Long minutes passed, quiet, as a handful of people shuffled in for an early lunch, took their seats in the dimly lit booths and ordered. Akihiro was alone, save for one other cook, and so he dipped in and out from behind the counter to serve food, or to check in thee kitchen. Quinn had finished her first glass very fast, and had politely asked for another with the same uncertain surety with which she’d ordered the first. 

Then, she finished that one too. 

Akihiro did not immediately refill this one, instead he waited until she asked on her own, and then delayed further by busying himself with the other tables. That took another few minutes, but when he finally returned she was still adamant that she wanted another drink. 

She was the pilot, she got what she wanted. He poured her another yuzu cocktail, and continued to work. He minded the kitchen briefly as he sent his cook out to fetch bread. When he returned, Akihiro brought a small basket of rolls out and set them down for Quinn, beside the still-untouched noodles, along with a pitcher and a glass of water. 

“In case you change your mind. Good for later.”