Chuuya

I paused in front of an ugly neon sign hanging on the tinted glass door. It read "OPEN" in loud, gaudy colours. The exterior of the place was decked with a buttercup floral awning; a single, round wooden table in the middle of two chairs resting in its shade.

Not that there was much shade to begin with, since it was 2am in the morning at the moment.

Everything about this place screams "DO NOT ENTER" and I was affronted by its very design.

Nevertheless, my hand was on the door – only because I was curious about the shop that had been under construction for months down my street and its weird sign outside. The white chalk on the black standing chalkboard read "Open 8pm-5am". Did whoever's running this place mix up night and day?

And so, I entered, the small tinkle of a bell welcoming me. I was not surprised to see that my previous doubts haven't been dispelled. What greeted me was a room smaller than it looked from the outside, with tables bathing under an orange light. All of them had a cream tablecloth trimmed with distasteful lacy fringe that sat below napkins and a small, pink printed card. The walls were a sad, faded pink and yellow striped wallpaper and boasts multiple framed paintings of unknown origin and value. Finally, the long wooden counter at the end of the room was sparse with 4 baskets filled with cutlery and a small glass vase containing a single daisy.

Immediately, I felt like exiting. However, before I could turn on my heel and leave, an elderly lady came through a wooden door behind the long counter, peering curiously at me.

"Oh my, do we have a customer here?"

I'm not sure who she was referring to by stating "we". It didn't look like there was anyone else here, working or otherwise, and I most certainly do not see myself as a customer.

But, I refrained from clarifying and distracted myself by passing silent critical judgement on her black and white striped blouse and apron tied around the waist.

"I'm just … passing through," I answered as civilly as possible.

"Did you go to the convenience store, young lad?" She noted the several plastic bags I was holding. "I'm sure you can help yourself to a cup of tea here before you go back home."

I indeed, had just gone to the convenience store and did some grocery shopping – a rare happening these days. It so happens that an efficient new subordinate had just joined the ranks of the Mafia a few days ago. Although she's a newbie, she's already outperforming some of the current staff. I see no reason for another all-nighter when all the due paperwork and reports have been submitted on time. (I say all-nighter but really I mean all-morning-er since most of us sign off work at 5am daily) Frankly, we could use more people like her. Why don't we have more subordinates like her?

In any case, though finding time to shop for my essentials is a rarity, (and thus I usually buy in bulk when I do shop) I'm not about to throw all the normality of my life out of the window now. "It's alright, I'm rather tired so I'll just head home –"

"No!" The lady cried with such force that it stopped me in my tracks as I turned.

"Please, I haven't had a customer in a while. Do indulge me," she laughed lightly, her tone softer. "Do take a seat," she gestured to a table near me, by the window.

My eyes darted from the door to the table and to her. Finally, after a long internal debate, I sighed and sat down awkwardly at the chair. It was wooden and cheap but strangely not uncomfortable. I settled my bags on the floor beside me and picked up the pink card which turned out to be a menu.

I suppose I have time to spare for a small supper … Besides I was feeling particularly good-natured today with the new and capable subordinate under my watch. If this were to happen under normal circumstances, I would have stormed out and probably set fire to the blasted place.

"So, my lad, what will you have?"

"Uhh …" I frowned skeptically at the menu. Most of it comprised of biscuits, cakes, dessert and tea. However, a lot of the flavours were unfamiliar to me. Skimming through it carefully, I finally found something familiar.

"Lady Grey," I answered, and after a pause, I added, "please."

The elderly lady smiled. "How much sugar would you like?"

"Three."

She gave a nod. "Any tidbits to go with?"

"Umm …"

"I highly recommend the chiffon cake," she said cutting in which put me off slightly.

I waved a hand to signal that I was fine with that and she promptly headed through the back door to what I can only assume to be a kitchen.

A moment later, the tea was served to me in a simplistic ceramic cup with a slice of fluffy chiffon cake on the side.

