[ His interlude to the bakery's retail area had been rather intentional. Sunday will admit as much to anyone who asks considering the rather thin guise of placing the pastries out onto the trays. While it's true they also needed to sell those while they could thanks to the holiday it seems they're for - he could've also waited a few more minutes rather than extending his time in the front to account for the recently iced pastries requiring a bit more care to make sure to not smudge his work. They're entirely too neat for that to not stand out if it happens.
And sure enough, once the tray is empty? To the back he goes looking completely unbothered over any looks sent his way like he'd intruded - since he had, though he wouldn't call it that. Their coworkers gathered around the window look at him expectantly, clearly expecting to hear Something from him, but he merely raises his eyebrows coolly. An answer and a dismissal both as some of the bakers roll their eyes and turn back to the window.
Whatever Alisaie hears when she finally returns to the backrooms of the bakery after the other teenager leaves, it won't be from him. That doesn't mean he doesn't have several thoughts as the wheels continue to turn in the back of his mind.
In the meantime, Sunday returns to that task he'd been enjoying by refilling the piping bag with some of the prepared icing as he looks at the next tray of heart pastries. The glaze they were first in seems to have dried nicely so back to piping it is, one carefully placed line or dot at a time as he forms yet another intricate pattern while he thinks, the majority of his focus there rather than in the kitchen around him. ]
[ After Josuke has departed and they've agreed to make plans after the completion of her shift that day, Alisaie would have very nearly gone back to see Sunday with a huff in her step. But as soon as Josuke leaves, customers enter and she's forced to put on her Customer Service Voice. It isn't just one customer in fact, there's several that stream through the doors looking for their heart-related pastries which leaves her plenty of time for her suspicion towards his intentions to quietly fester and stew about Sunday's proximity and why it had bothered her so much.
At least she doesn't have to handle the stream of customers alone. Their coworkers join her, quietly nudging and asking her questions that only result in her rolling her eyes and providing very little by way of clarity. Once the rush has died down she heads back through the door mostly intending to complete her task of moving the flour bags. But then she sees Sunday on his own quietly minding his own business - a stark contrast to what he had been doing earlier.
Impulsively she changes her mind and makes a beeline for him instead. Their coworkers mill around, absorbed in their other tasks so as not to make a scene she slides up to him with her own piping bag. ]
Do you have something to say? You were hovering earlier.
[ It's the first words that she's said to him since their time on the train. ]
[ A surprising amount of time passes before Alisaie appears once more in the back of the bakery away from the storefront. Their coworkers mostly disperse back to their tasks and chatter goes on around him, though Sunday keeps his focus on the work before him.
When she does return he notes her presence in the way a familiar resonance comes into focus, but he doesn't look up. Not even when she's suddenly there instead of heading back to the storeroom like he would've thought, though he pauses for just a second after finishing one piped line when she speaks before continuing onto the next one. ]
I was merely refilling the display before the usual rush.
[ Placidly, with the air of a man entirely unbothered since the majority of his focus is on the last part of this design. Or would be if his hand hadn't chosen that exact moment to cramp from requiring that even pressure to prevent uneven lines, icing abruptly flooding out of the bag, or other miscellaneous unfortunate incidents - not that he knows from experience or anything.
As he pauses to shake out his hand for a couple of seconds, it's then that he glances up to appraise her. ]
I cannot help that it happened to be when you had a visitor.
[ On the off chance he had not said anything, she would have happily stood there preparing icing bags with him in icy silence out of spite. Though Sunday tended to have that gravitas of a babysitter who used silence and an impassive expression to make their wards buckle under the pressure, Alisae's mettle had already been tested and come out of the fire made with stronger stuff.
Her eyes narrow a touch at the mild emphasis that he seems to put on the word "visitor" which, unsurprisingly, only furthers stir her ire. Thankfully instead of urging herself to do something impulsive she watches - with an air of smug satisfaction - his hand cramp.
Not wanting to cause a scene however, she gets to work, falling into a familiar rhythm. Even if the familiar rhythm involves her using a little more force than necessary to throw icing into the bag. And if some hot pink or red icing splatters on him? It would simply be an accident. ]
That wasn't on your list of responsibilities today. What happened to Kline? Were they not able to refill the displays?
