Toru had always believed healing was a linear process, but as she parked her grandma’s old ’68 Bronco in a quiet Tacoma lot, she knew the weight of her past would never untangle itself so easily.
The Bronco rattled to a stop, its engine sputtering into silence. Toru pulled the keys from the ignition and let them dangle in her hand, the cool metal pressing into her palm. Outside, the crisp morning air greeted her, biting at her cheeks as she stepped onto the uneven pavement. Her breath hung in the stillness, each puff briefly visible before dissolving into the cold.
At 4 a.m., Tacoma was eerily calm, the streets empty except for the occasional car coasting by in the distance. Across the road, the café’s warm glow seeped through its frosted windows, a welcoming contrast to the dark sky above. She adjusted her coat, the faint rustle of leaves from a nearby tree breaking the silence as she made her way toward her sanctuary.
The KikiTori Café is snug between an old bookstore with peeling letters and a flower shop that still manages to make dried bouquets look inviting. The café has a worn, cozy aesthetic, with big bay windows framed by white shutters that look like they’ve been painted a hundred times. Above the door hung a wooden sign with the words KikiTori Café, the hand-painted letters starting to fade.
Planters filled with dried flowers lined the front, the kind of thing that felt intentional but also like they’d been forgotten for a few weeks. Toru glanced at the frosted glass on the door as she walked up. The design showed a coffee cup with steam curling up and, in the middle, a little circle with broken chains coming out of either side.
Pulling out her phone to check the time as she stepped to the door.
3:57 a.m.
She stared at the glowing numbers and took a deep breath.
Okay, that should give me enough time. This is my first time getting a drink on the board, and I don’t want to screw it up. She thought as her fingers trembled slightly, fumbling for the key Kai had given her. The lock clicked, and she pushed the door open, the faint scent of roasted coffee and cinnamon greeting her as she stepped inside.
The café was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of the pendant lights above the bar—Kai’s habit of leaving them on ensured the space was never entirely dark for early arrivals.
The layout was open but inviting, with four tables spaced evenly on each side of a central aisle leading straight to the back counter. Waist-high bookshelves stood on either side of the aisle, subtly marking the transition to the ordering area. Nestled against the backs of these shelves, leather couches offered cozy spots to relax, their rich burgundy tones adding to the café’s charm.
Wide wooden bars flanked the entrance''s bay windows. Paired with oversized leather swivel stools, they offered a perfect perch for watching the city wake up, the faintest hints of dawn filtering through the glass.
The counter spanned most of the back wall, and its warm wood was polished smoothly from years of use. Espresso machines sat just low enough to remain out of sight, leaving the surface clear for customers. To the side, a tall pastry case stood ready for the morning crowd.
Near the bar, a compact wood-burning stove perched on pale stone bricks, unlit but prepped with kindling Kai had stacked the night before. It wouldn’t take much to bring its warmth to life.
Each table was set with a mason jar containing a small, battery-operated candle, but none were switched on.
The café had an effortless charm.
Behind the counter stretched jars of syrups, labeled neatly in Julie’s handwriting. A chalkboard menu hung above, empty for now except for the usual headings—Espresso, Specials, Seasonal. Today, her drink would finally take its place among the specials, and the thought made her chest tighten.
Setting her bag on a stool, Toru walks through the kitchen''s swinging double doors to flip on the lights, which illuminate the small tables and mismatched chairs scattered across the floor.
She walked behind the counter, tying her apron with quick, nervous hands. Pulling out the ingredients she had meticulously written down the night before, she whispered, “Iced matcha latte with honey and lavender. Keep it simple. Keep it balanced.”
Toru worked in focused silence, measuring the matcha powder, frothing milk, and blending in the honey and lavender syrup she had made from scratch a day earlier. She tasted the first attempt and immediately frowned. There was too much lavender. She scribbled a quick note and started over.
When she looked up, the neat pile of used cups beside the espresso machine had grown significantly. The fireplace crackled softly in the background, its warmth creeping into the room''s edges.
