Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was another day in the bakery. The smell of fresh bread and chocolate chip cookies wafted through the walls of the small building. The sun shone perfectly through the large beautiful windows and the sound of the ovens running and the coffee maker brewing gently hummed in the background.

Everything seemed perfect in the North Star Bakery, so long as I ignored just how miserable and tired I was.

You would think that owning a bakery would be all sunshine and rainbows, but it really wasn’t the case.

After baking so many chocolate chip cookies and chocolate muffins and chocolate croissants, I lost all affection for chocolate (and I was a self proclaimed choc-o-holic!). I would simultaneously enjoy the heat the ovens gave off whenever I had to take out a rack of pastry yet dread the moist, warm steam that came out of the dishwasher, completely ignoring that both gave off the same effect. The constant upkeep of dishes was gross and disgusting and every night I wished I could take a nice cold shower to rid myself of the filthy feeling that penetrated into my skin but if my water bill got too high I wouldn’t have enough money to buy body wash or a new loofah.

Not to mention cranky customers that demand I make a fresh batch of bread or croissants despite the fact that the ones I have out are just as fresh as the ones behind me that I’m actively wrapping up for delivery. Or the ones that complain I don't have a certain item in stock or available to order, not able to comprehend the concept of ‘seasonal’ inventory.

Of course I don't have pumpkin pie or pecan pie available right now, it's fucking May! No sir, I don't have the marionberry cheesecake in stock. Why? Because marionberries are only in season from May to August and it's goddamn December! My apologies ma’am, but since the prices of peppermint rise after January, no I don’t fucking have peppermint bark in.

Or worse! The customers who expect a whole ass cake with all of their specific customizations beyond simple writing done in two hours. I'm sorry, but how in the world am I supposed to make a cake with no soy, no dairy, no seed oils, that is also sugar free and gluten free in two hours? That's how long it will take to find the ingredients and bake the damn thing! Never mind how long it'll take to figure out a frosting that'll work for such a thing!

Needless to say, owning and operating a bakery wasn't as much of a dream as I thought it would be when I first bought the property. The undercrust was a more pleasurable place then too. And yeah sure, I enjoyed experimenting with flavors and textures here and there but everything else was so exhausting that by the end of the day I didn’t really feel up to any experimentation.

But there was one thing that I felt made all my suffering and labor worth it.

Ko. Truth be told, I don't know much about her, just that she was a huge blue raizo with a strong punk aesthetic that came in every Thursday to order a black coffee with 4 cream and a blackberry almond danish.

She was amazing. Whenever someone came in and asked for something ridiculous the raizo would loudly shame them for their stupidity and suggest they get their head out of their ass and join the rest of them in the real world. 9 times out of10 it worked, and that one other time usually resulted in the customer getting tossed out on their ass by Ko herself.

Ko was my savior. She was like an angel sent from heaven, just as beautiful as one too. The little tusks that would poke out of her mouth really just highlighted that her smiles were stupidly cute. Her confident attitude that would sometimes get her into trouble made my heart swell. Her huge muscles were just perfect for me to stare at while she wasn’t looking. I did that last one a lot.

Okay yeah, I had a bit of a crush on her. No big deal. There was no way it was ever going to happen. While I’m pretty sure she’s into girls, I doubt she’d like me specifically. If I ever had the guts to ask her out I’d probably get rejected anyway, so why try to rush things?

And yeah, sure, she did have a bit of a violent streak but it was only with the red belts and other douchebags that had infected the undercrust. So it wasn’t actually a red flag, more like a red handkerchief.

I always looked forward to her visits, to hear of whatever shenanigans she got up to. Lots of elevator shafts but they sounded pretty effective so who was I to judge. Sometimes she would bring her mom? Stepmother? I wasn't really sure who she was to Ko but the raizo would occasionally bring along a kind looking laika by the name of Mrs.Ume.

Mrs. Ume never ordered coffee, said it gave her the jitters, instead choosing the peach green tea and having a croissant, a side of jam and butter, and a knife to make a croissant sandwich.

Together they would sit and chit-chat while drinking coffee and tea, occasionally dragging me into the conversation when the bakery was slow. Sometimes Ko would invite me to a concert, and about 50% of the time I’d join her,

Things were nice. Not perfect, not spectacular, not anything particularly noteworthy, but nice. I loved seeing Ko and Mrs.Ume come in and I looked forward to serving them and I enjoyed how they made my mornings just a little bit more bearable.

But like all things, they must come to an end.

I was reading a bit of my morning paper when I saw the article. An explosion took out the entire third floor of a nearby apartment building, leaving only devastation in its wake. With 16 dead, 28 injured, it was the most devastating “gas leak” the undercrust had ever witnessed.