[ The cramp takes a couple more seconds to fade, courtesy of this repetitive motion over and over. A sign he should probably take a break if it wasn't for there still being several trays to go, though it'll go faster with Alisaie helping. Assuming that she is, since Sunday watches her readying her own piping bag without any comment. Aside from arching one eyebrow momentarily at her question, since - ]
Right. Kline would've been a better interruption.
[ Or more likely to stay out there and continue talking while working on the displays, as Sunday's witnessed many times himself while working out front. Kline's a coworker he's fond of with or without the distractions involved... though they must be dealing with their own distraction somewhere in the bakery. As is Sunday since when some of the icing flings onto his apron, he brushes it off before getting back to work himself. ]
Besides, you already had company.
[ Out there with whoever it was that'd stopped by for one sense of it being unwelcome, but more than that: in general since they've returned and on overlapping shifts, so he's stayed quiet. ]
[ Despite being petty there is a fine line between exercising that feeling while also being a good employee. And it isn't as if Sunday owns this bakery. If that were the case she'd probably just be standing here. That decision however could change depending on how this entire conversation goes. ]
He would have because Kline at least would be well intentioned about it.
[ Kline is harmless in Alisie's eyes. Eager to help even if a little bit clumsy; but put him in front of a tray of cakes and his decoration skills are likely the best out of most of the staff here. But the biggest difference is that she has no quarrel with Kline unlike the man standing beside her trying to work a cramp out of his hand. ]
Josuke is a friend that I happened to reconnect with after that debacle on the train. [ The icing is slapped into the piping bag with a little more force than needed, little flecks escaping onto her apron and Sunday's. ] And why would someone stopping by prevent you from saying something?
[ So that's how it's going to be, is it? Sunday cannot say he's surprised - and her reactions to this or whatever else is lurking beneath it from what else they've not spoken of (as he strongly suspects) are justified. Still, the immediate assumption he'd had no good intentions stings a little even if he also logically understands why.
From her explanation he gets Josuke's name to go with a face he'd not seen before around the bakery and opts to store that information away for later. Better to focus on his task now that he's started another pattern on another pastry after eying the icing level in his own piping bag. Enough for a couple more pastries yet while Alisaie does whatever it is she's going to do after getting icing on them both.
Sunday means to ignore that, but his attempt fails in a matter of seconds when any sort of untidiness is something he's never managed to overlook. But before he can go about cleaning up part of his apron - again - Alisaie asks a question which feels... out of place.
So much so that Sunday looks up, not quite incredulously though a hint of it might be seen in his expression anyway when vague amusement helps it through. ]
At least one of you seemed to prefer to not be interrupted.
[ And if it wasn't Alisaie, well. Surely that narrows it down. ]
[ Unaware that this information could be potentially used later, Alisaie reacts in the way she normally would when faced with something that she doesn't understand. Confusion cuts through some of her ire, causing her face to scrunch up and her violent prep of the icing bag to pause. For a moment she can't help but bristle up, a little prickle of protectiveness stirring as if prepared to defend whatever Sunday or her colleagues might accuse Josuke of.
It would be ridiculous to accuse him of anything though. At least in the context of the interaction they'd just had. He'd been delivering a candygram and there isn't anything to be concerned of there. ]
What are you trying to imply? It wouldn't have been a problem if someone had interrupted.
[ Is she petty enough to say that she wouldn't have wanted to be interrupted by Sunday specifically? Certainly. But even if he had, it wouldn't have been an issue, that much is the truth. They had been speaking about candygrams and making plans to see one another - neither of those things were particularly private. ]
[ He'd meant for that to be a small pause in between drawing perfect icing lines, but now Sunday stops entirely to peer at Alisaie more intently.
It's not asked as sharply as her earlier questions - and as Sunday would've recognized as well deserved even without the guilt that's clouded over him ever since he walked out of the train car and left her behind. It could be a mere extension of the level of guilt he always tends to feel for so many things, but this is specific. Something deserved for actions for which he has no one to blame but himself, for here and before it.
