, do you, Master?”
“Ah...well, I guess not, no.”
Misaki, feeling a little cornered and ultimately too weary to put up a fight, conceded with a suppressed grimace. “If you really want to listen, um, sure…”
She scrolled through her phone, sweating a little as she tried to pick a song to play. What was the most normal-sounding—no, the least weird-sounding song? Well, she finally decided, you can’t go wrong with a classic. With an apologetic smile, she hit play on “Orchestra of Smiles”.
She let it go about as far as the end of the first chorus before stopping the music, sweeping her phone back into her bag hurriedly. “Well, you get the idea.”
Saya was clapping her hands, looking delighted. “It’s so much fun! It really does make you want to smile just by listening. Master, what do you think?”
Oh, Misaki thought with a dismal smile, that’s fine, you really don’t need to ask him for his opinion…
“It was…pretty lively,” Master said. Generously, Misaki thought. Saya pursed her lips.
“Don’t be so stingy, Master! I think it’s pretty incredible for a high school band. They pack so much into their music, and their singer has so much energy!”
“You can say that again.” The weary smile appeared on Misaki’s face without her really thinking about it. “Kokoro is the biggest handful of them all. She never stops bouncing around, it’s a wonder I can even keep up with her, let alone translate her nonsense into something normal people can understand. If a migraine could take human form, its name would be Kokoro Tsurumaki.”
By the end, Saya was laughing. “And yet you still talk about her with a smile on her face.”
Misaki buried an embarrassed look in her glass. “Well, if Kokoro was one hundred percent headache, I wouldn’t be in the band. Despite her, uh, tenuous grip on reality...she really does know how to make people smile. Though if it weren’t for Kanon-san, I don’t think I’d survive half our studio sessions.”
Saya held up her now-empty glass. “Master, another highball, please. Is Kanon-chan your bassist?”
“Oh—no, that’s Hagumi. Kanon-san is our drummer. Actually, she was the first member Kokoro drafted—uh, recruited. She’s always bringing me water or coffee, making sure I’m hydrated and take breaks now and then. She’s a year older, so I think she’s just trying to be a good senpai and take care of me, but honestly, the biggest help is knowing she can take care of herself. I don’t have to worry about her bouncing off the walls or turning our rehearsals into a literal circus.”
“Hmmm.” Saya grinned. “I don’t know about that. It sounds like she really cares about you, Misaki-chan.”
Misaki was saved from further embarrassment when Master set a fresh glass down in front of Saya.
“Your highball.” He set another glass down in front of Misaki, this one filled with orange juice. “I’d offer you iced tea, but I figured you wouldn’t want any caffeine this late.”
He gave her a little smile, eyebrows quirked up, and Misaki felt suddenly seen. Aha...he knows that was kind of embarrassing for both of us.
“Thanks, Master.” Misaki took a drink of her juice and picked up her chopsticks, then stopped with a slightly puzzled look. “Huh.”
“Something wrong with the juice?”
“No, I just realized…I didn’t even think about it until just now, but zarusoba was the first meal I shared with Kanon-san.”
Saya’s smile brightened, and she clasped her hands together. “Really?”
“Yeah, it was shortly after we’d formed the band, and I still wasn’t sure I wanted to stick with it.” Without really thinking about it, Misaki took a left turn onto memory lane. “I was totally wiped out after rehearsal and feeling pretty frustrated, so she offered to treat me to make up for it. Come to think of it, it was this time of year, too…”
“Oh?” Saya’s tone was encouraging, trying to tease the story out of her. Misaki wasn’t usually given to sharing that much with strangers, but there was something about this place—the food, the lighting, even the owner—that just put her at ease. She’d just stopped by for a snack and to get away from the heat, but she was actually enjoying herself now.
“Yeah. Actually, she offered to buy me ice cream first, but I’m always starving after practice, so she suggested a soba shop she knew nearby.” Misaki puffed out a laugh. “But the thing about Kanon-san is that she could get lost going across the street. She was getting more and more frantic, because she knew I was hungry and tired, and it was so hot out—in the end, we wound up having to look up directions on my phone. It turned out the soba shop was only four blocks from the studio.”
“And how long did you and your friend wander around the neighborhood before you found it?”
Misaki actually grinned into her glass as she took a drink of her juice. “Almost an hour.”
Master’s eyebrows climbed steadily up his forehead. Misaki decided that he really didn’t look scary at all when he smiled. He had such a relaxed air that you could even forget about the scar. “And you didn’t think to look at a map before that?”
