The look Akira will recieve is equal parts tired teacher and fed-up parent—a combination only Maruki could truly master. “Okay,” he said flatly, already feeling his patience slipping through his fingers like sand.
They reached the front of a small coffee shop, and Maruki pushed the door open with the weight of a man walking into another cognitive battle. The cozy ambiance greeted them warmly, but it did little to quell the simmering exasperation bubbling just beneath his polite smile.
“Keep this attitude up,” he said as they shuffled inside, his tone calm but dripping with warning, “and you will pay for your own breakfast, son.”
Maruki matched the grin—sharp, knowing, and just smug enough to hopefully give Akira pause. “I know exactly what you’re doing,” he replied, his voice so eerily pleasant that it had to be a trap. “But do go on. Please. Tell the nice barista how science-y cognition is when you order your plain black coffee, since that’s all your student budget can afford.”
no subject
They reached the front of a small coffee shop, and Maruki pushed the door open with the weight of a man walking into another cognitive battle. The cozy ambiance greeted them warmly, but it did little to quell the simmering exasperation bubbling just beneath his polite smile.
“Keep this attitude up,” he said as they shuffled inside, his tone calm but dripping with warning, “and you will pay for your own breakfast, son.”
Maruki matched the grin—sharp, knowing, and just smug enough to hopefully give Akira pause. “I know exactly what you’re doing,” he replied, his voice so eerily pleasant that it had to be a trap. “But do go on. Please. Tell the nice barista how science-y cognition is when you order your plain black coffee, since that’s all your student budget can afford.”