Back in the present, however, her confusion seems quite genuine. And if that's the case, no wonder what was said wasn't really heard. ]
I'd call it an observation over implying anything.
[ But she's right that there is an implication in there and one she's apparently not seeing, even if he'd meant it as something far less severe than Alisaie seems to be taking this conversation. ]
Your friend is quite fond of you.
[ His actual point in a deliberate choice of words - and one he's careful to say quite neutrally. ]
[ If it makes him feel any better, he hadn't been the only one to walk away and leave her in a train car alone that trip. And to make matters worse both times had been after emotionally charged situations that have long since stayed with her after the fact. She had spoken about some her frustrations and experiences with Alphinaud of course, but to say that she had laid bygones to rest would be a gross understatement.
That was the downside to being to being passionate about things. It was just as difficult to forgive.
But clearly they weren't speaking about the same thing anymore. Or if they had she had seemed to have lost the thread somewhere along the way. Because why did it sound like they were suddenly speaking about Josuke's intentions? He had obviously been here to deliver a candygram sent by Jack who she considered a dear friend. There was nothing more to it than that. Confusion overtakes her expression, the bristle of her defensiveness lowering for just a moment as she almost laughs - ]
Fond? Whatever gave you that impression? [ Why did this suddenly feel akin to a time when she had teased Alphinaud about his endless swarm of fan club members? ] That was our third meeting. Second if you only count pleasant interactions.
I'm not so sure the number of interactions counts as much for everything else.
[ Neither does any pleasantries, really, when while that might define an initial meeting those that fall outside of whatever scale is being used for pleasant can add just as much to shaping a relationship overall. Experience has taught him that much.
Sunday's not going to say as much to Alisaie now when her confusion is indicator enough that they are, in fact, speaking on two entirely different wavelengths. It's tempting to put down the piping bag while they talk, but maybe that would suggest this is far more serious than it actually is. Besides that, there's no guarantee she won't simply turn and walk away any second now.
So, he raises an eyebrow. ]
I was not saying the fondness is a negative, either. That would only be the case if it was something you considered unwelcome. [ A short pause while Sunday considers this and everything else again and finds that, just maybe, he should've asked another question. ] What is it that doesn't give you that impression?
[ The irony here of course is that what Sunday is saying is in some ways, echoes of conversations she's had with Alphinaud. Sometimes it is a matter of her pointing out that such and such likes him, or wondering why he's suddenly so enamoured with someone he's only had one class with.
It hadn't, and still doesn't, occur to her that this is something that could happen to her. Nor is she connecting the dots and why Sunday's raised eyebrow only seems to incite a prickle of annoyance and heat to her cheeks. There's nothing to stop the rise of an incredulous tone beginning to rise in her voice. ]
Friends are fond of one another. Josuke and I are friends.
[ Finally she lets out a loud huff, putting the piping back on the counter in front of them. ]
I find myself confused because I cannot tell if you are trying to provoke me on purpose.
[ None of that feels exactly like an answer to what he's asking even as Alisaie responds with one thought first, then another, and then puts her piping bag down with the suggestion of frustration. Something he'd noticed was increasing without needing to 'listen' any other way; they've worked together long enough that Sunday knows the glimpses of her moods. A few huge baking tasks were certainly enough to create a bond from going through them. ]
Well, as long as it's mutual fondness, then.
[ Though this Sunday says with considerable amusement even as it answers nothing, but maybe that's all there is to it. It doesn't matter in the bigger picture, anyway, considering there's a good chance she might have to go through this conversation with any of the other bakery staff who'd stayed at the window before and after he'd made his own observations.
He's about to warn her about that being likely, but then it's Sunday's turn to be entirely confused by what she says when it catches him completely off-guard. ]
And why is it that you think I would be provoking you?
[ It's true he'd meant to tease her, but the way she's put it suggests something else. Though - there's an answer for why and one he has a feeling will be said with a mild sense of dread to it, and really: if it is what Alisaie will say next, then that's no one's fault but his own. ]
[ Considering where they are and that they are still on the clock, Alisaie doesn't have the luxury of time to untangle why it bothers her so much when Sunday says what he does about mutual fondness. But perhaps she doesn't have to untangle or make sense of it all since she understands that it irritates her. ]
Stop saying it like that!
