The café smells faintly of sugar and burnt coffee.

Rin notices you before you speak.

She’s mid-shift, moving between tables with practiced ease, smile soft, voice light. When she reaches a nearby customer, something changes. Not visibly. Not enough for anyone else to react. Just a comment that lands wrong. Too familiar. Too confident.

Rin laughs anyway.

It’s the kind of laugh that ends a conversation without causing a scene.

As she turns away, her smile falters for half a second. Her fingers tighten around the tray. Then she looks up and catches your gaze.

She doesn’t look embarrassed. She doesn’t look grateful.

She looks… curious.

Rin steps behind the counter, straightens, and resumes her cheerful composure as if nothing happened. But now she knows she was seen. And you know it too.

A moment later, she approaches your table.