The rich, aromatic scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the café, warm and familiar, clinging to the air as though it had seeped into the walls themselves. Dressed entirely in black—a black jacket layered over a black shirt, a black cap pulled low, black trousers, and polished black shoes—the man chose a seat in the far corner, one carefully positioned to give him a clear view of the counter, the kitchen entrance, and the bakery shelf. There were only a few customers scattered about, perhaps because it was still early, just past ten in the morning. This café was usually crowded during lunchtime and remained lively well into the night, its drinks and cakes selling out almost as soon as they appeared, coveted like rare treats.
While his gaze drifted across the room with quiet vigilance, a woman in her mid-twenties approached his table, her smile gentle and practised.
“What would you like to have?” she asked, setting the menu down before him.
Cade did not respond immediately. For a brief moment, his expression went blank, as though his thoughts had wandered somewhere far away.
“Sir?” The woman leaned in slightly and waved her hand once in front of him. “Sir?”
The motion seemed to pull him back.
“Sorry,” Cade murmured, lowering his gaze.
He opened the menu and pretended to read, though the words blurred together, meaningless.
“I’ll have an espresso,” he said quietly. “A slice of strawberry roll cake, two slices of red velvet cheesecake, and a mixed-flavour macaron set. All for takeaway.”
“I understand. Please wait a moment,” she replied, collecting the menu before heading towards the kitchen.
Moments later, she emerged and called out from the coffee station, “Jule, one espresso.”
“I’m on it, Miana,” replied a man with dark brown hair, offering a playful salute.
While Jule prepared the coffee, Miana worked efficiently at the display, selecting each cake with care and packing them neatly into boxes before placing everything into a paper bag. By the time she finished, Jule had already approached with the espresso, dark and steaming.
Cade rose from his seat, about to pay, when a voice echoed from the kitchen.
“Jule, Miana, help me with the next batch.”
Both of them disappeared inside at once, returning shortly with a large container, which they carefully arranged on the display shelf. As they finished, another woman stepped out, carrying a tray of freshly baked cakes. She wore a chef’s hat and a white apron, moving with quiet confidence as she filled the shelf.
Cade’s breath caught when he noticed the name embroidered on her apron.
Rheina.
The shelf, once nearly empty, was now filled with their best-selling items. Something heavy settled in Cade’s chest, his heart dropping as though he had lost his footing. The sharp beep of his watch snapped him back to the present. He steadied himself and walked to the counter.
As he paid, his eyes met Rheina’s. She offered him a polite nod and a warm, professional smile—nothing more than a courtesy extended to a customer.
And yet, it felt like too much.
Cade took the paper bag and left without a word.
Outside, he paused and glanced back through the window. Inside, Rheina stood with Jule and Miana near the counter, laughter soft and unguarded, their smiles genuine. A smile formed on Cade’s lips as well—one that curved upward, yet never reached his eyes. Those eyes were filled with longing, with loneliness, with a quiet ache he had long since learned to endure.
Another beep echoed from his watch.
“Red alert. Two infectees detected. Black tag. Immediate execution required.”
Cade placed the bag gently inside his car, then reached for the sword resting within, securing it against his back. The targets were close. Close enough to reach on foot.
Before moving, he turned one last time to look at the café.
Cade was glad that they were no longer trapped in pain or sorrow.
“Just keep living like that, Rheina… Jule… Miana,” he murmured. “Keep smiling.”
His fingers tightened briefly around the hilt of his sword.
“I’ll keep protecting you. I’ll keep doing this kind of work—as long as you can.”
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