Reverse Tarot - cafe

The cafe was quaint, owing its reputation to the atmospheric lighting and gentle hubbub. At this time of day, there were very few customers lounging about, working with books or laptops set beside their mugs. The older barista eyed their request for the house special, but seemed to pick up on the fact that Naoto was not in the mood for small talk. Coffee was probably the last thing they needed, still trying to calm an uncharacteristicly nervous jitter their hands were making against the folder of papers. Everything was a mess lately--or had it always been like this? Not being able to confidently say one way or another wasn't a spiral they could afford to go down right now though. Now was an opportunity for answers. Maybe. Grahh... Upon collecting their drink, Naoto fumbled with their phone to send the promised text denoting their arrival, but found themselves squinting at the message already waiting. They didn't think they'd seen the man from the file photos when they'd done a cursory glance of the café, but was @Kura [has returnethed] already here? They fired off a follow up, peering more closely at the patrons. (edited)

Shinji stared at the dot on his phone as it moved a little every few steps he took. When the hell did phones start doing this kinda stuff? While he wanted to complain that calling and texting facilities were more than enough, he had to admit that this was a pretty useful feature. Apparently, he was pretty much at his destination, finally. It had been a bit of a journey, but the directions he’d been given had been sound. Even the advice he’d been given on smartphones had come in handy, although most of it had gone over his head. Pausing to look up from the small screen, he realised he was just across from what appeared to be labelled as the café the detective had chosen for their meeting. It looked quite small and quiet, far different to the massive, brightly lit Starbucks he’d passed on the way. This suited Shinji far better; looked better for such a meeting, and far less as though the pair would gain people’s attention. According to Naoto’s message, it would seem they’d been there for a few minutes. Shinji let out a small breath as he turned off the phone’s screen and shoved it into the pocket of his signature red coat. He entered the café cautiously, glancing around to map out the area and the people inhabiting it. Nobody really stood out to him, nor did his presence seem to cause any issue to anyone else. Good. Shinji guessed he didn’t stand out as much as you’d expect a dead person to. Worn out from the journey, Shinji decided to put off the search for Naoto until he’d ordered a drink; he made his way over to the counter and asked for the most basic thing he could find on the menu, paying with a handful of coins he’d found in his inside pocket. Drink sorted. Now, @Shadow Cloned Fox

"So this is the place. It certainly has the right atmosphere." Normally someone standing outside a cafe wouldn't garner much attention but in this case a red-head in a leather jacket and sunglasses staring up at LeBlanc's storefront wasn't exactly a common occurrence. Before anyone could ask the imposing figure what she could possibly want with such an out of the way cafe, she's already strolled in, opening the door with a confident 'Pardon me.' The dim lights of the cafe paired well with the faint smell of coffee wafting through the establishment, bringing a sense of calm over the high heeled woman as she took a seat at the meticulously maintained bar. One leg crossed over the other as she removed her sunglasses, hooking them into the front of her jacket as she glanced around the establishment she'd seen crop up in more reports than she'd have liked. Still, even if she was technically here on business it couldn't hurt to grab a little something. Just to see if all those goggle reviews had any merit to them. "Excuse me, this is my first time at your shop. I normally go for a lighter roast, something with floral notes, but what do you recommend?" Hopefully this place did actually know it's coffee and wasn't another 'dump in sugar and dairy products and call it a day' places.

The new guest that entered was the only one present in the cafe - they'd just passed what Akira had hoped would be his last of the day, or at least, last for a while. He turned away from his task in the kitchen, reaching up to brush away some stray powder from his cheek. Lighter roast, floral notes... they had more than one that could match that kind of description. This one seemed to know her coffee. It got him excited, almost too excited to gesture for her to wait one moment while he saw to picking out his (preferred) choice of beans matching the described flavor and went about preparing it. There was a pep in his step as he did so, body language betraying the upswing in his mood at the thought of someone who knew more than 'whatever goes well with the curry'. Excited though he was, the Thief took his time with his preparation, making extra sure that the coffee would turn out well. Once prepared, it was served promptly, cup offered by his recently scarred hand. An expectant look settled over Akira's features as he stepped back, hands sliding into his pockets. He hadn't struck up any kind of conversation during any of this, hadn't even hummed, and now he was only seeking feedback. Maybe his excitement had gotten the better of him and he'd simply forgotten to speak. Or, for all this one knew, he was selectively mute. Either one suited him, really.