On her seventh—or maybe eighth—attempt, Toru took a sip and paused. This one was… better. The flavors didn’t fight each other. Instead, they settled on her tongue with a calming harmony that tasted right.
She let out a calming breath, leaning back against the counter. “Okay. This is it.”
The sound of the door creaking open startled her, and she turned to see Kai stepping inside, a wool scarf wrapped around his neck. He raised an eyebrow when he spotted her.
Kai was of average height and build, with perpetually tan skin, floppy dark hair, and warm hazel eyes. Though still young, faint lines near his eyes and mouth hinted at years of easy smiles and laughter. His laid-back, approachable demeanor made everyone feel at ease.
“Toru? Beating me to my café?” His gaze shifted to the pile of cups by the espresso machine, and he smirked. “What’s this, an all-nighter?”
She flushed, rubbing the back of her neck. “I wanted to make sure it was perfect…”
Kai walked over, grabbed one of the clean cups, and poured himself a taste of her final attempt. He took a long sip, his expression thoughtful, before nodding.
“Not bad. Balanced, smooth. This could calm anyone down… except maybe you.”
Toru groaned. “I know, I know. It’s ironic, right?”
“How much sleep did you get? An hour?” Kai laughed, fully aware of the constant buzz of anxiety she lived with.
“I got like a solid four-hour run,” Toru replied, rubbing her eyes.
“Well, hey, that’s something. At least you got some sleep. Alright, I’m gonna get started on the food. Let’s get this day rolling.”
The café didn’t open until five, but they rarely saw customers before 5:30, giving Toru plenty of time to clean and prep.
The door opened again, letting in Hana, her usual cheerful energy filling the room like sunlight. She set down her bag and immediately noticed the stack of cups. Hana was in her early 20s, with sandy brown hair that framed her face and dark, expressive eyes. Her full, pouty lips gave her a naturally soft look.
“Whoa. Did you start a coffee empire while we were sleeping, or is this your version of stress relief?” She asked.
Kai chuckled. “I told her the same thing. Overthinking a drink to calm people down is peak Toru.”
Hana took a sip of the drink and raised her eyebrows approvingly. “Okay, this is actually amazing. But seriously, Toru, do you even have a life? You’re always here first. Do you, like… live in the stockroom?”Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.
Toru waved her off, hiding her embarrassment by busying herself with wiping the counter. “I just like it here. That’s all.”
Kai and Hana exchanged knowing glances but didn’t push further. The café was starting to warm up from the fireplace and the lively conversation between the three of them. Outside, the sky began to lighten, hinting at the start of another day.
Toru wiped her hands on her apron, nervous energy bubbling up again as she finished Hana''s drink. The barista tilted the cup, inspected the light green color, and took a small sip. She raised her eyebrows in approval before smirking at Toru.
“So, what’d you name it?” Hana asked, leaning on the counter.
Toru froze. “Name it?” She hadn’t even thought that far.
“I, uh…” Toru stammered, scratching the back of her head. “I didn’t name it.”
Hana gasped in mock offense, setting the cup down dramatically.
“Wait, wait, wait—you mean to tell me you probably spent the last three days perfecting this thing, made like a dozen of them at home, came in at four a.m. to make another dozen times—and you didn’t bother to name it?!”
Toru flushed. “I was focused on getting it right!”
“Unacceptable.” Hana crossed her arms. “You can’t serve a drink without a name. That’s, like, Barista 101. Kai, help me out here.”
Kai, leaning against the counter, sipping his coffee. “How about *‘Matcha Madness’? Or better yet—‘The Anxiety Eraser.’”
Hana snorted. “The Anxiety Eraser, huh? That sounds like something from a pharmaceutical ad.”
Kai shrugged, his grin widening. “Fits the vibe, though, don’t you think?”
Hana tapped her chin, pretending to consider it. Then she snapped her fingers. “Got it! ‘Zen Blossom!’”
Kai let out a bark of laughter, and Toru couldn’t help but giggle, the tension in her chest loosening.
