Monotonous | Nanami Kento x Reader

12 | Kento | Shocking News

Kento hated overtime.

Yet he found himself stuck for nearly an hour extra at his office building. He glanced down at his watch, impatient as he was late. As Fumihiko rattled on and the coworker to his left, whom he hadn't bothered to learn his name, typed away, the hour hand landed on 7.

The bakery would've been closed by now. 

And Y/N would've left.

It was only natural for Kento to be in a bad mood, not that his coworkers could notice as they peered over his shoulder. 

"Did you fix it?" Another annoying voice repeated for the umpteeth time.

"No. Stop hovering over me. Your shadow is covering the screen." Kento typed away on his keyboard, tired yet sharp eyes scanning for where the issue stemmed from.

The eyes burning into his back didn't distract him from his work, and as soon as he found the root of the problem, he pointed it out, not bothering to re-enter the input right. Fumihiko protested as the blond man started to walk out without a glance back. "Hey man, we can't leave this until tomorrow--"

"You can't leave this until tomorrow." Kento corrected. "I found and isolated the error, so now you fix it." 

The evening sky was nearing sunset as he finally left work. He's been late before, overtime forced onto him, but never has he been so late that the bakery closed by the time he arrived. 

Kento knew the closing hours, but his feet still carried him to the quaint shop. 

His hands were shoved into his pockets and he peered through the clear glass, the orange and yellow colours of the sun down reflected off of it. His own reflection looked back at him as he was focused on the cashier counter, imagining a familiar H/C haired woman that normally stood behind there. 

Just then, he noticed a figure behind him in the glass who was sitting on a park bench. 

It was the bakery shop owner, Kento recalled from that morning. 

He shuffled around to face the owner. The blank stare in his eye proved that he was lost in thought, even as Kento walked over to him, taking a seat beside him. The few passerby's were blurs, the after-work rush having calmed down.

Once Kenshi realized someone was next to him, he recognized the man immediately. If not from that morning, then from all the other times he visited the bakery.

"You're a regular here." Kenshi said more like a statement. Although he seemed cold, he did have the heart to remember both his workers and the usual customers. After a moment, he sighed, tilting his head back up to face the bakery. A heavy silence loomed over the two, one that Kento did not find the need to break because the owner did it first.

"I've seen you talking with Y/N more often." The dark haired man started off by saying. His tone a far cry from the stern man that morning. It was almost like he lacked the energy to be cold anymore. "You know her well?"

"No." But I wish I did.

Kenshi zoned out, not looking in Kento's direction, but rather still at the bakery glass. "What's holding you back?"

"From what?"

"Knowing her better."

What was stopping him? Was it him trying to keep himself detached from others? Was it his job? Or perhaps even his background a sorcerer. He could see things no one else couldn't, like those harmless fly-heads in the distance fluttering around an alley. 

Kento didn't answer that, instead giving his own question. "Why are you asking that?"

"The regrets of an old man." 

A comfortable silence reigned once more. But the older man had something on his mind, thoughts he was mulling over.

He gave the blonde man a deep look, recalling how young Kento's demeanor almost seemed to be like his old self. Stern, cold, at least, that was what he could gauged from that neutral, almost frown on his face. But Kenshi had seen from the sidelines how soft his eyes went in the evenings, only when Y/N was manning the counter.

It almost reminded him of what he lost. Painful memories having replaced a happy family.

"There are other bakeries out there." He spoke up, sighing. His voice reeked of the same exhaustion that laced his bones and Kento's mind. "You should go there instead."

"I prefer this one." Kento said bluntly.

Kenshi paused, an imboding pause that revealed nothing good. A slight bit of hesitation before his next words like the calm before the storm.

Kento did not like where this was heading.

"I'm selling this shop." 

That was not what he was expecting, but his shock was well hidden. "When?" Kento's eyes narrowed as he was pulled further into this conversation.

"The deal's already been finalized." Kenshi could tell that Kento was not happy with that news. There was no getting around it, though. "In a few months, they're going to tear it down and completely re-renovate it, from what I've heard." 

"And your employees?" The first thing that popped into Kento's mind wasn't the imminent discontinuation of his favourite bread, but rather Y/N, and her livelihood as a baker.

He could tell she was passionate about baking, and sure she could always get another job, but something told him that she didn't like change. Funny. It was the one thing he longed for while she dreaded it.

Kenshi shook his head. "I'll tell them soon. Do me a favor and don't tell anyone. Not Y/N. I'll tell them all when it's time."

"Then why'd you tell me?" Kento retorted with his own question.

The older man finally peeled his eyes away from the bakery, now looking into Kento's brown ones. He debated whether or not to tell the truth, but he was too tired to think of a convincing lie. 

"You remind me of myself."

Kento froze, his fingers curling on his lap. The other man's voice was filled with regret and shame, and he didn't know how to react. 

"Don't make the same mistakes I did. Reach out to her like I should've." 

The advice left a gurgling feeling in Kento's gut. It conjured an image into his mind, especially after hearing the word her. There was only one 'her' he thought of that Kenshi could possibly be talking about.

Reach out to her? 

It sounded childish, naive even, to Kento. But as he saw the old man's demeanor and sunken shape, he realized that while he, himself, had that option, Kenshi no longer did. And that regret haunted him.

It wasn't a phase Kento could help him with through any means. It was a regret the bakery shop owner would have to deal with on his own.

Kenshi was still staring off at the bakery, but his melancholy was now laced with a bittersweet relief and hope, that his words would at least help someone else. He had many regrets. Especially with how he went about with other people. He didn't mean to snap at his employees. But the intention doesn't matter to the other person when it still cuts. After talking with Kento, he felt oddly better. 

It was an enlightening conversation, short but deep. Not through information like backstory, but rather through emotions. 

Kento didn't respond to his last words. Instead, he murmured, "Don't stay out too late." And he stood up, bode the man farewell, and walked off.

The way Kenshi had spoken to him, even though it wasn't by name, it was like he knew what he felt about Y/N. That undeterminable pull and itch to go see her, feelings he couldn't put into words because it was one he didn't feel before, one he thought he'd never felt.

As he walked down the street, he passed a happy couple laughing and smiling by an ice cream truck, having late-night ice cream, and imagined that it was him and someone else. 

Someone with H/C hair.

He shook his head weakly to clear those thoughts that randomly popped into his head, but it didn't entirely fade.

And for some strange reason, he didn't mind it.

Not at all.