I took off my hat to place on my lap, eyeing the bronze, almost amber-coloured liquid, then lifted the cup to my nose. It smelt light and fruity, not at all a bad aroma. Finally, I placed it to my lips and sipped carefully. The warm liquid with subtle notes of orange and raspberry danced on my taste buds.

I liked it.

I picked up the fork that was provided and took a small bite of the cake. Like the tea, it was light and sweet, the lemon flavor complimenting raspberry.

With much surprise, I had finished my small snack faster and with more enjoyment than expected.

I looked to the lady with a mixture of indignation, disbelief and awe. "What is this place?"

"Why," she answered with a chuckle. "It's the Late Night Café!"

Disgruntled, I put down a few dollar bills on the table and put on my hat. "I … you should have – there wasn't a sign outside!"

"Indicating that this was a café?" The old lady looked at me as if I were the surprise here. "Wasn't it quite obvious?"

No, it wasn't! The entire premise just looks shady! Feeling betrayed by the whole design of the place (Such a shitty décor shouldn't come with good food!), I decided not to answer.

I stood up angrily, almost knocking the chair over, picked up my groceries and went to the door without another word.

"I take it that you enjoyed yourself?" The lady called, stopping me momentarily. "Well, come back anytime if you feel like a late night snack!"

Unable to restrain myself any longer, I yelled in annoyance, "I'll come back when this place is properly decorated! What an insult!"

Still fuming, I exited and strode back home. My earlier good-naturedness had all but dissipated.

The next morning, I didn't feel sorry when I commanded my available subordinates to spar with me without their weapons.

Dazai

I highly considered skipping out on today's case or ditching it onto someone else. Unfortunately, Ranpo and Yosano-sensei are handling 2 cases already and Atsushi-kun, Kyouka-chan and Kenji-kun are investigating a robbery right now. I had already begged Tanizaki-kun to take this case on too but he and Naomi had a date … and well, Naomi-san gets so scary when I attempt to take Tanizaki out of her sight for just even a second. Geez …

Of course, there's Kunikida-kun as well but he's not too happy right now. He's too busy finishing my late paperwork.

I guess it really all comes down to me to get the job done. Godammit … why am I always doing most of the work?

Kunikida must have specially set this one up for me to punish me. The bastard. I never thought I'd ever come this close to this place again.

Already turning round the corner to this street was making my head ache.

But the past was the past, and as irritating as it might have been, it shouldn't interfere with the present. My present.

I checked the location of the place against a map I had downloaded on my phone and walked towards it. After 10 minutes, I had finally found the place. Or at least, what I had assumed to be the place …

The tinted glass door had a sign that read "CLOSED" in bright, vibrant colours. The exterior of the place was decked with a buttercup floral awning; a single, round wooden table in the middle of two chairs resting in its shade …

For which I was thankful for. I hurriedly sat in one of those chairs, fanning myself. The heat of the afternoon was killing me. Though, unfortunately, not literally.

I was pleasantly surprised. I had thought this would be a dingy old café but from what its exterior suggests, it looked more like a quaint, cool haunt. The tinted glass added so much mystery to the place while the "CLOSED" sign piqued curiosity about what the café had to offer! It was just beckoning me to enter!

Sadly, it seemed like I was too early. I had also noticed the words "Open 8pm-5am" written in white chalk on a black chalkboard outside the door. It was currently 4pm so I had a few hours to spare.

I opened a document on my phone and consulted its contents carefully. According to them, the lady running this place also lived here. Her husband had died many years ago and left her with her estranged daughter. Mentally, I ran over whatever information I needed to acquire from her …

Then, I sighed heavily. This was such boring and tedious work. To be honest, this case shouldn't even be handled by the Armed Detective Agency. But who had expected the police in our neighbouring city – Kawasaki, to be so useless that they'd ask us for help? And oh, how cruel were they to approach President personally, knowing he would be unable to refuse such a pitiful request!

In the heat and frustration of it all, I had effectively fallen asleep until I felt something ruffle my hair and poke at me.

"Ow – Ouch!" I cried out as I stirred awake, slapping away whatever that was stabbing my cheek.