At first when he doesn't so much as utter a peep at her request she raises a surprised brow. But then she is acknowledged, however non-verbally, and she settles in to flip through information on her phone while her cup was made. Considering the bustle of the barista serving her, the light bounce in their step, Mitsuru was certain that this would be a splendid cup of coffee. IF nothing else for the enthusiasm for which it was prepared. The barely audible clack of the dish placed before the leader of the Kirijo group is preceded only by the setting of her phone, face down. She seems to barely glance at the hand serving her, satisfied to give him a similar silence to the one afforded her as she lifts the still warm cup to her lips and takes a noiseless sip. "Hm. . ." Another, imperceptible sip before she speaks again, this time with a faint smile. "This is a very unique blend. Though I'm not normally one for chocolate flavors in my coffee, it melds especially well with, what I can only assume is Hibiscus?" ~~Were this a game, a little jingle with 3 notes would have played.~~ "I have to say I'm impressed. Though I would like something a little heavier on the floral notes, this has it's own distinct charms. I could see myself becoming fond of this very quickly. You have my thanks."

The air is heavy with antici... ... pation, as Akira waits for a response. Glee dances in his eyes at her recognition, a hand rising to glide triumphantly through his hair. Nailed it. She really did know her coffee. He could see them becoming fast friends, if she stuck around. And wasn't weirdly nosy. "That one's one of my favorites," he starts, finally moving to get things tidied up so he could wipe down the counter, "we do have a few others that are on the lighter side, though. You can try another when you come in next." A lot of confidence is present in his tone at this, like he's absolutely expecting her to return. Or, more likely, it's his default state of mind for his job. With everything all tidied, he's back at the counter, but this time it's to lean casually against it so that he could more easily converse. Lazy man. "So, what brings you out here?"

"I'm looking forward to what you serve next time." And there most certainly would be a next time. Especially if the drinks were consistently this good. They could even give Kikuno a run for her money. Though the maid may resent that sentiment later. The lean of the barista doesn't appear to bother her as she takes a long and relaxed sip before entertaining him with her voice once again. "I have an acquaintance who lives nearby. He's raved about this place on more than one occasion. I was hoping to try it out myself, since I was in the neighborhood anyway." Another sip before she sets her cup down, bracing the edge with her pinky to minimize noise, as she finally locks eyes with the surprisingly deep voiced barista. "Is it often this calm during the afternoons? With coffee this splendid, I'd assume people would flock to your counters whenever they could."

Careful, stranger, or Akira might think you're flirting with him! Be still, his beating heart! Internal dramatiques are interrupted by the comment of a nearby acquaintance, an eyebrow quirking curiously. While he had a suspicion.. best not to voice it. While most would look away at the sudden locking of gazes (in mortal combat), Akira was more than happy to engage. A battle of the wills. A clashing of the senses! "We have our regulars, but we're out of the way. Besides, if we're packed all the time, how do we get to know the people who come in?" The simple explanation's tailing question was definitely a probe, dancing close to a line that Akira seemed intent on exploring.

Flirting? With Akira? Maybe if he was a bit older. And more her type. Unfortunately he seems more the little brother type in the older womans eyes. His familiar nature coming off as cute rather than seductive or disarming. "That is a solid business technique. After all, businesses make the most money off return customers rather than new ones." The slight probe from the charmingly disheveled barista does not go unnoticed but it does go unaddressed. If he wanted more than cursory information, he'd need to ask himself. "I have to wonder, though, how you stay afloat if this is a normal day for you. You'll have to tell me your secrets."

