The bell above the café door jingled softly—right on time.
Ren glanced up from the espresso machine, already knowing who it would be. Every morning at precisely 7:35, the same customer walked in like a whispered habit: tall, quiet, and wrapped in a plain hoodie that never quite matched the weather. He carried no phone, no laptop. Just ordered a coffee, took the window seat, and stared outside like he was waiting for something.
"Black coffee," the man said with a polite nod.
Ren nodded back, voice catching before it even left his throat. "Got it."
It wasn't the first time he'd stumbled over words around this guy. Something about his presence always slowed the air, like time pressed pause the second he entered. The name on his receipt read Kaito, but Ren had never dared ask if that was real.
The drink was ready in less than a minute, but Ren lingered, dusting the counter, pretending to be busy while sneaking glances.
Kaito sat in his usual spot—by the fogged window, long fingers wrapped around the warm ceramic cup. His eyes, dark and thoughtful, watched the world pass like it might vanish without warning.
Ren slipped back behind the counter and reached under the register, pulling out a worn sketchbook. He flipped past half-finished landscapes and imagined characters, stopping on the page he'd added to last night: a pencil sketch of a man in a hoodie, staring out of a café window.
It was him.
He shaded the jawline a little more, then paused, embarrassed. What was he doing? Sketching customers like some secret stalker?
Still... he turned to a fresh page.
Kaito had interesting hands. Long, elegant. Maybe he played an instrument. Or painted. Or—
"You draw?"
Ren nearly dropped the sketchpad.
Kaito stood across the counter now, the cup empty in his hand, eyebrows raised—not unkindly.
Ren scrambled to close the notebook. "Uh—just doodles."
Kaito looked at him for a moment that stretched far too long.
"They're good," he said, voice low. "You should draw people more."
"I do," Ren said, fingers tightening around the edges of the sketchpad. "Sometimes."
Kaito smiled faintly, the corner of his mouth quirking upward before he turned to go.
Ren watched him disappear into the morning crowd, the steam of his breath vanishing into the chill.
He looked down at the empty page.
And began to draw again.