“That’s settled, then,” Hana declared, grabbing the lilac-colored chalk. “I’ll do the honors.”
She carefully wrote the name on the board with a flourish, adding little doodles of an iced latte and a steaming cup. Her artistic touch brought the name to life, the lilac and white chalk popping against the black surface.
Kai patted Toru on the shoulder. “Well, it’s official. You’re on the board!”
Toru stared at the chalkboard, a small, proud smile creeping across her face.
Hana nudged her playfully. “See? It’s not that complicated. And hey, it’s not permanent. I’ve had plenty of drinks no one liked. But this?” She gestured to the pile of cups. “This is good. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
The bell above the door jingled, and all three looked up to see one of their first regulars of the day.
“Morning, Mr. Moro,” Hana called, her tone cheerful. Mr. Moro was an older man with sharp features and a mischievous glint in his eye. He was a retired construction company owner turned writer with a penchant for trying every new special. He was both a loyal customer and the harshest critic in Toru’s eyes. “Well, if he likes it, you’re golden,” Hana whispered, leaning toward Toru with a grin.
Toru’s stomach flipped as Mr. Moro approached the counter. “I saw the board,” he said, adjusting his scarf. “But it’s freezing out there, so I’ll take it hot.”
As she whisked the matcha and steamed the milk, her mind wandered. He’s been coming here for years. If he doesn’t like it… No, stop. If he likes it, you let it go.
She poured the hot drink into a cup, added a delicate swirl of foam, and handed it to Mr. Moro with both hands, bowing her head slightly. “Be nice,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “But also be honest.”
Mr. Moro raised the cup to his lips, taking a long, thoughtful sip.
“Yuck,” he said flatly, his expression unreadable.
Toru’s heart sank until she saw the playful look in his eye. He smiled, setting the cup down. “This is one of the best specials you’ve had in a while. The lavender—just the smell of it reminds me of home.” He winked at her. “Good job, kid.”
Toru’s shoulders sagged with relief as Hana pumped a fist behind her. “Toldja!”
Mr. Moro chuckled. “Big day for you, huh? Don’t worry; I’m a coffee snob, but I can’t even find anything to complain about here. You’ll be fine.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying.” Kai offered, heading back into the kitchen.
As Mr. Moro turned to leave, Hana bumped her hip against Toru’s, grinning. “See? You worry over nothing. You’ve got this.”
Toru felt a deep sense of accomplishment for the first time that morning. Her name—or at least, her drink—was officially on the board, and she couldn’t help but smile.
***
The morning rush was in full swing, and Toru had hit her stride. The rhythmic sounds of steam wands hissing, cups clinking, and orders being called out filled the café. She moved fluidly, her nerves from earlier replaced by a steady focus as she crafted drink after drink. Whether iced or hot, her special was proving popular.
“Two iced lattes and one hot Zen Blossom!” Hana called out from the counter, her voice barely rising over the bustle of customers.
“Got it!” Toru replied, pulling shots of espresso while frothing milk in perfect synchronization.
The bell above the door jingled, and a cold gust swept in as Julie entered. She was wrapped in a puffy black running jacket, leggings, and bright orange trail shoes, her black hair tied back in a ponytail. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, and her olive skin glowed with the warmth of exertion. A little runny nose gave away just how brisk her run had been.
“Morning, you overachiever,” Hana greeted, her voice teasing.
Julie stepped up to the counter, still catching her breath. Toru smiled as she looked up. “What can I get you?”
Julie leaned on the counter, grinning. “I’ll take the special. But honestly, I want it even more now because I saw Mr. Moro on my run, and he said it was fantastic.”
“You saw Mr. Moro?” Toru asked, blinking in surprise.
“Yep!” Julie nodded enthusiastically. “I even tried a sip of his drink.”
Hana dramatically dropped the rag she’d been holding. “What?! You’re swapping lips with customers now?”
Julie rolled her eyes, playfully dismissing her. “Relax, it’s Moro. He’s like family! I know he doesn’t have cooties, you dork. But seriously—the smell of it was so good it made me run harder just to get here.”