I rolled my eyes at the supposed “gas leak”. Shit like this didn't happen for no reason. One of those redbelt fucks must've destroyed it. Why? No clue. I was sure Ko was going to go ballistic when she learned about this. She's always been far braver than me, willing to go out in the line of fire to protect people. I prefer keeping my bakery a bit of a safe haven where those that need it can rest.

I turned the page back to the obituaries, only to see the name Sabrina Ume on the very top.

I froze. I felt my blood turn to ice in my veins, the sudden chill rocketting through my body, leaving me frozen in place, gripping the newspaper like a lifeline. No. No, how could this be? Mrs. Ume couldn't be dead. There was no way she was-

I couldn't breathe. I went back to looking through the obituaries. Scanned every line, every column, every row. Once, twice, five times in a desperate attempt to make sure one name wasn't on the list.

Ko.

I didn't have a last name, just the first, but that had to amount to something, right?

Right?

Then I saw it.

Kokoro Fujioka.

Ko must’ve been a nick-name, one she preferred to go by, and there were plenty of step-parent/step-children that didn't share last names.

My heart felt like it was shattering. I really liked Ko. I really really liked her. I just wanted more time with her. I wanted to give Ko her typical coffee and danish before chit-chatting about the general state of the undercrust. I wanted to ask her about what inspired her to get those thunder cloud tattoos on her shoulders. Fuck, I wanted to actually ask her out and see her reaction. It wouldn’t have mattered if she said yes or no, because at least then she would’ve been alive.

I sat in my shitty little chair in my crappy apartment, clutching the newspaper in my hands, sobbing over what once was, and what will never be.

I grew around the grief. I didn’t overcome it nor did it become smaller over time. I just grew around it, like how a tree's roots will grow over boulders and bodies in the soil.

I went to their wakes. I didn't- I couldn’t speak to anyone at Ko's funeral but I was able to speak to Mr. Ume at Mrs. Ume’s funeral and tell him how his wife was just a beautiful, little, bright spot in my life. He seemed like he was touched, and thanked me for kind words.

A couple of changes were made to the menu. I made Mrs. Ume's little butter and jam croissant sandwich a staple of the bakery’s, called the Ume Breakfast Sandwich. I also made a new dessert in Ko's honor. A cream cheese, blackberry, and almond danish, with the dough dyed bright blue.

It had been roughly a year since their death. I missed them. God I missed them. Every month I would go to their graves and just sit and talk to them. Tell them about how my day has been and how I finally started enforcing that “We Reserve The Right To Refuse Service” sign I have stuck to the wall. How after they died, I refused to take anyone’s crap anymore. I wanted to exemplify their kindness and confidence, make sure their memory wouldn’t fade too quickly from this shitty neighborhood.

Today though, I was getting started on clean up after the morning rush and preparing for the noon rush when the doorbell jingled.

I looked up from the pan I was washing only to see… Ko.

Ko. Kokoro Fujioka. My Ko. The Ko I had a crush on and died in a Redbelt attack. The Ko that I talked to on the third Thursday of every month at her grave.

There she was. Standing there right as rain, looking far better than she did before she died. There was a healthy layer of fat on her muscles and her skin and hair had a glow to it that it didn't before (or maybe it was just how I saw it because of how long it had been). There was a bright smile on her face, showing off her dimples as she looked down to talk to the other person that came in with her.

It wasn’t a laika, which thankfully discredited my theory that this was all a hallucination from a sudden gas leak. Instead, there was a solari man with pink skin and incandescent hair that nearly singed the top of my carefully constructed door frame. The dude had a bit of a “cool” guy aura to him that simultaneously made him way cooler and made him seem like such a loser.

I just stood there, still at the sink, feeling the water burn my skin. I wasn't quite sure if what I was seeing was real. Maybe this is just a case of mistaken identity. Surely there were a decent handful of buff, punk, blue raizo women with lightning cloud tattoos over their shoulders. There was no possible way this was my Ko.

“Hey there Sugar Tits! How’s it been since I ditched town?” Never mind. Only one person was allowed to call me that and that was Ko. That fucking bitch! How dare she just-

“KO!” I yelled, grabbing a bucket of sanitizer that I usually used to wash the prep tables with and marched over to the counter.

Oh she was going to rue the day she faked her death. The way she left me without saying a word. The way she just fucking forgot me like I was yesterdays trash?!

Ko’s eyes lit up for a moment before scrunching up in confusion. Seconds later, the raizo was made to be squeaky clean, mostly because she was covered head to toe in sanitizer.

She just stared at me dumbfounded, as if she couldn’t understand why this had happened to her. The solari standing next to her was laughing his ass off. Heh, good thing that someone found this whole ordeal amusing.

“Where do you get the audacity to show up like this? What in god’s name made you think you could just waltz up in here and act like everything’s fine when you have been presumed dead for a year!” I shouted at her, gathering the attention of all the stragglers from the morning rush.

