Monotonous | Nanami Kento x Reader

1 | Y/N | The Monotonous Baker

There was a certain monotonous laced into your everyday life. One that you were almost thankful for. The reassuring drawl of tedium was like an anchor, reminding you that there was nothing overwhelming about your daily life, and thus, made it bearable, and even enjoyable to a certain extent.

Waking up to your jobs wasn't difficult. Maybe having to listen to the same alarm every morning was a little annoying, especially when the sound of it blared like an impeding siren of doom; But you never really found the will to change it -- and neither did you even know how to. Getting ready was a fairly doable event, having to sweep your hair into a ponytail with a headband to slick back your flyaways before you go off to work for the entire day and return home only to repeat the cycle over and over.

It might've been enough to turn someone crazy, but someone doesn't represent everyone.

Oddly enough, to you, it was almost comforting. The constant smell of the bakery filled with delicious treats never changed, and you preferred it that way.

But just like one man's trash is another man's treasure, the same could be said for the opposite.

Even with the recent aches that had been plaguing you with discomfort, you didn't let that stop you from doing your best, even when faced with a customer that didn't quite feel the same way as you.

Standing across from the counter was a tired man who felt every bit as tired as you did on the inside, except it was plainly showed on his handsome features. A strong jawline with sunken cheeks -- would it still be possible to pinch them? -- and squinted brown eyes as they peered through the glass casing, scanning the layers of delicate pastries that had been baked just that morning.

Although he came here every day, you recognized him from his unique features, including blonde hair meticulously combed to a 7:3 ratio. It also helped that he was one of the only regulars that rarely striked conversation.

He always picked out the same food item every time he came, which was practically daily, but the strangest part was he would still look over the menu as if he was looking at it for the first time. 

You found yourself staring at him as he mused over what to buy, your eyes roving over his features. Sharp and stern, almost icy. It intrigued you, how he looked was a reflection of his inner self, which must've been utterly exhausted, yet still functioning. How could a single person take upon so much burden?

H/C strands slant to the side as your head tilts slightly as you examine him curiously. To your surprise, he looks up almost immediately, his cold eyes almost causing you to shiver. They were a deep colour, like the crisp Autumn leaves that decorate the sidewalks outside. 

Almost fitting, you thought.

"May I get this bread?" His voice interrupts your thoughts as he points at the variety he wanted, his voice deep.

His manners never ceased to failed, and it brought a smile to your lips. "Of course!" 

You didn't need to tell him the price since he already knew, already placing a few bills on the counter as he patiently awaited his purchase. 

As you opened the casing, the warm waft of freshly baked pastries made you beam in pride. Looks like all that time you spent baking since the crack of dawn didn't go to a waste. Especially when you saw how the man's eyes softened, a soft sigh escaping from him.

You hummed a little tune as you slipped the bread into a paper bag with a pair of tongs, straightening up as you hand it over, your fingers accidentally brushing against his for a mere second.

A fraction of a jolt raced down your fingertips to your elbow, but you retracted your hand just as quickly. 

If he noticed, he didn't say anything.

"Have a good one!" 

And like usual, his behaviour was still reserved, but you swore as you tended to another customer, you heard a quiet "goodbye" before the door chimed close.