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Katharina Diederich was sometimes thankful that she was her own boss. She fumbled for her keys, stumbling on the busy streets of London and apologizing to everyone that accidentally bumped against her. She had meant only to be gone for a few hours to her parent’s house, but she had fallen asleep and her mother had merely lit a fire and covered the sleeping Dulcian in a blanket. When she had woken up, it was half past nine and Rina’s Ritz was supposed to open at eight. So with a few squeaks and apologies to her mother and father, the flustered Dulcian hurried down the street.
As she finally reached her bakery and her home – the bakery was the lower floor, and it led to her apartment on the second floor – it was nearly eleven in the morning. Her hair was tied in a loose bun and she was in the teddy-bear pajamas her mother had put on her. There was a huge guy outside of the bakery and, at first glance, she thought perhaps he was waiting on a cupcake. Second glance – there was a guitar, loose change in the case, and he looked a bit unshaven. “Excuse me,” she said quietly, trying to get the key in the door.
Success! She cheered quietly as she flicked on the lights inside of the store, shutting the door behind her as she hurried upstairs. Well, this was certainly no way to begin the day, but Katharina decided it could be a whole lot worse. She pulled on her apron dress, tied her hair in a slightly neater bun brushed her teeth, skipping back downstairs to reverse the open sign and grab one of the cupcakes. She opened the door and looked at the tall man. “Good morning! Cupcake?” she asked cheerfully, offering him the cupcake with one hand while digging into the front pocket of her apron for her wallet with the other.
Once produced – it was a very girly shade of light pink with bunnies on the cover – she pulled out a tenner and put it in his case. “I’m Rina!” she chirped, putting her wallet back in her pocket. She gestured to the rather large ‘Rina’s Ritz’ sign. “I’d say you can come in, but I guess that sort of goes against the whole playing on the street thing, huh? Still, it’s cold and I don’t want you to catch a cold…” Katharina rambled, tapping her lips thoughtfully. She gasped and clasped her hands together. “Do you like hot chocolate? What a silly question. Who doesn’t love hot chocolate? I have apple cider, too. I have tea, but no coffee. I wish I liked coffee. My mother tells me that adults like coffee, so I think once I start liking coffee I’ll be a super adult,” she continued.
“I had a point, didn’t I? Hm… oh! Yes, feel free to come in and wait for your drink. Have you eaten this morning? Goodness! You’re awfully thin, if you don’t mind me observing. It’s settled, then. I’ll make you breakfast!” Rina said blithely, pushing open the door to the bakery and moving the pink statue of a cupcake in front of the door to keep it open. She hummed as she bounced around the bakery, rounding the corner into the kitchen.
It was a nice day, he figured, to be out, to play. The weather was warm enough that, for the first time that month, he finally believed it was spring. Others seemed to be appreciating this too, bustling about on errands, women carrying shopping bags, children eating ice cream. He’d had his case accidentally kicked twice now, but chasing after loose change had been something he didn’t mind, simply because that meant there was change to chase after. He’d counted as he had changed songs: twenty-three pounds. That would be enough to get him a place to sleep that night.
He’d set himself up in a prime spot then. The bakery didn’t seem to be open, which was both a blessing and a curse (and also slightly odd, since bakers were usually working from the early hours of the morning). He’d been kicked away from spots like this before, so when the owner, a young brunette – quite beautiful, really, though he would never admit it to anyone – approached, he immediately began gathering his money, intending to pack away his guitar. He was surprised when she popped her head out shortly after to greet him, bearing a cupcake and ten pounds.
There was no keeping Sebastian from a cupcake – or any food, really. He took it gratefully from her hands and bit into it, groaning quietly when the sugary pink icing hit his tongue. He bit in again, watching the ten pounds fall into his case, then watched the girl ramble. She was talkative, a trait he found entirely useful in people. As she spoke, he responded with shrugs, nods, shakes of his head. Really, very talkative. Incredibly talkative. It was almost frightening. The girl didn’t even wait to see if he would come in, and he wasn’t sure he should, but then she was gone and he was putting his guitar in its case anyway, slipping in through the door and settling himself away in a corner, trying not to be a nuisance.
