As luck would have it, Grigori locked eyes with the only other singular person interested in the haul presented. Names and faces changed on the regular, but the types to be interested in a thing like this at a place like this were few and far between. In a way, a kindred soul felt comforting. 

But only for a moment. Then the man flung an insult.

"You are not wrong, sir," he stepped closer to both of the relevant people, "I would not make a good tea with it. However, where you are wrong is that I would use it for something like tea."

Tea? All the claim of nationality did was confirm his mind hadn't quite grown to its full potential. Grigori wouldn't make a good tea with it because he didn't make tea. Anyone with even an ounce of knowledge in the brewing process could do an adequate job. Uncultured was settling for tea with tea leaves.

His plan? Simple. "While a tea made from 'Ten Year Gyokuro' sounds pleasant, you set your sights low. I believe I could turn these leaves into an exquisite cake, given the opportunity."

He had tasted it once, many years back. A master in the field had concocted the confectionary delight, and he had gotten only a few bites. Yet those had been the singular best bites of cake the grunt had ever had. Ever. And even the chance to attempt a recreation was too good to pass up. Perhaps even worthy of a Bucket List.

"Or maybe some other pastry. The sky is the limit. You'll learn that when you get older, kid."

Two could play the 'age' game, though.

---

Kouji Matsubara

... That was this kid's idea of an insult? If Grigori had been younger, he would've punched the snot right out of him and started a fight right then in there. Instead, he rolled his eyes. "Please do not project your own insecurities onto others, for future reference. And do not be silly; for baking you'd wear an apron to protect your clothes, no matter what they may be."

This kid reminded him a lot of himself when he was younger. So naive, so full of pent-up anger and an itch to act on it. With any luck, he'll come out of this conversation all the wiser. Or maybe learn to not be so harsh to others. Both options were perfectly acceptable. People took time to grow and change.

Grigori knew first hand.

As for Kouji's second argument, he shrugged. "There is a real possibility I make a mistake. After all, it's not something I've ever done. But isn't that exciting? Fun? To roll up your sleeves and try to do something in earnest? As I see it, you're settling for 'good' when you could be aiming for 'great'."

Mental note: try out 'Ten Year Gyokuro' tea sometime.

---

Kouji Matsubara

If Grigori had been born yesterday, this would've been quite a convincing argument. Mistakes were a perfect thing to make from time to time. Learning the hard way wasn't necessarily bad. What's the harm here?

Grigori eyed the open hand, reached for it, then gently pushed the hand down. "Unfortunately, I will have to decline. While I appreciate your willingness to make mistakes, it's the responsibility of the older folk to help out the younger ones when necessary."

Trying to use his own argument against him. Certainly not unexpected, but disappointing all the same. There was a world of difference between 'making a decent cake instead of a phenomenal one' and 'letting someone squander such a wonderful opportunity on tea'. The two didn't even come close to one another, even if the tea was good.

It couldn't be better than a cake.

"To use the 'Ten Year Gyokuro' for tea would be too great a mistake," Grigori said. "However, if you let me try my hand at it, I'm sure I can make an exquisite cake. We can share it as well. Down the middle. A cake would surely last longer than a pot of tea."

At this point, it came down to pure desire that clashed against one another. He doubted the kid would agree to his idea, as he didn't agree with the other either. They'd probably need a third party to step in and weigh on the ultimate decision. "Or perhaps we let the one giving away the leaves decide. Would that be more fair?"

---

Kouji Matsubara

Well. This was certainly anti-climatic. To Grigori’s dismay, the tea leaves were not handed to him, nor this other person, but a third, unrelated party. What the hell did this guy do to win such a wondrous gift?

A crisp, ten poke-dollar was all it took, and the precious cargo exchanged hands. Into some other young adult, surrounded by a few friends, “Alright bros, let’s go smoke the SHIT out of this!”

The small group cheered and quickly exited the break room, chants of ‘Smoke it up!’ and ‘Let’s fucking go!’ left in their wake. Just like that, his hopes were crushed into fine dust. Scattered into the wind. Was one’s heart supposed to feel this heavy?

A near once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to make something with his own two hands, with such a rare item… gone.

“Well… gotta go. Have fun talking about whatever stupid shit you two were on about,” The original owner said before departing himself. That left the two of them alone in the room, not another civilized soul in sight.

Grigori sighed, “Perhaps we should’ve compromised. I apologize for my half of the blame. Looks like neither of us get what we want in the end.”

Perhaps not all was wasted. An idea sprang up in his head, a potential happy end to this sudden soul-crushing experience. “Say, maybe we just… have some regular tea and cake? Should be some left in the fridge over there.”

---

Kouji Matsubara

“You can call me Grigori, Mr. Kouji,” Grigori said.

Slim odds they’d ever get the chance at that again. A near once-in-a-lifetime opportunity experience flushed down the drain. He couldn’t take his mind off of it. That was something he had wanted to do for ages now. If he were the type to keep a bucket list, that’d be one of the first three things written on it.

While Kouji retrieved his tea, Grigori approached the fridge. At least there was still some cake to be eaten here. He had baked it last night and covered it in chocolate frosting and sprinkles and all other sorts of sweet confectionaries.

He could practically taste it from across the room, and the excitement only built up as he got closer. “I hope you have a sweet tooth, Mr. Kouji, because I do not hold back when it comes to–”

The door swung open. Inside were the usual suspects: labeled Tupperware, bottled drinks, fruits. However, absent was one respectably sized cake packed to the brim with colorful, sugary delights.

And despite the health benefits of not being able to take a single bite from it, his heart skipped a beat. The plate was still in the fridge, though, and atop it sat a note. “How’d you know it was my birthday, big guy? Thanks from the past!”

The grunt’s legs buckled underneath him. He didn’t remember when his mouth opened, but the start of a scream came out nonetheless. “nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO–”

---

Kouji Matsubara