“I suggested it pretty much immediately, but she insisted she knew the way.” Misaki’s smile turned fond, and she turned her glass idly on the countertop, framed in a ring of condensation. “She was so embarrassed when she finally gave up. I think she just wanted me to feel like I could rely on her. She kept apologizing pretty much right up until the food came.”
“Sounds like a pretty good senpai to me,” Master said with a nod. Saya just smiled.
“She sounds like a pretty good friend, too. She must really like you, Misaki-chan, if she goes to that much trouble to look after you.”
Misaki coughed, feeling her cheeks redden, but smiled through the rising embarrassment. “I mean, I think we have a lot in common compared to the other band members, in some ways. The only two who can appreciate a moment of quiet, for instance.”
“Those are the best moments, aren’t they?” Saya grinned over her highball. “After a busy day, or in the middle of it, when everything around you is nothing but flashing lights and busy people moving place to place, and you find this little bubble of peace. Just a moment to breathe. Sometimes having someone else there is like…like someone holding the door open for you, for just a second.”
Flashing lights and busy people…yeah, that was pretty much a live show in a nutshell. Misaki thought of little moments, the spaces between the last drum fill and Kokoro’s voice announcing the next song, when she’d see Kanon raising her drumsticks with an encouraging smile. The rush of air when she finally took off Michelle’s head, Kanon already there with a water bottle and a towel. Despite herself, Misaki’s smile spread a little further.
“Yeah…they kind of are.”
“What kind of person is Kanon-chan?” Saya asked. So far it was just the two of them here, but it seemed pretty obvious by now that this was just kind of how it was here. Strangers talking openly about their personal lives, prying into others’ not with greedy curiosity but with a genuine curiosity and a desire to share. It probably had something to do with the diner’s odd hours. Something about this time of night just seemed to make some barriers melt away.
“Hm…well, it’s probably redundant to say she’s kind, but I think that’s probably the first word I’d use to describe her. She’s really sensitive to other people’s feelings, which is good, because the tact that everyone else in the band possesses couldn’t fill a teacup. That said, she’s got a real bad case of nerves, and she’s terrible at advocating for herself, but she still doesn’t let that stop her from trying new things. She’s so easily spooked, but she always forges on. Even though she’d probably be better off quitting sometimes.” A little laugh escaped her. “Kanon-san’s so quiet, she tends to get outshone by the rest of the band, but she’s pretty incredible too.”
“Hmm.” Saya grinned. “Just as I thought.”
Misaki blinked. “Huh?”
Saya winked. “She really is a good friend. You should treat her sometime, too. I bet it’d make her happy.” She looked over at Master almost conspiratorially. “Misaki-chan, you should bring her here! Treat her to Master’s zarusoba.”
Master grinned, crossing his arms, and nodded. “If you come back with your friend, it’s on the house.”
“Seriously? I mean—are you sure that’s okay?” Misaki looked between Saya and Master, who were both nodding.
“You should be on summer vacation soon, right? If she doesn’t mind staying up a little late, I’ll serve her that zarusoba.”
He nodded at the now very diminished pile of noodles in front of Misaki. No offense, Kanon-san, but this guy’s zarusoba is even better than that soba shop’s…
Misaki smiled without reservation for the first time that night and ducked her head.
“Thank you. I think she’d really like that.”
She caught the little clock in the corner and saw that it was already half past midnight. She slurped up the rest of her noodles and pulled a couple of bills out of her wallet, nodding to Master, then Saya.
“I’d better get going if I actually want to make it home tonight, but…thank you for the food, Master. I can’t really explain it, but eating the food here, it…kind of just put me at ease.”
Master grinned, looking pleased. “Yeah? I get that a lot. Glad to hear it. Make sure you get home safe now.”
Misaki ducked her head in a grateful nod to him, and then to Saya with a self-effacing smile. “It was nice to meet you too, Saya-san. I never really thought of our music as something adults might like, but it was, um…nice to see that it made you smile. I think the rest of the band will be happy to hear it too.”
Saya raised her empty glass in a little toast. “Next time you do one of those concerts in the park, I’ll be there.”
Misaki finished shouldering all of her luggage, Hagumi’s bass heavy on her back once again, and Saya pulled back the door so she could shuffle outside without dropping anything. When she left, it was with a smile on her face. Saya let out a happy little hum and settled back into her seat.
“Ah, being in a band sounds so fun,” she sighed, picking up her chopsticks. “What a sweet girl she is. It sounds like she works pretty hard.”
“Yeah, she seems like a good kid. I wish more high schoolers were that level-headed.” Master, arms crossed, nodded at her empty glass. “Another highball?”
Saya clapped her hands together. “Yes, please!”
“Sure thing,” Master said with a nod, and ducked back into the kitchen.