Work Text:
One of the very, very few perks to Chisame’s job was that she didn’t have to work in an office. The pay was awful, the customers mind-bendingly stupid, and their problems tedious in the extreme, but at least she didn’t have to troubleshoot their programs in an cubicle surrounded by salarymen. Instead, she could go to her favorite teahouse, order something from the pretty green-haired girl behind the counter, and sit and work out their problems in peace.
This particular genius had managed to code something that seemed more error than workable program. Taking off her glasses, she massaged the bridge of her nose, wondering how anyone could be so stupid.
"Oh!" she heard in a familiar, soft voice. A tall, long haired girl slipped into the seat opposite her. "You are Chiu," the girl said, smiling widely.
Chisame froze for a moment, before shoving the glasses back on her face. "I don't know what you are talking about," she muttered, glaring down at her laptop and pointedly not meeting the other girl's gaze. "And I didn't say you could sit there." Goddamn otaku! Weren't they all suppose to be male shut-ins? Not cute girls who worked in teahouses.
The girl continued to sit there, smiling. "I thought that you looked familiar. I usually have a very good memory for faces. I was quite bothered that I could not place yours." She bowed her head. "My name is Chachamaru. I am a great fan of your website."
Chisame lifted her eyes to glare at the girl. "I told you, I don't know what you are talking about. My name is Chisame, and I don't have a website. Now, if you don't mind, I'm trying to work." Lowering her eyes again, she began to peck away at her keyboard, not actually writing anything but hoping that the girl would take a hint.
Chachamaru blinked, her smile fading. "Oh, I am sorry. I must have mistaken you for someone else,” she said, clearly unconvinced. She stood slowly, taking Chisame’s empty cup. "Please, allow me to get you a refill, to apologize for my behavior." Taking her noncommittal grunt as consent, Chachamaru took the cup with her back behind the bar.
As soon as she was gone, Chisame stopped pretending to type and rubbed at her temples. Great. She'd snapped at a pretty girl who made the best tea in the city. Who was apparently a fan of hers. Which probably meant that she was into girls, and possibly into her. Or at least the photoshopped, costumed, well-positioned version of her that existed only online and in the minds of her followers. Who, let's face it, didn't really have much in common with the real her.
For a moment, she thought about just telling the girl the truth, but...no. She'd worked too hard keeping that part of her life separate from her day-to-day existence. She'd never be able to enjoy her hobby if people knew who she really was. Besides, this girl didn't like her, she liked Chiu. No, she'd just have to find another teahouse. One with subpar tea and no cute girls, probably, but what could you do?
Chachamaru returned, tea in hand. Actually managing to muster a thanks this time, Chisame picked it up, taking a moment to breath in the steam before taking a sip. Dammit, she was going to miss this tea. Her own brewing attempts just tasted like hot leaf juice, and every other place nearby served overpriced swill. "It's very good," she said at last, after debating whether she should say anything else. "I’ve always liked the tea here.” She instantly cringed inside, hating how stupid and boring that sounded, but the girl smiled again.
Damn, she had a really nice smile.
“I was wondering…” the girl paused, clearly hesitating over her words. “I was wondering if you would allow me to take your picture.” Perhaps Chisame’s face gave away her feelings about that, because the girl hurried to clarify. “My mistress was thinking about taking pictures of some of our regular customers and framing them for decoration.” She retrieved a old-school Polaroid camera from a nearby table, as if for proof.
She should have said no. Chisame knew she should say no. Or perhaps not even have dignified it with a response, simply getting up and leaving. But…”Fine,” she said grumpily. She hated having anyone but her take her picture, and the thought of coming in every day to see her ugly face staring back at her sounded terrible. But she had already decided that she wouldn’t be coming back, so what difference did it make?
Besides, she wanted to see the girl smile again.
She did not disappoint, blasting the net idol with a smile that would have made her weak at the knees if she were standing. “Please, hold still,” she said happily, raising the camera. She snapped the picture before Chisame was anywhere near ready, pulling out the picture and waiting for it to dry.
“I wasn’t smiling,” Chisame complained, watching the photo develop with more anxiety than she had expected.
“I have seen plenty of photos of you smiling. Or rather, of Chiu smiling,” the girl corrects herself. “I believe I enjoy seeing your normal expression more.” Chachamaru examined the photo, apparently satisfied with it, before passing it to Chisame.
She took it, frowning. It was...not bad, actually. Maybe it was the dimmer lighting of the teahouse, but she didn’t look awful. Not like Chiu, not at all, but...not bad.
“You are a good photographer,” she said idly, still examining the picture.
“It is easy, when I have such a lovely subject,” she responded. Chisame turned her head quickly to stare. “Er, why don’t you sign it?” Chachamaru added in a rush. “In the corner, perhaps?”
Chisame continued to stare, before slowly turning back to the photo. “Pen,” she finally said. Chachamaru handed her one from her front pocket. Chisame scribbled for a moment, before standing and grabbing her laptop. “Thank you for the tea” she said shortly, before practically fleeing from the teahouse, mentally cursing herself all the way.
Chachamaru sank down into the vacant chair, disappointed. She had thought things were going rather well. But she must have scared her away. And no wonder! A net idol like her must have to deal with obnoxious fans who bothered them in public all the time.
She had gotten a photo at least. That was something, anyways. It might even be signed. Picking it off the table, Chachamaru looked at it again. And simply sat there in a daze, continuing to stare even as her cheeks grew red and Evangeline stormed out to demand what she thought she was doing.
There was indeed a signature there. And below that, a message that read, “For my favorite fan, Chachamaru, who make the best tea in the city. I’ll be back soon!”
Beneath that was a phone number.