The bakery smelled entirely too good to be real. He very rarely ate freshly made goods. The closest he ever got were the samples that they occasionally gave out at Tesco. Factory made products were cheaper, easier to get, and generally helped him put on a bit of weight. So now he was sitting in a room that smelled so heavenly, he thought his stomach might roar with hunger. As it were, his mouth was watering to the point where he had to wipe his chin with the back of his sleeve. He looked around one last time, then began eating the last of the cupcake he’d been given, wondering how much this cup of hot chocolate would cost him.
He didn’t seem to want to talk to her very much. Katharina didn’t mind – she was exceptionally skilled at holding on a conversation long after the other person had lost interest. He must be a very shy person – most people normally opened up after being handed a cupcake. Or they were suspicious. But the young man took the cupcake without asking anything and she grinned at his expression when he bit into the cupcake. She lived to make people happy with her baking, and those little signs of approval simply made her day! She ushered him inside and, without making sure he was following her, skipped off into the kitchen.
She heard the man enter the store and she continued making him breakfast, humming cheerfully. Katharina was a very sympathetic person – she’d give someone her clothes if she thought they needed it more than her. The same concept applied to her baking – if someone looked hungry, the solution was quite simple. Duh. Feed them. It wasn’t the best business practice, but Rina figured that hungry people were much more important than turning a profit. And anyway, she’d survived for five years from her bakery, so she was doing just fine.
Katharina put the foam inside the hot chocolate, putting a small bit of vanilla flavoring in the cup as well. She scraped some thin bits of chocolate inside as well, setting it on a platter. She set a cinnamon roll on the platter as well. She didn’t know if the man liked cinnamon, but he struck her as the type that would eat anything if given half the chance. Katharina put a blueberry muffin on the platter as well, just to be certain he’d like at least one item of food. She exited the kitchen, and offering him a wide grin.
He was wiping something from his chin, but Rina didn’t question him. She set the platter on one of the tables, sliding into the opposite seat. “Here you go,” she told the much taller man, grabbing her own cup of hot chocolate off the platter and sipped it. She squirmed happily. “I don’t mind you playing outside. I like the way it sounds. I used to want to play guitar, but…” she sighed, shaking her head at her own musical ineptitude. “It isn’t much, but I have more cooking,” she said, pulling her legs under her to peer over him to watch for people coming into the bakery.
Perhaps the food the girl brought for him was not extravagant, or perhaps it was; Sebastian just could not be sure. He'd not seen anything so beautiful in his entire life (that was a lie, but one he would indulge for the time being). The cinnamon roll was aromatic and golden, the blueberry muffin glistening purple where the berries peeped through the beige. He swallowed loudly and wiped his chin again, picking up the roll and biting into it. Oh, it tasted like heaven. Spicy and sweet and tickling the back of his throat.
It was then that he looked up and paid attention to what the brunette was saying. Something about him being allowed to continue playing? Good. Definitely good. He'd be able to pay for this meal, then continue building up a fund for a place to stay. He quickly finished the roll, shoving the remainder in his mouth, then began sipping at his drink (also heaven) while she continued to talk.
Sebastian was vaguely aware that, through social convention, he was expected to reply at some stage and, as the girl had finished talking, he figured it was then. He cleared his throat, opened his mouth, then closed it again. What was he supposed to say? What was her name? Should he introduce himself? Thank her? Too many words. Too many options. He felt his belly stir uncomfortably at the thought, before settling on the shortest question he could think of, and probably one that would need to be asked eventually anyway. "How much?"
All right, so he was definitely the opposite of talkative. Katharina continued rambling nervously, wondering if he was perhaps a mute. She had never met a mute. And wouldn’t she be just so embarrassed if he was? She began signing with her hands while she rambled, trying to demonstrate that she could understand him just find if he had to sign. Instead, he just continued to eat and to look at her. She cut herself off, trying to give him an opportunity to continue the conversation.