“What do you mean dead? I’ve been alive this whole time.” Ko said incredulously. The solari next to her put his hands to his face in a blatant attempt to hide his giggles and grin. I paid him no mind.

“The last time I saw you was the week before that terrible explosion. I read the paper only to see that Mrs. Ume is dead and obviously that meant that her daughter would be too because you lived in the same apartment and now you’re back.” I said, my voice cracking as I felt the building headache from behind my forehead.

“Po, sugar, I’m not related to Mrs. Ume.”

“I know that but you’re her step-daughter or whatever. Why are we focusing on that, you’re back! From the damn grave!” I said as I bit my tongue, slamming my hands on the counter for emphasis.

“Polaris, I’m not related to Mrs. Ume in any way shape or form. She was just a family friend.” I stared at her blankly.

“Ko. What’s your full name?” God this was going to be so fucking embarrasing. Crying at some stranger's grave. Going to that stranger's funeral! Just kill me now.

“Ko Tetsutora. Nothing more, nothing less. Why do you as-” realization dawned on her face as she stared at me, her face fully expressing the horror and regret she felt.

“Po, don’t tell me I never told you my name. Oh God. I never even told my girlfriend-” hold on, what. I froze. What did Ko just say?

“Girlfriend?” I said in a squeaky voice. Ko never asked me out. All she did was invite me to concerts. That doesn't count as asking me out. People invite others to concerts all the time. It's not inherently a romantic thing.

Ko gave me a puzzled look. “Yeah? I mean, I guess I technically broke up with you when I left but I tried to contact you. I asked Ziggy to locate your phone number but he didn't really know where to start or how to narrow down his options because the phone number for the bakery and your personal one are two different numbers so… yeah.” She said, rubbing her neck awkwardly.

I just stared at her.

“Ko. When the fuck did you ask me out?”

“When I asked you to that concert! The Amazing Devil one? They were your favorite band and you always talked about wanting to see them so I took you.”

“Ko. I remember that day in picture perfect detail. Never once did you ever say the words “do you wanna be my girlfriend” or “would you like to go on a date”. You just asked me if I wanted to go to the concert. That doesn’t constitute anything!” I said exasperated, waving my arms around to make my point.

“Well then I guess that means I didn’t fuck up as badly as I had thought!” She reached over and grabbed my hands, her large blue ones cradling my smaller ones “Polaris Andromeda Iliad, wanna go out on a date?”

I’m not gonna lie. I froze, staring at her hands holding mine before I gathered up the courage to look her in the eyes.

Her typical fierce, brilliant blue eyes weren’t as bright anymore. They were dulled by whatever must’ve happened in the year she was gone, but they still held that spark that made Ko who she was.

I knew… I knew that the real question wasn’t if I would be willing to date her, but if I was willing to forgive her for the unintentional heartache and pain she put me through. If I was willing to forgive her for her mistakes and missteps and take her as she was.

And the answer was yes. It was always going to be yes. There was no world in which it ever would’ve been no.

I reached over the counter and cupped her face gently. She leaned into the touch, still staring at me with those kind eyes. I rose on my tiptoes and pulled her in as we kissed.

It was electric. Everything I thought it would be and more.

When we pulled away, slightly breathless, I heard a wolf whistle from somewhere to my right. It really ruined the moment. I turned my head to look at who did that only to realize that it came from the solari that Ko came in with earlier.

Ko let out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously Pyke. You couldn’t let me have this?”

The solari (Pyke I believe his name was?) raised an eyebrow at that. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t have done the exact same thing if this were Ophelia and I. Or me and Rett and I. Or… you get what I mean.”

Ko sighed again, this time more in resignation than anything. “Well, I guess I oughta properly introduce the two of you. Pyke, this is Polaris, owner of North Star Bakery. Po, this is Pyke, my old cell mate and current co-worker as a bounty hunting team on the Rhapsody.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Pyke said, extending his hand.

“Likewise” I responded, grabbing his hand and giving him a good, solid handshake just as my mother taught me.

He gave me an approving look. “Nice handshake.”

“Thanks. You too.” I said with a nod. Ko gave us this weird look until I opened my mouth to continue. “Ko, would you mind staying the night? I feel we got a lot of catching up to do.” I looked up at her batting my eyelashes coyly at her.

She smiled a huge dopey grin at before telling Pyke to inform the rest of the crew that she’d be out for a couple of days. I smiled right back at her before closing up shop and taking Ko home like I’d always dreamed.

There, Ko told me that her crew was only supposed to stay here for a week, so we made the most of that week. We went on dates, made up for lost time, and caught each other up on our lives. We talked about what our future together would have to look like because I refused to leave my bakery and Ko didn't want to give up her new life among the stars.

Eventually, a week came and went and Ko had to leave, with only a promise that we’d see each other in person again and that she loved me.

Long distance was our only option, and sure it's tough sometimes but one thing stays consistent.

I always look forward to Ko's visits.