Shin Saki woke with a start, his small apartment slowly coming into focus. He took a deep calming breath, the cabinet at the foot of his bed nothing but a vague outline. With years of practice, he crawled to the edge of the bed, going by feel to find his clothes.
Groggy from sleep, he slipped on his uniform, the darkness doing little to impede him. He had repeated these same movements for so long that light seemed superfluous.Tugging on his tie, he trudged into the cramped kitchen adjacent to his room. With a yawn, he flicked on the light, the room blinking awake. It wasn't much, just a table with one chair, an oven and a sink. To cap it all off, he had a TV, one that made his microwave seem large.
His eyes rested on the portable grill atop the counter, a recent purchase he had just scrounged up enough yen for. The online marketplace was a host of good deals for an enterprising bachelor like himself. Resting his only pan on the grill, he turned it on, a soft click of the starter filling the air.
Shin frowned, pushing the starter again. There was another soft click, but as before, no flames. Grumbling, he reached for the small power core slotted into the back of the grill.
His groan deepened as the power core flickered softly, the dial inserted into the surface showing the needle firmly on the red. So much for magical batteries being better than propane. And so much for that advertisement's boastful claims of the core lasting a whole year. It was six months at best.
Well, back to microwaved rice balls. He sighed, sliding the plate with the aforementioned breakfast in the overhead microwave. At least this one ran on good old fashioned electricity.
While he waited, Shin turned on his small TV, the soft drone of the news anchor filling the room.
"Authorities are calling for the evacuation of northern Shinjuku. Please be advised, the monsters are spilling out of a subway tunnel to the north of the yodabashi plateau. This is a category one incursion. The Council is asking that you please stay calm, and remain indoors while the monster threat is dealt with."
Even if category one was the weakest of all incursions, Shin had no desire to see the aftermath of another monster attack. Shin changed the channel to a morning talk show. The three sycophants were gushing over a video of this year's Miss America. Not exactly a bastion of American culture, but it was a good way to practice his English.
This year's Miss America was stunningly beautiful, no doubt, but that was beside the point. The world had been turned upside down, and yet, some things never changed.
Speaking of which, he was running late. Eating while walking was frowned upon, but today he would have to commit that taboo. Checking himself in a small mirror, he straightened his tie, giving his black hair a quick comb with his hand.
There were crow's feet at the corners of his eyes, worry lines on his forehead. Has it really only been three years since he graduated? Shin sighed, trudging towards the door, his meagre breakfast tasting bland. The door clicked shut behind him, his shoes clicking softly as he descended the narrow staircase. Before he knew it, he was stepping out onto the street, the sky slowly brightening overhead.
It was a brisk autumn morning, the traffic already a bustle. Tugging his jacket tighter around his shoulders, he made his way to the nearest subway tunnel, descending into the tunnels below.
Like he had for the past three years, he made his way to the Tenshin line, scanning his card. Unlike the day prior, the panel blinked red, a gate closing to block his path. Shin let out a weary sigh. Just his luck, his card lacked the two hundred and thirty yen required to enter the terminal. With another sigh, he turned back, finding a nearby ATM machine.
He placed his Suica card on the reader and inserted his credit card into the slot. His fingers danced over the keypad, a giant red X appearing on the screen.
"Can't read the card, please try again," the machine droned.
Shin frowned. He did so, and the machine gave the same monotone response.
More annoyed, Shin tried his credit card. The giant red X made him want to punch the screen. So much for the day going well.
The train appeared to be a bust, but he might make it on foot if he hurried. Given the distance he would have to run the entire way. With no other options, Shin set off in a jog, down the tunnel, back up to the street. In minutes he was already gasping for breath, his lungs unused to exerting himself so much.
He used to be in good shape back when he played on the school football team, but he hadn't run like this in a long time. Adult life — and a full-time job — had a way of getting in the way of things.
So much for the "potential" his coach once talked about.
Shin pushed himself harder, but the café was still a fair distance away.
If only he had a bike.
By the time he arrived, he was well and truly late. The coffee shop was already packed, Master Kasaki and Fuki frantically trying to keep up. With only a glance from Master Kasaki, Shin ducked into the back, immediately setting to work. The queue was stuffed with orders, some already at the end of the cycle time. No one commented on his tardiness, but they didn't need to. To make up for it, he worked himself to the bone, filling orders as quickly as he could.
It was a whirl of activity, mixing drinks, cleaning dishes and packing food. His day passed in a blur, the morning rush seeming to spill over into lunchtime. They didn't even get a break until three, and even that was much too short. The day was finally seeming to calm down when there was an angry shout from the front counter. Master Kasakai was in the back dealing with a delivery truck, leaving Fuki to run the counter.
A foreigner in a bad mood was angrily gesturing his mostly empty drink at Fuki, saying something in English.
Fuki was trying as best she could, but her English was subpar at best. As their de facto translator, Shin moved to save her.