The man opened his mouth, and then promptly shut it. Katharina leaned forward, trying to appear supportive. “You don’t have to speak if you don’t want to, obviously,” Rina said, beginning to get flustered. Maybe she had broken him, or maybe she was just too intimidating. Nobody had ever told her that she was intimidating before. Maybe he couldn’t speak English? “Oh no, are you French? I can’t speak French… and I can’t speak German either… or Spanish…” Katharina said, feeling despaired. “I took two semesters of Italian, though.”
Finally, after a slight awkward silence in which Rina was trying to form ‘are you Italian?’ with her rudimentary grasp of the language, he spoken. “How much?”
She lit up, clasping her hands together as she squirmed. “Oh thank Heavens! You speak English!” she cheered. She was going to launch into another ramble when it occurred to her that his words had been rather to the point, and she was supposed to answer. “It’s free of course,” Rina said, tilting her head with a puzzled expression. “I’m not going to let people be hungry if there’s something I can do about it. Change begins with the man!” Rina chirped enthusiastically, then she paused and tapped her lips thoughtfully. “Or woman, in this case…”
Katharina took another sip of her hot chocolate and grinned at the man across from her. “What’s your name?”
Free. The meal was free. Sebastian shifted, overwhelmed by a feeling of gratefulness and guilt. She'd clearly put some work into the meal and he'd not seemed very friendly (thought his lack of speech often portrayed him as antisocial), so surely he had to give her something. Something of worth, except the only thing he had of worth was a pocketful of coins.
He began fishing through his pockets, searching for the five pound notes he'd received. She was still talking about something and he was still listening, then she was sipping her drink and asking him what his name was. Sebastian froze, the pulled out the notes (ten pounds in all) and set them in front of her, before pointing over at his guitar case, which had Sebastian Wilkes scratched into the side of it, along with a terrible etching of a cat.
Few people would be good enough to offer someone a meal, he knew. Nor would they allow a homeless busker to congest the front of their store. The least he could do was speak to her and deal with how uncomfortable it made him. "Sebastian. Your name?"
He gestured to his guitar case. Katharina squinted at it – Sebastian Wilkes. Or maybe it was the name of the cat? Katharina decided to err on the side of ‘human’ and not assume he was a morph. She smiled at him, hoping that it wasn’t just her that he was this silent around. After all, she didn’t want to be scaring the poor boy. The Dulcian looked down at the money he had set in front of her, and then looked back at him, puzzled. She pushed the money back to him with a confused chuckle. “I don’t want your money,” Rina said gently. “Keep it.”
“Sebastian,” the man said finally. Oh! Progress! She had already gathered his name from the guitar case, but this meant that he was willing to speak more than he had to. Right? At least somewhat. “Your name?” Three words! Her face lit up – three whole words! It was almost two sentences!
“Katharina Diederich,” she said. “But all my friends just call me Rina. And since you’re my friend, you should call me Rina, too,” she told him cheerfully. “I like the cat,” she said, pointing to the rather crude etching. “Or is it a dog? Either way, I like it.” So it was a fairly lame conversation topic, but she was trying to get him to talk before asking him about the more personal questions.
Perhaps it seemed rude, but Sebastian did take the money back. If Katharina -- or Rina, as he was told to call her, though Sebastian wasn't sure whether they would be considered friends after such a short time knowing each other -- didn't want the money, then he certainly wasn't going to leave it on the table, accessible to people who'd not done him any good. No, clearly Sebastian needed it more than the girl, and if she was willing to acknowledge that, then he wasn't going to take offense.
"Cat. Thank you," he mumbled, looking at the scratched feline briefly. It was the result of his boredom. His fingers, at the time, had been calloused and he was unable to play, so he'd tried to draw instead. He'd failed miserably. Music was his forte, not art. He regretted the etching. He didn't own many things and he wished he'd taken better care of the worn faux leather guitar case. He cleared his throat. "Can't draw."
“Don’t be silly,” Rina said cheerfully. “You’re much better than I am,” she told him, standing up as he finished the breakfast. “I used to have a cat before I went to university. Her name was Missy Pants. We had to get rid of her. My parents from far away from here and they’re allergic to cats apparently. Also, she was a very violent cat. Once she jumped on me while I was going downstairs and I broke my collar bone and my wrist and sprained my ankle,” Katharina said, and rolled her left wrist. It made a rather large and unhealthy popping noise. “And now I can do this!” she said entirely too happily.