[ He hadn't, in fact put emphasis on anything he'd said, but it hardly matters. That's what it feels like with the amused lilt that she can pick out in his voice. Which then, in her mind, justifies the snappiness she retorts with. Of course, it is by no means right. But with her patience seemingly having worn thin, she doesn't seem to care whether she is truly right or wrong in this instance as she tosses the piping bag down. ]
Because you're being coy and evasive and it is irritating!
[ The pitch of her voice would have carried to other parts of the bakery had it not been for the fact that the machines were running. It is a small blessing then that her outburst is disguised behind noise and no one else is subject to what is essentially the equivalent of a teenager's outburst. ]
You're ridiculous. Don't speak to me for the rest of the shift.
[ Coy and evasive - those aren't the adjectives he would've chosen for what he's said. Or, well, they wouldn't be after he'd opted to get to the actual point. That much Sunday can recognize would be less than ideal. The same for being irritating, while he's being honest with himself.
It doesn't, however, explain that it feels like something is still missing here.
In the end, Alisaie doesn't say what pulled at the edges of his mind as that possibility. But - the response is still forceful enough to make the same point when nothing further follows but the instruction ("instruction") to stop speaking. Sunday looks at her for a long moment impassively and then, telling himself it's only his own stubborn streak surfacing and not anything else, looks back at the tray before them. The pattern he'd started and half-finished is dry now so it'll take some added effort to make that less obvious on the finished product.
A task he'll begin on with nothing else to do. And true to that request, he says nothing. Only the kitchen's constant background noise will fill in the silence as he gets back to work. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
argumentiste) wrote2025-06-29 03:27 pm
— at the bakery in february
And sure enough, once the tray is empty? To the back he goes looking completely unbothered over any looks sent his way like he'd intruded - since he had, though he wouldn't call it that. Their coworkers gathered around the window look at him expectantly, clearly expecting to hear Something from him, but he merely raises his eyebrows coolly. An answer and a dismissal both as some of the bakers roll their eyes and turn back to the window.
Whatever Alisaie hears when she finally returns to the backrooms of the bakery after the other teenager leaves, it won't be from him. That doesn't mean he doesn't have several thoughts as the wheels continue to turn in the back of his mind.
In the meantime, Sunday returns to that task he'd been enjoying by refilling the piping bag with some of the prepared icing as he looks at the next tray of heart pastries. The glaze they were first in seems to have dried nicely so back to piping it is, one carefully placed line or dot at a time as he forms yet another intricate pattern while he thinks, the majority of his focus there rather than in the kitchen around him. ]
no subject
At least she doesn't have to handle the stream of customers alone. Their coworkers join her, quietly nudging and asking her questions that only result in her rolling her eyes and providing very little by way of clarity. Once the rush has died down she heads back through the door mostly intending to complete her task of moving the flour bags. But then she sees Sunday on his own quietly minding his own business - a stark contrast to what he had been doing earlier.
Impulsively she changes her mind and makes a beeline for him instead. Their coworkers mill around, absorbed in their other tasks so as not to make a scene she slides up to him with her own piping bag. ]
Do you have something to say? You were hovering earlier.
[ It's the first words that she's said to him since their time on the train. ]
no subject
When she does return he notes her presence in the way a familiar resonance comes into focus, but he doesn't look up. Not even when she's suddenly there instead of heading back to the storeroom like he would've thought, though he pauses for just a second after finishing one piped line when she speaks before continuing onto the next one. ]
I was merely refilling the display before the usual rush.
[ Placidly, with the air of a man entirely unbothered since the majority of his focus is on the last part of this design. Or would be if his hand hadn't chosen that exact moment to cramp from requiring that even pressure to prevent uneven lines, icing abruptly flooding out of the bag, or other miscellaneous unfortunate incidents - not that he knows from experience or anything.
