Oikawa pushes through the sweaty crowds of people walking the streets, on his way to a certain neat little cafe that he’s particularly fond of, mostly because there’s air conditioning and the owner— a nice lady with short black hair and sunkissed skin whose real name is Hanni despite her insisting Oikawa call her Baba— doesn’t mind him being there in the slightest, even with his reused clothes and unruly hair. In fact, she gives him a free pastry whenever she can, much to Oikawa's confusion since he doesn't have anything to pay her back with.

Engines sputter in the streets and a plane can only barely be heard flying over head. As he opens the door a little bell jingles, signifying a new customer and Oikawa deeply inhales the sweet scent of baked pastries warm and fresh out of the oven plus coffee that warms the soul with hints of swiss vanilla and maple as the much cooler air washes over him, dulling the sparks of heat dancing on his skin. Oikawa glances down at his ever-present “shadow” before seating himself in a booth in the corner, he always feels like he’s intruding, ruining the atmosphere of this refreshing cafe with his dirty fingernails and ragged clothing.

There hadn’t been a day in the past weeks where Oikawa’s felt somewhat clean up until recently when he managed to find a public swimming pool, he almost cried tears of joy when he found the place and realized they had public showers and used them to clean himself and his clothes. The feel of clean water against his skin had been enough to keep him from noticing the quick and questioning glances in his direction.

Iwaizumi emerges from Oikawa's shadow and leans over from the other side of the booth, snapping his fingers in front of Oikawa's face to grab his attention. “Huh?”

“They thought you were some creep because of how long you've been aimlessly staring in their direction,” Iwa-chan jerks his head in the direction of a customer sitting elsewhere in the cafe shifting uncomfortably in their seat.

“O-oh,” Oikawa's face turns a little warm and his eyes dart elsewhere. “Do you think—” the sound of someone yelling interrupts Oikawa and his train of thought stops before it could even get started as a dryad slams the kitchen door open, stomping out furiously, the leaves sprouting atop her head turning red with anger.

Baba worriedly follows mere moments later, absentmindedly pushing back a lock of black hair as she calls after the worker, asking her to calm down, “I am so sick of that asshole thinking she can boss me around!” Yells the dryad.

Baba flinches at her tone, “I understand, but please calm down, I'm sure you two can come to an agreement.” Her honey brown eyes plead at the barista to not make a scene.

The dryad seems to understand the message and she visibly untenses a little, the leaves in her hair dulling down to a orangish-yellow, “I'm sorry Hanni-sensei but I can't deal with her anymore—” the dryad pulls off her apron and name tag, firmly setting them down on the empty table beside where she's standing, “I quit.” With that, the ex-barista turns around and walks out the door, leaving Baba standing there with here eyebrows knitted together deep with worry.

Oikawa purses his lips as the original shock ebbs away and conversation begins to return to the cafe, he's unsure what to say. “It was a long time coming but I thought I would've been able to find someone to replace her before it happened.” Baba sighs tiredly, speaking mostly to herself. Oikawa keeps silent, nothing he can really say to amend the situation, however, Baba looks over to him and her eyes brighten, “Oikawa-kun, I have a proposition for you, one that I think you'll like very much.”

Oikawa blinks in confusion, “what is it?” Although Oikawa still doesn't understand that people can be capable of doing kind things for nothing in return, Iwaizumi catches on from his seat across from Oikawa, she's going to offer him a job.

Oikawa's very anxious his first day on the job, considering he's never had a job before. In the morning he's quickly introduced to his co-workers and Baba’s familiar, a ginger cat that takes the form of a tall and lanky redhead with dark skin, who'll be training him. First the brunette is shown around the kitchen, bustling with workers baking sweet goods and making coffee for customers waiting. It's all a tad overwhelming and Oikawa is horribly worried he'll screw up his first chance to finally make money and stop living like a literal rat.

“So, this is how you operate the ovens, I'll get into recipes and things like that some other time, for now I'm only showing you the very basics since baking won't be your job, it's more like a just in case thing.” The red head rattles off instructions on how to use the oven and doesn't actually pay much attention to Oikawa, who's watching from behind the counter he's leaning on. Oikawa moves his arms, intending to shift his position only to elbow a cup of coffee right off to the table. Oikawa's heart stops and his eyes freeze on the back of his instructor, still talking about oven safety. Oikawa debates his options, he could not say anything and pretend like he had nothing to do with it or beg for forgiveness on his knees. Melting into the floor sounds like a great idea right now, he honestly wished he had the ability to do something like that like how Iwa-chan can.

Oikawa braces himself and finally looks down at the mess he's made only to see the eerie shadowy outline of a jagged hand sticking out from the shadows on the ground, holding up a perfectly fine cup of coffee. Oikawa quickly bends down to pick it up, “I owe you my life, Iwa-chan,” whispers Oikawa, the gratitude clear in his voice.

“Don't you already?” sounds Iwaizumi's distorted and unsettling voice from the ground.

“Sorry what?” Asks the dark skinned familiar.

“N-nothing nothing, just uh, telling myself to stop being so nervous. The familiar assures him he'll do fine, “most of the first week is just gonna be me showing you the ropes anyways, no way you can mess up just standing around and watching, right?”

Oikawa chuckles out words with playfulness that don't reach his eyes, “with my luck, I wouldn't be surprised.”

“Psh, no such thing as good luck or bad luck in this life, kid,” the familiar attaches weight to their next words in a certain way that makes it seem like there's a long story behind them, “only fate.” In that moment, something about the familiar’s amber eyes feel unsettling to him, like the remains of a much deeper past. Then, it disappears as quick as it came, “so,” they smile, “lets see how you use a coffee machine.”