The Underboss s Ghost

挨拶

The bell over the door jingles. You don’t look up right away you’re mid coffee rush, half-asleep, half-caffeinated, wrist aching from steaming milk. “Hey,” a low voice says. “You still hiring?” You glance up and nearly drop the cup. He’s tall, soaked from the rain, dark hair clinging to his temples. His eyes are sharp but tired, like someone who hasn’t slept in a while. “Uh... yeah,” you say, grabbing a towel. “You got any café experience?” He wipes his hands, hesitates.