As he pauses to shake out his hand for a couple of seconds, it's then that he glances up to appraise her. ]
I cannot help that it happened to be when you had a visitor.
[ "visitor" ]
no subject
Her eyes narrow a touch at the mild emphasis that he seems to put on the word "visitor" which, unsurprisingly, only furthers stir her ire. Thankfully instead of urging herself to do something impulsive she watches - with an air of smug satisfaction - his hand cramp.
Not wanting to cause a scene however, she gets to work, falling into a familiar rhythm. Even if the familiar rhythm involves her using a little more force than necessary to throw icing into the bag. And if some hot pink or red icing splatters on him? It would simply be an accident. ]
That wasn't on your list of responsibilities today. What happened to Kline? Were they not able to refill the displays?
no subject
Right. Kline would've been a better interruption.
[ Or more likely to stay out there and continue talking while working on the displays, as Sunday's witnessed many times himself while working out front. Kline's a coworker he's fond of with or without the distractions involved... though they must be dealing with their own distraction somewhere in the bakery. As is Sunday since when some of the icing flings onto his apron, he brushes it off before getting back to work himself. ]
Besides, you already had company.
[ Out there with whoever it was that'd stopped by for one sense of it being unwelcome, but more than that: in general since they've returned and on overlapping shifts, so he's stayed quiet. ]
no subject
He would have because Kline at least would be well intentioned about it.
[ Kline is harmless in Alisie's eyes. Eager to help even if a little bit clumsy; but put him in front of a tray of cakes and his decoration skills are likely the best out of most of the staff here. But the biggest difference is that she has no quarrel with Kline unlike the man standing beside her trying to work a cramp out of his hand. ]
Josuke is a friend that I happened to reconnect with after that debacle on the train. [ The icing is slapped into the piping bag with a little more force than needed, little flecks escaping onto her apron and Sunday's. ] And why would someone stopping by prevent you from saying something?
no subject
From her explanation he gets Josuke's name to go with a face he'd not seen before around the bakery and opts to store that information away for later. Better to focus on his task now that he's started another pattern on another pastry after eying the icing level in his own piping bag. Enough for a couple more pastries yet while Alisaie does whatever it is she's going to do after getting icing on them both.
Sunday means to ignore that, but his attempt fails in a matter of seconds when any sort of untidiness is something he's never managed to overlook. But before he can go about cleaning up part of his apron - again - Alisaie asks a question which feels... out of place.
So much so that Sunday looks up, not quite incredulously though a hint of it might be seen in his expression anyway when vague amusement helps it through. ]
At least one of you seemed to prefer to not be interrupted.
[ And if it wasn't Alisaie, well. Surely that narrows it down. ]
no subject
It would be ridiculous to accuse him of anything though. At least in the context of the interaction they'd just had. He'd been delivering a candygram and there isn't anything to be concerned of there. ]
What are you trying to imply? It wouldn't have been a problem if someone had interrupted.
[ Is she petty enough to say that she wouldn't have wanted to be interrupted by Sunday specifically? Certainly. But even if he had, it wouldn't have been an issue, that much is the truth. They had been speaking about candygrams and making plans to see one another - neither of those things were particularly private. ]
no subject
It's not asked as sharply as her earlier questions - and as Sunday would've recognized as well deserved even without the guilt that's clouded over him ever since he walked out of the train car and left her behind. It could be a mere extension of the level of guilt he always tends to feel for so many things, but this is specific. Something deserved for actions for which he has no one to blame but himself, for here and before it.
Back in the present, however, her confusion seems quite genuine. And if that's the case, no wonder what was said wasn't really heard. ]
I'd call it an observation over implying anything.
[ But she's right that there is an implication in there and one she's apparently not seeing, even if he'd meant it as something far less severe than Alisaie seems to be taking this conversation. ]
Your friend is quite fond of you.
[ His actual point in a deliberate choice of words - and one he's careful to say quite neutrally. ]
no subject
That was the downside to being to being passionate about things. It was just as difficult to forgive.