Oh no, Akira can't be a brother, he's not cut out for that kind of lifestyle. He wasn't going to stop being himself, though. It's not a phase, ma'am, it's who he IS. Her comment earned a shrug and a slow blink from the barista. "I just work here, I'm not in charge of anything." That was all Boss' territory, and as far as he was concerned, it could very much stay that way. He had too much to keep an eye on to be doing things like paying bills and budgeting. "If there's anything you want to learn, you may just have to drop by some more. I'm sure you could learn something that way. Is it too late to introduce ourselves?"

He'll just have to learn! Otherwise he'll just have to kick open the door of her friendship! Somehow. "Is that so? Your boss is very lucky to have someone as skilled as you on staff." Another slow sip of coffee before her bright red ponytail is tossed over her shoulder before her hand is extended, nearly over, the bar. "Mitsuru Kirijo. A pleasure."

Aw, she thinks he's skilled! Good thing everything he knows is something Boss taught him. Not that she needs to know that. Showering him in compliments about his coffee is fine, thanks. Akira straightens at the offered hand, standing up to his full height before taking it and grasping it Firmly. He even gave it a good shake. "Akira." No last name? Rude! There's something about Mitsuru that gives him the feeling that she already knows his last name... or has a way of finding out quickly if she didn't. Maybe it's the way she carries herself? Her hand was released after the shake, knowing that just Holding It might be taken the wrong way. He kinda wanted to keep holding it, though. Maybe he should occupy himself with tidying to chase that thought away. A cloth was produced so that he could just... dust the counter (away from Mitsuru's coffee, of course). "Were you hungry, by the way? I could get you something."

She'd compliment Boss to his face if she ever saw him. Whenever that might be. Still, they clasp hands, and very nearly reenact that muscle arm painting for how firmly they both Grasp. But it's brief and fleeting and out of her mind the instant he lets go. "I'll be sure to remember that for next time." As if she hadn't already memorized nearly everything about him legally available. But the mention of food, just in time for her to set her empty cup down, raises her perfectly arched brows in mild surprise. "Oh? What sort of food do you serve? I'd assumed this was simply a coffee house."

Akira returned the raised eyebrows with some of his own, giving her a 'seriously?' brand look while his hands stopped moving for a moment. He took a deep breath. And this, this next part is important. "Curry." And sometimes baked goods, but only sometimes. Boss seemed to still be up in the air about them, but was warming up to the idea of curry buns. He wasn't going to tell her about the baked goods. "Pairs well with the coffee, so there's no clash in taste."

"Curry?" This seems to surprise her even more than the concept of such a cozy place offering food. Though perhaps not for the reason said barista might think. After all, she'd only heard of curry in concept before. This would be the first time she would try it herself. And she was determined to try it. "If that's what you recommend, I'm more than willing to try." Mitsuru would just have to step outside of her comfort zone for this visit.

This was a reaction that Akira was used to, though he still got a bit of a thrill out of the surprise people experienced upon finding out about the curry. He offered her a soft smile, turning away from her so that he could see to the request. Good thing he'd mastered the curry recipe years ago. This was sure to catch her attention! Though for a first experience, it might ruin curry made by anyone else on the entire planet. It was an unfortunate burden that Akira had to bear, being bale to cook... a burden he gladly shouldered in the name of curry. By the time he was setting Mitsuru's plate in front of her, his own internal monologue had transformed that soft smile into a playful smirk. Being funny is as much a burden to bear as the ability to cook, unfortunately. "Did you want another cup of coffee?"

It's during his preparations that Mitsuru is rapidly trying to go over any potentially applicable etiquette that she might use in this instance. She'd only ever heard of curry in passing or in the form of some branch of business. From what she could gather of it's consistency in photos, it would be a little too thick to slurp so soup manners were out. Perhaps it was closer to stew? But it always seemed to be served over a bed of rice. . . Suddenly the plate is in front of her and she's being offered coffee again. " If it's not too much trouble." At least that made sense. She takes a moment to stare down the plate, spoon untouched until the glasses clad young man reapproached with her drink. "Is there a particular etiquette for this particular dish?"

