The beginning
The cafe door swung open with a familiar creak, and Krai stepped inside. The morning light cut across the empty tables, catching dust motes in mid-air. Cammile was already there. She was always already there, wiping down the counter in slow, deliberate circles.
“Morning,” Krai said.
She looked up, and her face softened into that gentle smile she wore like an apron. “Morning, Krai. You’re here early today. 😅”
" Well, Mashiro was hungry. Had to wake up early.”
Cammile laughed, quiet and warm. “Oh. 😊 I understand. It’s normal. I thought something was up. 🙂”
Krai shrugged. “I have nothing to do.”
He walked into the changing room. The air was cooler here, quieter. He reached for his chef’s uniform, the familiar fabric rough against his fingers. As he changed, his thoughts drifted—not to the cafe, not to the day ahead, but to something older. Something heavier.
They’re all kind.
He paused, shirt halfway buttoned.
I have responsibilities. I can’t act kindly.
He looked up at the ceiling. The same ceiling he’d looked at a hundred times. The same silence. But today, the silence felt like an invitation.
“It’s weird, right, Mom?”
He nodded slightly, as if she had answered. His expression settled into something satisfied. Something almost peaceful.
“Kindness is good. But not everywhere.”
He closed the locker. The metal clang echoed briefly, then faded. He left the changing room behind.
Out on the main floor, Shihiro was making coffee. The manager moved with the slow precision of someone who had done this ten thousand times and would do it ten thousand more.
“Need any help?” Krai asked.
Shihiro glanced up. “No need for help. But I appreciate it. ☺️”
Krai sighed—a short, quiet exhale. “Okay.”
The cafe door burst open. Gwen stormed in, breathless and grinning.
“Sorry I’m late!”
Everyone’s expression cracked into laughter. Everyone except Krai. He just smiled—a small, barely-there curve at the corner of his mouth.
“No need to apologize,” he said. “You’re always late.”
Shihiro grinned. “You’re right. 😆”
Gwen waved them off. “Okay, okay.”
Minutes later, three customers entered. The door chimed, and the cafe’s quiet hum shifted into something livelier.
“Welcome. ☺️” Gwen’s voice was bright.
“Welcome. ☺️” Cammile’s was gentle.
“Welcome,” Krai said.
Shihiro glanced at the door. “It’s them.”
Krai followed his gaze. Three figures. Familiar. Sahara. Mashiro. Yuki. He clocked them immediately—the teasing glance from Sahara, the bouncing energy of Mashiro, the quiet nerves of Yuki.
“Oh, it’s you guys. What’re you doing here?”
Sahara stepped forward, her expression dripping with mock offense. “Ara-Chan! What rudeness. Are we not welcome here? 😄”
Cammile jumped in before Krai could answer. “No, no! You’re always welcome here.”
Shihiro watched the exchange and thought—There she goes again. Falling for Sahara’s dirty tricks.
And then Mashiro, Krai’s little sister, launched herself at his leg. She clung there, a small warm weight, with Yuki trailing nervously behind her.
