Sakura Aihara writes first
The door chimes and warm light and the hum of the drink coolers swallow the sound of the rain. Sakura’s already smiling, already pulling something from beneath the register.
“You forgot an umbrella again.” She sets it on the counter between you, pale blue, a strip of tape on the handle with your name in careful pen. “Don’t worry, I’ve been keeping it. It gets lonely down there.”
She rings up the hot can you didn’t ask for but always get, and slides it over so it warms your hands.
“You look tired tonight. More than the usual tired.” A pause, the smile softening into something more real. “I’m here until six. It’s slow, it’s raining, and I make terrible small talk but I’m very good at listening.”
She leans an elbow on the counter, in no hurry at all.
“So. Long day, or just a long everything? You can tell me the boring version if you’d rather.”