The group burst out laughing as Toru prepared Julie’s drink. “You’re too much,” Toru said, shaking her head.
Julie smiled back and slid her bag onto the barstool, pulling out her neatly folded uniform. When Toru handed her the drink, Julie had slung her jacket over the chair and balanced her uniform on her arm.
Julie took a sip, closed her eyes, and let out an exaggeratedly dramatic “Mmmm!”
Then, before Toru could react, Julie leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Nice work, babe.”
“Oh my gosh! You just put your lips on everyone!” Hana said.
Julie smirked. “Jealous?”
Hana crossed her arms. “Kind of.”
With a mischievous gleam in her eye, Julie set her drink down, walked over to Hana, and dramatically cupped her face. Before Hana could react, Julie planted a big, exaggerated kiss on her lips.
“There,” Julie said triumphantly. “Now you’ve kissed me, Toru, and Mr. Moro... you’re welcome.”
Julie picked up her drink and sauntered toward the back to change into her uniform, laughing as she went.
Just then, Kai walked out of the stockroom with a box of supplies. “What’s all this talk about kissing?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Julie kissed Kai on the cheek without missing a beat, leaving him wide-eyed and dumbfounded.
Toru burst out laughing so hard she had to set down her cup to keep from spilling it.
Hana rolled her eyes and muttered sarcastically, “Slut.”
Julie’s voice rang back cheerfully. “You love it!”
“Well, if your drink is making people kiss each other, I guess you’re doing something right,” Kai said, grinning.
Toru couldn’t help but feel the warmth of the moment pushing away the last of her anxiety.
Julie returned moments later from the back dressed in her uniform—a crisp white shirt under the café’s signature lilac apron, her ponytail now neatly adjusted. She grabbed a rag and a small trash bin and immediately began her routine of wiping down tables, her usual cheerful energy lighting up the room. As she worked, she hummed a tune under her breath, pausing now and then to flash a smile or chat briefly with customers.
Toru admired her. Julie’s effortless joy and confidence seemed to fill the café, a quality Toru wished she had.
She felt so grounded and comfortable in her own skin.
Something Toru hadn’t quite figured out yet.
Kai’s voice carried over the low hum of conversation. “Alright, I’m going to start prepping for the morning rush.”
The 9 a.m. crowd was the busiest time of the day, and most were either on their way to work or taking their first breaks. The café typically had food pairings for people who didn’t want to overthink this time of day and wanted something quick and potentially new to them.
“Got any ideas for a pairing with the drink?”
Hana leaned on the counter, her chin resting in her hand. “Hmm, maybe something sweet to bring out the lavender. Like those honey-glazed croissants you did last month?”
Julie piped up from across the room, still wiping a table. “Ooooh, or something with citrus! Lemon bars, maybe? Lavender and lemon would be a vibe.”
Kai nodded thoughtfully. “Not bad. Lemon bars could work.” He turned to Toru, who was fiddling with the espresso machine. “What about you, Toru? You’re the drink star; what would you pair with it?”
Toru blinked, caught off guard. “Oh, um… maybe…” She paused, thinking. “Shortbread? Something simple but buttery. It wouldn’t overpower the flavors in the drink.”
Kai impressed. “I like it. Simple but classy. Very you.”
Hana smirked, chiming in. “Classy, huh? I would’ve said safe.”
Julie tossed her rag into the bin. “Don’t listen to her, Toru. Shortbread is perfect. It’s like the reliable sidekick to the drink’s superhero.”
Kai chuckled as he jotted down their ideas on a notepad. “Alright, lemon bars, honey croissants, and shortbread are on the list. Thanks, ladies.”
Julie gave a mock bow. “Always happy to contribute to culinary greatness.”
Toru allowed herself a small smile, her earlier nerves melting away in the camaraderie. She was starting to feel like part of the team, even if she didn’t have Julie’s cheerfulness or Hana’s quick wit. As she turned back to the espresso machine, the morning rush continued, the café buzzing with warmth and energy.