She picked up the tray and her empty mug, bouncing cheerfully into the kitchen as she put the dishes in the washer. “The customers should be coming in soon,” she said, sitting on one of the bar stools on the other side of the bakery near the cash register. “You’re more than welcome to play inside here if you like, if it gets too cold for you. I’ve got very thin skin and bones, so maybe it’s just me who gets cold easily,” the Dulcian said pensively. She’d never questioned before how her sense of temperature aligned or misaligned with that of a human’s.
Finishing his drink noisily, Sebastian set it back on the tray for the Rina to remove. She was still talking. She really liked to talk. Sebastian opened his mouth to reply that he was sorry she had to get rid of her cat, that he was allergic to cat fur, that he'd never really had a pet, but she never stopped for breath, so he just closed his mouth again and listened, nodding when he felt it necessary. It would have been the most he'd spoken in almost a year and the thought made him nervous. He was glad she never stopped to let him answer.
He stood as she stood, took a step to follow her, then stopped and sat down again. He didn't need to follow her into the kitchen. He'd rather not help clean anyway. That seemed like too much work. He wasn't one for work. Just the word made him tired. Really, he just wanted to stay in the warmth of the bakery forever, but then that would be impossible.
Or would it? Forever might be impossible, but for the rest of the day? Rina was offering, after all. There was no point in turning down such a thing when she was offering. He grabbed his things and settled at a table closer to the door, so that his playing might drift outside and draw people in. He had two choices: be cold and miserable outside, but increase his chances of getting more money; or stay warm and happy inside, but earn less. It was an easy choice and, if he couldn't give Rina money directly, then perhaps his playing could draw in more customers.
He pulled out his guitar and began strumming quietly, not looking up from the steel and nylon strings. "Get cold easily too," he said, trying to make his voice as loud as possible so that she could hear him. "Get sick easily."
Raya yawned, stretching her arms as she started to wake up. She grinned at last night's events, that had her sleeping very well. With a sigh, the redhead sat up in the bed. She ran her fingers through her massive mess that she could call her hair. Flinching as she found the tangles, and knots that had managed to form during the night. Finally she turned her head to look at the clock.
Raya blinked, rubbed her green eyes as if to trying to focus her vision. When she opened them again, she looked back at the clock.
10:20am
Raya shot out of bed, frantically trying to find something to wear. Partly because, she was fairly certain that showing up in just her boyfriend's shirt would be unacceptable. And, mostly, because she was extremely late.
By the time Raya actually made it to the bakery, it was nearly eleven. She was trying to put her unruly hair into a loose pony tail; she had put her jacket on backwards, and was currently trying to fix that. On top of that... She was out of breath.
Raya walked inside of the warm bakery, smiling at the man in the corner with a guitar. "Hey Rina, sorry I'm late.. I.." She called out for her boss, trying to explain why she was late. "I was kept up last night."
She walked over to the counter, seeing her reflection in some of the glass. Sighing as she tried to fix her hair, running her fingers through the red strands, in an attempt to brush it out. Before long she had fixed her hair, and looked at the man.
"Hiya." Raya greeted him with a smile, and a curt wave. "Hey Rina, what do you need me to do today?"
Rina looked at him curiously, wondering why he was so silent. Perhaps he did have trouble with English? Surely this went beyond a simple case of anxiety – after all, he’d hardly uttered a single word without her coaxing it out of him. “Oh dear,” she said with a worried frown. “You ought to be more careful. It’d be simply awful for you to get sick,” she requested of him, setting up the bakery and store as she hummed quietly to his song. She put out the white and pink cupcakes for the free samples that she offered to the customers.
He really was quite good at playing the guitar. She smiled at him as she put another sheet of cupcakes in the oven. She would work on the special orders after the general cupcakes had been done. She pulled the design book from behind the counter and put it on the holder in front of the cash register. Normally she did this before they opened, but she was in a hurry and it didn’t seem to be a particularly busy day.