"Fuki, lemme handle this," Shin said.
"Thank you, you're a lifesaver," Fuki said, giving him a relieved look.
Shin plastered on an ingratiating smile as he stepped up to the register.
"I'm sorry sir, what is the problem?" Shin asked, in his best English.
The man scowled.
"The problem? I asked for an almond Mocha latte, and I got this garbage. This clearly has soy in it, don't you know I'm allergic," the man said angrily.
Shin sighed internally while keeping his outward smile.
"Sorry sir. If you will just give us a few minutes, we will remake your latte," Shin said with an apologetic bow. The drink was mostly empty, and he could see that the label was in fact marked almond milk, but Shin decided it wasn't worth arguing.
The foreigner huffed. "Fine, hurry it up. It would be a shame if I burned this place to the ground," the man said, raising a hand, a tendril of orange flame curling up from his finger.
Flame crackled ominously, bathing the small cafe in heat and orange light. The shop went deathly silent, none daring to so much as make a move. The man was an awakened, not constrained by the same laws as normal people.
Shin flinched back, the heat stinging his face. Fuki, standing to his side, shifted nervously, clearly terrified of the threat. Shin was also terrified, but he was able to put on the mask. After all, he had plenty of practice dealing with irate customers.
Normally they didn't have literal fire, but he could deal with that. Shin had to forcibly keep calm, put on the mask. It was something he had plenty of practice doing these days.
Despite being terrified himself, he personally remade the mocha latte, handing it to the customer with a forced smile.
Latte in his free hand, the man dismissed his flame with a huff. He grumbled something about Shin being less intelligent than an imp before he stormed out. Shin could only let out a shaky sigh, Fuki trembling next to him.
It had been two decades since people started gaining magical powers and monsters started appearing in the world, and yet. People were still just as petty, just as greedy, only now, some could burn down the shop with a flick of their hand. It was honestly a headache. What kind of asshole threatens to set someone on fire over a latte?
Shin sighed. So much had changed, and yet stayed the same. For many, their world had turned upside down, but for Shin, life was still normal. He was just a regular guy, making coffee, and dealing with customers.
It was strange. Some had risen to the status of celebrities, some even considered heroes, while others were just regular people. Shin didn't mind being regular. In fact it kept him grounded.
Shin was startled from his introspection as a hand rested on his shoulder.
"Good job, Shin. You too, Fuki, you two handled that well,"
Turning, Shin smiled. "Thankyou, master Kasaki," Shin said with a bow.
Fuki fidgeted nervously.
"I don't know if I can handle any more of that kind of excitement," Fuki said, shifting on her feet.
Master Kasaki laughed boisterously, the sound seeming to brighten the shop.
"Don't be like that Fuki, a little excitement never killed anyone," Master Kasaki chortled.
"I will take your word for it," Fuki replied dubiously.
The rear doorbell rang softly.
"Excuse me, duty calls," Master Kasaki said, returning behind the back counter.
Fuki smiled over at him. "Thank's Shin, you saved my butt there," Fuki said.
"Don't worry about it. I guess all that English practice is paying off," Shin teased.
Fuki shook her head. "I still don't know how you watch those terrible dramas. They talk so fast, it's a pain to understand," Fuki said.
"Some of them are a bit over the top, but interesting nonetheless," Shin said.
"So you say," Fuki replied dubiously.
Shin smirked. "Anyway, there is another customer, we should get back to work," Shin said, gesturing as a customer walked in.
"So it seems," Fuki replied, adopting her usual bright smile as she stepped up next to the till.
"Hello there, good afternoon. How may I help you?" Fuki asked.
Pushing the tense encounter to the back of his mind, Shin moved to his workstation, patting the mirror smooth steel side of the latte machine. No rest for the wicked. He smiled at the thought.
With the orders having been placed, he set to work.
Thousands of hours of practice perfecting his lattes culminated in this. His designs were just as he had once envisioned, beautiful if not fleeting. But then, that is what made each one so special. Every leaf, heart, or tree was unique, something he put his passion into.
And yet, these days that passion seemed to be fading. Every day seemed to blur into the next, the designs he was so proud of no longer sparking that excitement it used to. Was it the occasional ungrateful customer? No, there were just as many if not more who were excited, coming in every day to buy one. For months he had pondered the conundrum, and finally came to a realization.
Maybe this fugue was just the result of stagnation? His passion, the reason he pursued this career, was that he loved art. Improving his designs gave him joy, but come to think of it, he hadn't made something new in quite some time. Perhaps that was the key? Maybe some new designs and even some foreign flavors could bring back that drive he once had? The idea was enough to brighten his increasingly bleak mood. Shin couldn't remember the last time he felt so energized. He was practically bouncing on his feet as he opened up the shop the next day, a host of new, unique designs filling his mind.
Many of them were yet untested, but he had every intention of wowing the customers. A little something to take their minds off their own daily grind.
It was a new day, a new him.