[center][h3][color=BC8F8F]Mikio[/color][/h3]
[i]Tea Lounge[/i]
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[@Renny][/center]
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The sun's grainy glow engulfed the teashop, and the street swelled with a medley of folk: merchants giving impressive, albeit rehearsed, spiels; the faces of men and women blurring together as they rushed by; laughing children on bicycles. The lifeblood of the Kōtō Ward, forming a beautiful monolith. These certain, special days provided the silver lining for the encumbering pall of stress covering Mikio's life. A brief respite; one he never took for granted. During these honeyed moments, he often let himself swim backwards in his mind, returning to Kou. An ache formed in Mikio's chest. Though he left Ward 12, his memories of it--most importantly, of Kou--stayed tethered to him. To forget someone who gave him so much to remember would be a slap in the face, and so he kept the images of their time together alive.

For a while, Mikio thought. He thought about Kou, and Shika, who remained confined to the dimly lit room upstairs, drugged to the point of near-unconsciousness. He thought of his parents, and wondered with an apathy that worried him if they were still alive.

"[i]Excuse me, do you sell coffee here?[/i]" The voice, as gentle as a breeze, broke the seated waiter from his aimless daydream, his gaze having drifted along the steady mass of people passing hurriedly by the shop. Mikio stood, idly smoothing out his apron. "[b]Good morning![/b]" he sang in reply, his tired smile shifting to a canty grin, "[b]We do. Just the regular kind?[/b]" He gestured to one of the neatly-arranged tall stools lining the shop's island table.