Akira was wholly unaware of the internal manners crisis during all of this, even while he worked on her fresh cup of coffee. He was so startled by the question that he nearly dropped the fresh cup, stomach tensing with the effort to keep it together while he set it down. He very much exhaled painfully once he was free of his cargo, though, lips pressed into a thin line to hide the laughter. The poor man had to give himself a minute to calm down before he could even think of responding. "You... use the spoon?" He tried, shoulders quaking gently. The amount of self-restraint he was exhibiting right now was astronomical, truly something Futaba would find praise worthy. "Just... scoop up some rice before you go for the curry."

"I see." Is all she utters as she stares down at the still steaming plate before her. Though it's unclear if she is ignoring Akira's, very poor, attempts at trying to hide his mirth or if it simply goes over her head. Whatever the case she seems content to have a go at the meal she was served. The Kirijo Groups leader switches her legs, recrossing them as she uses a hand to readjust her fresh cup. It could almost be called a nervous habit if not for the fact that she could never have anything of the sort. Not if she wanted to keep the vultures off her back. "No time like the present, I suppose." And after carefully cultivating a perfectly proportionate spoonful, she takes a bite. "C'est Magnifique! This truly is the perfect compliment to your coffee! Neither one is fighting to overpower the other, they're melding perfectly into an entirely new taste!" ~~There go those imaginary jingles again.~~ "This truly is splendid. You really could make a name for yourself with this combination. Though I suppose I should be grateful I'm able to try it personally, this recipe would be a wonderful start to a business." And though she says that she's happily settling into the meal, taking spoonful after elegant spoonful with her coffee with a satisfied smile on her face. Yeah, no other curry would ever be as good.

Akira's anticipation can be cut with a knife by the time she takes a bite. He totally doesn't hear those imaginary jingles that have been chasing him since high school, but his hands make their way into his pockets. At ease, soldier, she likes it. "It's part of a business." He countered. They're literally in the cafe this curry is served at, what does she mean start a business. Actually, he knows what she means. But also, no. While she was occupied, he moved to grab her previous cup to clean it, allowing her some silence while she busied herself with eating. Judging by the way she was going at it, it left Akira to wonder when exactly the last time was she ate. Or, maybe, the last time she ate anything she liked? Not that it was any of his business. He is but a lowly coffee man.

A thoughtful hum is all he gets as the older woman takes her time to savor both her food and drink. It seems like despite her obvious affluence, she'd been bombarded with the same tastes and flavor profiles for a good long while. Or maybe his curry was just that good. The silence between them continues on as she eats, only the occasional clink of dishware rising from her seat before she finishes. A delicate rose patterned handkerchief is produced from her jacket pocket to dab at her, nearly pristinely clean, mouth before she manages a word. "That was splendid, you have my thanks." Genuine as that was she did still have a few questions to ask before letting this boy off the hook. A quick sip of her nearly empty second cup preludes her question. "How long have you been working here? You said you weren't the owner but I can't imagine someone your age taking an apprenticeship to this level."

As there were no other guests to tend to while she ate, Akira occupied himself with other small tasks around the restaurant. Cleaning, tidying, righting this and that, a sweep, the usual upkeep activities performed during down time. He's lost in thought until she finally speaks, head rising from the task at hand to see that she had, indeed, finished her plate. Nice. She liked it. He moved over to retrieve her dish, giving her a quizzical look. Not the most unusual question she'd ever been asked, he supposed, but people usually waited until the second or third visit before asking the more friendly questions. "High school," came the immediate, almost reflexive answer. His tone was even, even as he occupied himself with the task of dealing with dishes. He did not speak again until his hands were dried, mostly so that he could fiddle with his hair while they had their chat. "I started working here when I moved in. What's wrong with wanting to serve coffee?"