{ King for a Day }
Title: King for a Day
Fandom: Persona 3
Characters: Shinjiro Aragaki
Word Count: 684
Comm & Prompt: 78_tarot : Four of Wands
Rating: PG13
"We really appreciate it, Aragaki-san." The manager bowed low, forehead already streaked with the sheen of the midday rush's sweat. "It was really short notice and I don't think we could have found anyone better suited to take over for the week. I'll be out front, so please don't hesitate to let me know if there's anything you need."
Shinjiro waved him off. Honestly, you'd think that he was a celebrity the way that people talked about him. If there was ever a way to alienate the cooks that he would be working with, it was probably something pretty close to this. He'd been able to make good headway with them in the five days that he'd been working at Wakatsu, but there would always be some degree of separation between the full-time guys and the outsider that their manager had literally chosen off the street.
It wasn't like Shinjiro hadn't been successful: his dishes matched the menu's standards and exceeded them in several areas, earning him compliments from the customers about the quality. His coworkers hadn't had much to complain about; as long as the work got done and the food tasted good, Shinjiro didn't particularly care how they did it. If he owned the joint, sure, maybe he would be more specific. Like insist that the one guy in back lay off the pepper a bit, or the sous chef slice his onions less thick. But hey, it wasn't like he would be running the show forever.
This was just temporary, until the usual guy returned from his week off. His wife had a baby or something and he was skipping out to be with her and the kid. Whatever.
"Got three orders of the special!" A waiter pinned up a new form, hastily looking around the kitchen for signs of life. "You guys ready for a big night?"
There was a murmuring of agreement. Tonight was a conference night at one of the nearby hotels and they were expected to see a lot of customers hitting up the Iwatodai strip shops for a taste of the local culture.
Shinjiro plucked the tickets from their places and glanced over them. One of these bastards wanted something complicated, but the rest looked fine. "Alright."
Orders flew past, dishes lining up under the heat lamps and just as quickly disappearing into the crowd. Once or twice when the kitchen doors opened, Shinjiro thought he'd see a familiar face, like Akihiko laughing at a table in the crowd, or that girl, but then the doors would shut and he would tell himself to stop being an ass and get on with laying out the skirt steak on the next order.
"This is amazing!" The manager flew back in an hour later, watching in awe as the kitchen sailed through its orders. "We're full up, but we're even getting some people just asking for take-out containers so that they can order and eat at home." He shook his head with a smile. "You know, Aragaki-san, you've got talent. I can't tell how many people have commented on your eye for presentation and exquisite taste. You could go somewhere with this, maybe open up your own place."
The manager laughed. "Although, please not around here! You'd take all our customers away. So, what do you say? Got any plans for when you graduate high school?"
Shinjiro sliced through another filet, expertly shaping the steak and seasoning it on its plate. Plans, huh? He'd neglected to tell the manager that he'd dropped out of high school, that any interest he'd had had been stomped out when he'd taken someone else's life a year ago in an alley. It didn't feel right to be doing this, to be succeeding when he had done something that bad.
But the annals of guilt and justice are difficult to explain in between final prep on orders, so instead he settled for:
"Maybe. I'll think about it."
Fandom: Persona 3
Characters: Shinjiro Aragaki
Word Count: 684
Comm & Prompt: 78_tarot : Four of Wands
Rating: PG13
"We really appreciate it, Aragaki-san." The manager bowed low, forehead already streaked with the sheen of the midday rush's sweat. "It was really short notice and I don't think we could have found anyone better suited to take over for the week. I'll be out front, so please don't hesitate to let me know if there's anything you need."
Shinjiro waved him off. Honestly, you'd think that he was a celebrity the way that people talked about him. If there was ever a way to alienate the cooks that he would be working with, it was probably something pretty close to this. He'd been able to make good headway with them in the five days that he'd been working at Wakatsu, but there would always be some degree of separation between the full-time guys and the outsider that their manager had literally chosen off the street.
It wasn't like Shinjiro hadn't been successful: his dishes matched the menu's standards and exceeded them in several areas, earning him compliments from the customers about the quality. His coworkers hadn't had much to complain about; as long as the work got done and the food tasted good, Shinjiro didn't particularly care how they did it. If he owned the joint, sure, maybe he would be more specific. Like insist that the one guy in back lay off the pepper a bit, or the sous chef slice his onions less thick. But hey, it wasn't like he would be running the show forever.
This was just temporary, until the usual guy returned from his week off. His wife had a baby or something and he was skipping out to be with her and the kid. Whatever.
"Got three orders of the special!" A waiter pinned up a new form, hastily looking around the kitchen for signs of life. "You guys ready for a big night?"
There was a murmuring of agreement. Tonight was a conference night at one of the nearby hotels and they were expected to see a lot of customers hitting up the Iwatodai strip shops for a taste of the local culture.
Shinjiro plucked the tickets from their places and glanced over them. One of these bastards wanted something complicated, but the rest looked fine. "Alright."
Orders flew past, dishes lining up under the heat lamps and just as quickly disappearing into the crowd. Once or twice when the kitchen doors opened, Shinjiro thought he'd see a familiar face, like Akihiko laughing at a table in the crowd, or that girl, but then the doors would shut and he would tell himself to stop being an ass and get on with laying out the skirt steak on the next order.
"This is amazing!" The manager flew back in an hour later, watching in awe as the kitchen sailed through its orders. "We're full up, but we're even getting some people just asking for take-out containers so that they can order and eat at home." He shook his head with a smile. "You know, Aragaki-san, you've got talent. I can't tell how many people have commented on your eye for presentation and exquisite taste. You could go somewhere with this, maybe open up your own place."
The manager laughed. "Although, please not around here! You'd take all our customers away. So, what do you say? Got any plans for when you graduate high school?"
Shinjiro sliced through another filet, expertly shaping the steak and seasoning it on its plate. Plans, huh? He'd neglected to tell the manager that he'd dropped out of high school, that any interest he'd had had been stomped out when he'd taken someone else's life a year ago in an alley. It didn't feel right to be doing this, to be succeeding when he had done something that bad.
But the annals of guilt and justice are difficult to explain in between final prep on orders, so instead he settled for:
"Maybe. I'll think about it."