A few customers came in, placing a few pounds each in Sebastian’s case after buying their sweets. Cupcakes, cakes, and a few other assortment of culinary foods. Rina chirped her thanks brightly and glanced at the clock nervously. Raya Unagi was one of her only employees and it was really more of an informal relationship, but she was still a very reliable (if somewhat mischievous) girl. Rina tugged on a curl apprehensively. Raya had assured her she now had a safe place to go at night, but Rina couldn’t help but fret. It was certainly none of her business where Raya spent her days or nights, but she figured it was her job as a friend to care.
Katharina rang up another purchase and smiled at the customer. After the girl left, she regarded the guitarist with a pensive frown. She cleared her throat a little awkwardly and flexed her thin and frail fingers. “You have somewhere to stay tonight, Sebastian?” she asked softly, trying to keep her voice pleasant. She knew a lot of people living on the street had an ingrained suspicion to people asking questions. “I don’t have much room here,” she said, looking to the stairs that led to her small loft. “But I’ll be more than willing to pay for a hotel,” she said tentatively, trying to word it without calling him a charity case.
He certainly wasn’t. Rina formed friendships very quickly, and she was fiercely generous to her friends.
A very harried looking ginger came bustling into the building, and Rina’s face lit up into a bright grin. “Raya!” she chirped happily, bouncing over to the girl and helping her out of her jacket. She straightened out her shirt, helping the girl fix her messy hair. “Oh, don’t worry about being late. I only just got here myself.” Then, the girl’s Dulcian nose caught a whiff of something… intimate. Rina’s cheeks flushed as Raya told her she was kept up last night. The girl’s ears turned a bright red and she looked down at her trembling hands, flustered.
“A-Anything to do? Oh, deary me… I-I don’t think so… oh! The cupcakes are burning!” Rina said, dashing off to the kitchen.
“Oh dear. You ought to be more careful. It’d be simply awful for you to get sick.”
No one had ever cared before. He'd not seen a doctor since he was a baby and, in times of childhood sickness, his mother had just tucked him into bed and fed him fruit and vitamins. They were natural, she would say. They were given to them by the Earth, always as though the Earth was a majestic being who had graced them with its presence. Those had been the only sorts of medication he'd know. They were the only experiences he'd had with anyone even close to caring about his health. He reacted now as he had reacted back then, and shrugged, ignoring her for the most part.
By the time 10AM came and went, customers began arriving, stopping to listen to him, then placing coins in his guitar case. He'd nod his thanks, smiling brightly, then watch them approach the counter and leave (or take a seat, where he'd immediately stop watching them, for fear of seeming perverse). By 10:15AM, he had thirty pounds and a button. He picked up the shiny silver trinket, cocked his head in confusion, then dropped it back among the coins. He'd not be wasteful. That button might come in useful one day, he knew. He was snapped out of his reverie when Rina spoke again.
“You have somewhere to stay tonight, Sebastian? I don’t have much room here, but I’ll be more than willing to pay for a hotel.”
Sebastian's head fell to the side again in confusion and surprise. No one had ever cared before. He'd had people invite him home, to eat or play or simply visit, but he'd never had someone offer to pay for a place for him to sleep. He'd always stuck to parks, where he could wake as the sun did. He blinked now at Rina, eyes squinted suspiciously, shrugging again. After a few of contemplating, he nodded and smiled tightly, pointing down at the guitar case in front of him. Enough money for a hostel. Enough money for a good nights rest. He would be fine. "Thirty quid," he said politely. "I'll be fine. Thank you." He began plucking at his strings again.
Shortly afterwards, a redhead arrived, smiling and greeting him. Sebastian stared back at her awkwardly, but his lips twitched into something that, he hoped, resembled an accommodating smile. His fingers didn't falter while he played an old rock ballad, singing quietly. He felt comfortable singing. It stretched his vocal chords, but didn't require personal implications or thought. Another customer entered the bakery, dropping a fiver in his case, before leaving again. He watched after the suited man curiously, then turned to watch Rina as she hurried into away, exclaiming about burning cupcakes. Cupcakes. He stared longingly at the display of free samples.