But clearly they weren't speaking about the same thing anymore. Or if they had she had seemed to have lost the thread somewhere along the way. Because why did it sound like they were suddenly speaking about Josuke's intentions? He had obviously been here to deliver a candygram sent by Jack who she considered a dear friend. There was nothing more to it than that. Confusion overtakes her expression, the bristle of her defensiveness lowering for just a moment as she almost laughs - ]
Fond? Whatever gave you that impression? [ Why did this suddenly feel akin to a time when she had teased Alphinaud about his endless swarm of fan club members? ] That was our third meeting. Second if you only count pleasant interactions.
no subject
[ Neither does any pleasantries, really, when while that might define an initial meeting those that fall outside of whatever scale is being used for pleasant can add just as much to shaping a relationship overall. Experience has taught him that much.
Sunday's not going to say as much to Alisaie now when her confusion is indicator enough that they are, in fact, speaking on two entirely different wavelengths. It's tempting to put down the piping bag while they talk, but maybe that would suggest this is far more serious than it actually is. Besides that, there's no guarantee she won't simply turn and walk away any second now.
So, he raises an eyebrow. ]
I was not saying the fondness is a negative, either. That would only be the case if it was something you considered unwelcome. [ A short pause while Sunday considers this and everything else again and finds that, just maybe, he should've asked another question. ] What is it that doesn't give you that impression?
no subject
[ The irony here of course is that what Sunday is saying is in some ways, echoes of conversations she's had with Alphinaud. Sometimes it is a matter of her pointing out that such and such likes him, or wondering why he's suddenly so enamoured with someone he's only had one class with.
It hadn't, and still doesn't, occur to her that this is something that could happen to her. Nor is she connecting the dots and why Sunday's raised eyebrow only seems to incite a prickle of annoyance and heat to her cheeks. There's nothing to stop the rise of an incredulous tone beginning to rise in her voice. ]
Friends are fond of one another. Josuke and I are friends.
[ Finally she lets out a loud huff, putting the piping back on the counter in front of them. ]
I find myself confused because I cannot tell if you are trying to provoke me on purpose.
no subject
Well, as long as it's mutual fondness, then.
[ Though this Sunday says with considerable amusement even as it answers nothing, but maybe that's all there is to it. It doesn't matter in the bigger picture, anyway, considering there's a good chance she might have to go through this conversation with any of the other bakery staff who'd stayed at the window before and after he'd made his own observations.
He's about to warn her about that being likely, but then it's Sunday's turn to be entirely confused by what she says when it catches him completely off-guard. ]
And why is it that you think I would be provoking you?
[ It's true he'd meant to tease her, but the way she's put it suggests something else. Though - there's an answer for why and one he has a feeling will be said with a mild sense of dread to it, and really: if it is what Alisaie will say next, then that's no one's fault but his own. ]
🎀🥺 wrap?
Stop saying it like that!
[ He hadn't, in fact put emphasis on anything he'd said, but it hardly matters. That's what it feels like with the amused lilt that she can pick out in his voice. Which then, in her mind, justifies the snappiness she retorts with. Of course, it is by no means right. But with her patience seemingly having worn thin, she doesn't seem to care whether she is truly right or wrong in this instance as she tosses the piping bag down. ]
Because you're being coy and evasive and it is irritating!
[ The pitch of her voice would have carried to other parts of the bakery had it not been for the fact that the machines were running. It is a small blessing then that her outburst is disguised behind noise and no one else is subject to what is essentially the equivalent of a teenager's outburst. ]
You're ridiculous. Don't speak to me for the rest of the shift.
🎀
It doesn't, however, explain that it feels like something is still missing here.
In the end, Alisaie doesn't say what pulled at the edges of his mind as that possibility. But - the response is still forceful enough to make the same point when nothing further follows but the instruction ("instruction") to stop speaking. Sunday looks at her for a long moment impassively and then, telling himself it's only his own stubborn streak surfacing and not anything else, looks back at the tray before them. The pattern he'd started and half-finished is dry now so it'll take some added effort to make that less obvious on the finished product.
A task he'll begin on with nothing else to do. And true to that request, he says nothing. Only the kitchen's constant background noise will fill in the silence as he gets back to work. ]