Nanami Kento, a mysterious and charming figure stumbles into the ordinary world of a café worker.
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𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: This story contains mature content such as explicit language and sexual situations.
𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄�...
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The jarring buzz of your phone shatters the tranquility of your sleep, forcing your eyelids to snap open, revealing a dimly lit room. Groggily, you reach out into the abyss of your bed, fingers fumbling beneath the comforting layers of pillows and sheets until they collide with the cool surface of your phone.
With a swift motion, you answer the call, a raspy "Hello?" escaping your lips.
"Good morning, y/n!" Mrs. Kimura's voice, a blend of warmth and urgency, fills your ear. "Could you possibly open the café for us this morning? Traffic's a nightmare on this side of town."
"Mmm, yeah, no problem," you mumble, your voice tinged with sleepiness.
The chill in the air nips at your skin as you shuffle under the covers.
"Thank you so much! I know it's your day off, I'm terribly sorry!" Mrs. Kimura's apology carries genuine sincerity.
"No worries! I'll see you soon, drive safe," you assure her before ending the call.
Allowing your head to sink back into the plushness of your pillow, you savor a few more moments of warmth before reluctantly dragging yourself out of bed and into the bathroom. Sitting on the frigid porcelain throne, you release a tired yawn, arms stretching skyward. After attending to your morning rituals, you stand before the mirror, contemplating the day ahead. Without any errands to occupy your time or visits to look forward to, the prospect of yet another solitary day looms. Yet, the presence of Benny, your faithful feline companion promises comfort. Completing your morning routine, you gaze into the mirror, smoothing stray brows and rubbing at the perpetual bags beneath your eyes, a routine as familiar as the sunrise.
You reach for a spray bottle, misting your tousled curls to dampen them. You didn't care to fight with your hair right now. Opting for ease over perfection, you secure your locks with a large scrunchie, embracing a carefree look that's both casual and effortlessly chic.
Swapping your oversized shirt for a cropped white top that bares just a sliver of skin, you slip into a pair of jeans and your trusty non-slip work shoes before heading out of your apartment.
Navigating the short hallway to the staircase leading down to the café, you flick on the lights and set about wiping down the tables. Connecting the aux cord to the café laptop, you fill the space with the soothing melodies of soft lo-fi tunes that play daily. You power up the coffee machines and sandwich presses, ensuring the telltale red lights indicate they're ready for action.
As the scent of warming croissants fills the air, a rhythmic tapping draws your attention to the front door. Assuming it's an early bird employee, you move to answer it, only to pause mid-stride as you're met with an unfamiliar face. Shaking your head in a silent refusal, you mouth, "We aren't open yet."
With another thirty minutes until the café officially opens its doors to Tokyo, the man pleads earnestly, his hands clasped together in a pleading gesture. His words are muffled through the thick door, leaving you torn between concern for safety and compassion for his plight. What if he's a lunatic? Yet, his demeanor remains desperate but not aggressive. Against your better judgment, you relent, cautiously unlocking the door for the tall, blonde stranger.
"Thank you so much," he exclaims with gratitude, bowing slightly in appreciation.
"It's fine. What can I get for you?" you inquire, locking the door behind him before making your way to the register, a sense of unease lingering at the back of your mind.
The man's silence hangs in the air for a moment as he scans the menu, his eyes flitting over the array of tempting options. Exhaustion weighs heavily on him after a long night's work, leaving him too drained to contemplate his meal choice. His gaze drifts to the display case, where various breads beckon invitingly.
"I'll just take... um, that sandwich," he decides finally, pointing to a selection in the case.
"Is that everything?" you inquire, retrieving the chosen sandwich from the fridge.
"And a black coffee, that's all. Thank you," he adds with a hint of gratitude in his voice.
You nod in understanding, humming quietly as you process the order on the register. "Swipe your card here for me, please," you prompt, indicating the card reader as you prepare to finalize the transaction.
"I just want to say thank you again. I'm sorry if I've inconvenienced you in any way," the man expresses, swiping his card.
"Oh no, it's really okay. I mean, I will admit I was startled a bit, but sometimes you really are just that hungry," you reassure him with a shrug, busying yourself with filling the coffee machine with beans.
"It's going to be about 5 minutes; I haven't started a brew yet. Would you like any water, orange juice, anything?" you offer hospitably.
"No thank you," he responds, nodding gratefully as he takes a seat in a nearby booth.
As you observe him silently munching on his sandwich, patiently awaiting his coffee, you can't help but feel a twinge of wariness.
As you watch the man enjoy his meal in silence, his gentlemanly demeanor clashes with your lingering paranoia. The buzzing of the coffee machine jolts you from your thoughts, signaling that his coffee is ready.
Pouring it into a clean mug, you set it next to him and inquire, "Anything else I can get you?"
"No, no, I'm alright, thank you," he reassures you with a polite nod.
"Well, I hope you enjoy," you offer a sheepish smile before returning to warm your own breakfast.
As the two of you eat in a somewhat comforting silence, your nerves gradually ease. Engrossed in scrolling through social media, you're momentarily distracted until the sound of keys entering the lock draws your attention. Mrs. Kimura enters, carrying her purse, and you greet her softly.
"Good morning," you sing, a touch of relief evident in your voice.
"Hello, my dear! How are you?" she asks as she makes her way over to the counter.
"I'm great, thank you. Do you want me to stay and wait for the staff with you?" you offer, willing to lend a hand.
"It's okay, my dear. You're free to go," she replies, playfully waving you off. You glance over towards the booth where the man was sitting, only to find him slumped over onto the table.
"Oh my god?!" you exclaim, alarmed by the sudden change.
"Don't worry about him, darling. He does this every once in a while. He works nights, I think," Mrs. Kimura says nonchalantly, unfazed by the scene.
Relieved that he's not in any trouble, you breathe a sigh of relief. "Okay, well, I'm going back upstairs. Just let me know if you need a hand," you offer, already making your way towards the staircase.
"I've got it from here, dearest," Mrs. Kimura replies, her smile warm and reassuring.
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