"Raya!" Raya heard the cheerful tones of her boss's voice, to be honest, she didn't think there was anything that could bring Rina down. "Rina! Sorry I'm so late." Raya apologized, as Rina helped her with her unruly hair, and with straightening her shirt.
"Oh, don't worry about being late. I only just got here myself." The dark haired baker explained, before her ears and cheeks turned bright red.
Raya flinched inside her head, regretting not taking a couple extra minutes to shower. That and who knew what little love marks the Detective had managed to leave on her pale skin. Raya shook off her bit of embarressment, and gave a smile to the musician. Who... sort of returned it, as he started up another song on his guitar. Well this was new, and could bring in more customers. "Hey Rina, what do you need me to do today?"
"A-Anything to do? Oh, deary me... I-I don't think so... oh!" Rina sounded a bit flustered, "The cupcakes are burning!" Then Rina rushed off into the kitchen to get the cupcakes.
Raya let out a sigh, and shook her head. "Be careful." Then grabbing two of the free sample cupcakes, she placed them on the table by the musician. "Let us know how they taste, I'm going to go help Rina." She gave him a friendly smile, before going into the kitchen, slipping on some over mitts.
"I'll help. That's what I'm here for right?" She asked, as she carefully pulled out the cupcakes. "To help out my friend, and boss."
Her smile remained bright as he narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously as he shrugged. Katharina was just about to backpedal and admit that it was none of her business and that he certainly didn’t have to answer any questions that he didn’t feel comfortable with, when he smiled. It was definitely more than a little forced, but Katharina decided to ignore that for the moment. His smiles didn’t need to be genuine for her to appreciate the effort. “Thirty quid. I’ll be fine. Thank you,” Sebastian told her. Only thirty quid? She’d have to slip some more inside the case the next time she got closer.
She didn’t want him to spend his money on a place to sleep, especially not when she could afford to rent him a room for a week or two. She drew a deep breath and told herself that this was a human being with feelings and not a project to fix. It was always her problem with working at the homeless shelters – she always got too attached, and then they stopped going to the shelter and Rina was left feeling slightly abandoned, but she took it all in stride. They must have found better opportunities, the sorts of opportunities that neither Rina nor the shelter could offer.
Raya entered and Rina helped her straighten out her clothes cheerfully, thinking nothing of the disheveled appearance of her coworker. Her cheeks and ears turned slightly red as she smelled the intimate smell lingering on Raya’s skin. She quickly excused herself, muttering some nonsense about her cupcakes burning. She highly doubted that they were burning, but it was possible so not a lie. Once inside the kitchen she leaned against the counters and drew a deep breath, trying to get the embarrassment to have faded from her being. It was quite the invasion of privacy on Rina’s part and she hadn’t meant to.
“I’ll help,” Raya said, putting on some oven mitts. Rina smiled and nodded, pointing to the oven as she began to ice a cupcake. “That’s what I’m here for right?” Raya asked, pulling out the cupcakes. Rina patted the counter space next to her. She smiled gratefully and finished the cupcake she’d been working on. “To help out my friend, and boss.” Rina giggled happily and looked up at Raya, dropping the frosting on the counter and hugging Raya. Unfortunately, Rina had forgotten about the very hot pan and sucked in a sharp breath against Raya's ear as she felt the heat sear against her stomach.
She flailed backwards ungracefully, squeaking loudly as she held her stomach. The kitchen smelled of burnt fabric and flesh, and Rina stared at the pan, wounded. “That was silly of me,” Rina giggled, turning back to her cupcakes shakily. She felt rather out of sorts as she put the finishing touches on the next cupcake. “I must have forgotten that ovens are hot.” Owowowowowowow. She took a deep breath, putting the cupcakes in a ribboned box with a neat cursive name.
“How rude of me,” Rina murmured, putting the box on the counter as she walked back over to Sebastian with Raya’s arm clutched gently to her. She was still holding her stomach slightly, but the pain had mostly gone (okay, it hadn’t) and it would eventually go away (maybe). “Sebastian Wilkes, this is Raya Unagi. Raya Unagi, this is Sebastian Wilkes.”
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