The First Time

Chapter 4

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        Haru looked at his watch as he nonchalantly crossed the street—6:49 PM. According to his estimations, he would arrive at the café as soon as the clock hit 7. Quiet hums in notes he could not hit accompanied his long walk. He strolled with unreasonable confidence; his disguise was effective, although nothing more than a black face mask.  

        Soon enough, there it was: Hachikō Café. His assured steps abruptly stopped. He had miscalculated. Nothing simply closed at its closing time. His eyes watched swarms of people walk in and out, grabbing drinks, snacks, chatting—business as usual. 

        "Hah," the man chuckled awkwardly and hid behind a lamp post, leaning against it. A wave of uncertainty struck him. His palms started shaking. What was he meant to do: wait? A cigarette rested against his lips as his mask embraced his sharp jawline. With a quick glance, Haru checked if anyone could see him and took out his lighter. Rapid drags helped relax his hands.

7:12 PM—The man with the rough voice served the last customer.

7:31 PM—He wiped the counter and checked the register. There was no sign of the blonde.

8:28 PM—He could be seen ready to leave. A door in the far back opened and she walked out. They gestured "ok" to each other and the man left the café. She looked around and checked everything he had done, once again. She started mopping the floor, despite it having been done 20 minutes prior.

        He had gone through half a pack. Extinguishing the barely lit stick between his fingers, the actor took a few steps towards the entrance. He took one back, and then some more, forward. A loud sigh was heard before he found himself facing the café. Haru lightly tapped the rose-tinted window, catching the attention of the woman who had finished cleaning. She rolled her eyes and pointed to the sign on the door: "Closed".

        "Hi." He mouthed with a sharp breath and a playful wave, in synchrony with several knocks. "Can I—" his finger dramatically pointed to his torso, "—speak—", he gestured speech with his palm, "—to you?", and pointed equally hardly to her silhouette.

        She once again pointed to the sign on the door and headed towards the storage room. Irritated, Haru rushed to the door and pushed the handle down, wanting to evoke a reaction with loud noises. The door opened.

        "What the fuck, why wouldn't you lock thi—" He looked back to the city outside of the café, then back indoors, surprised that his impulsiveness had helped him.

        "What do you want...?" her defeated voice echoed in the empty room as she stopped in her track.

        "I came to apologise."

        "We're closed, sorry."

        "Closed for apologies...?" Haru let go of the handle and closed the door behind him. "Your employees are a bit mean, you know?" His poor attempt at a joke was met with a scoff. "Sorry."

        "I need to lock this up." She frantically walked around the room, checking for all the bits and pieces she needed to do before closing for the day.

        "May I have a coffee?" He sat down on a barstool in front of the counter, waiting patiently.

        "We're closed, sor—"

        "But you see," his fingers trailed on the wooden surface. "I, a paying customer, am already in here," he pushed against it with his palm. "A-a-and... I want a black coffee. You kind of have to serve me." A devilish grin formed on his face.