As I sat up, I noticed an elderly lady standing in front of me. She was wearing a floral blouse and white apron. I thought she matched the awning overhead us.

Looking around, I realised that I had been sleeping for a few hours since it appeared to be rather dark.

"Are you lost, young lad?" The lady spoke in a kindly voice.

I certainly wish I was. "Pfft! Regrettably, I know this place too well."

She looked at me with interest. "Oh? Then you must know this café is new. Why don't you come in since you're here? We're open now."

I followed her into the café, failing to see however, why she addressed herself as "we". There didn't seem to be any other staff. The stark vacantness of this place was astonishing. Although the interior was filled with tables and chairs in a warm lighting, the sheer emptiness of it made it look a lot colder and spacious in a hollow sort of way.

"I'm sorry," she apologised as she headed to the counter. "I don't get many customers so it's a little dusty …"

I scratched my chin. Perhaps more neon signs placed outside the café would attract people?

"But that table there has been recently cleaned," the lady pointed to one by the window. "You can sit there if you like."

Obligingly, I sat and picked up what seemed to be a pink card. It turned out to be a menu.

"How did you find me?" I asked out of curiosity as I scanned the food items listed.

"I came out at 8 to change the sign outside. You were a little early if you had planned on visiting this place," she smiled in reply.

"Ah! Oh well. This is a late night café after all!"

"Oh! Exactly!" The old lady beamed, clasping her hands. "That's actually what it's called!"

I turn my eyes back to the menu. Nothing really interests me …

"Would you happen to have coffee?" I spoke at last.

The old lady looked confused. "Coffee? Well … I do, but … I can't exactly roast any beans for you."

"That won't matter," I said lightly. And it didn't.

"Then, how would you like it?"

"Long and black, thank you."

I watched as the old lady gave a nod and went into a back door behind the sparse, wooden counter before turning my attention to other things. My eyes scanned the vicinity. There were barely any personal belongings besides a few interesting paintings and a mechanical, old-fashioned clock on the wall behind the counter. It read 8.20.

I should wrap this up soon so that I can go home earlier.

A moment later, the lady came out with a simplistic, porcelain cup of steaming coffee and set it at my table.

"Hungry?"

"Not really," I replied, taking a sip.

All at once, I was utterly blown away by how amazing it was. "Lady," I started, already finishing half my cup and burning my tongue, "how did you make this?"

"Oh you know. Powder, hot water … dark chocolate."

Not a bad combination at all. I nodded in approval. "It's brilliant!"

"Why, thank you," she chuckled. "It's always been my dream to open a successful café! And what's a successful café without good food?"

I sighed wistfully now. "And it's always been my dream to commit a double suicide with a beautiful lady! But sadly, I cannot find one that is willing …"

"Will I qualify?"

I looked up in shock, staring at the elderly woman. That's right! I hadn't mentioned age at all! So she did in fact, qualify! "Oh, oh my … are you possibly offering – I mean …"

She, however, started to laugh at my spluttering. "I'm just pulling your leg. I still want to live my dream before I go."

"At this age?" I blurted out without thinking.

"It's never too old to live your dream! It gives you something to look forward to in life!" The old lady lectured wisely, waving a finger at me. Then, with a kinder smile, she looked me in the eye. "Perhaps you just haven't found something to look forward to yet."

There was something unsettling about both her gaze and her words. I tore my own eyes away to look at the remaining swirling dark liquid in my cup.

"Perhaps," I answered involuntarily, quietly.

I knew that already. How could I not? I've been trying to search for a reason to live for as long as I could remember. In fact, that's fundamentally why I am here right now.

I glanced at the clock. It was 8.45.

"I'm sure this place will become successful in no time!" I said brightly, changing the topic. "You have such great coffee … and food, I'm sure, too! I'm envious of your family."

A faraway look now crossed the old lady's face. "I … I used to make coffee like this for my husband. He liked it black too, just like you."

I rested my elbows on the table and propped up my face with a hand. "You used to make coffee for your husband?"

"He died," she hesitated. "He was a cop … shot by the Port Mafia."

Suddenly, a bell tinkled and a couple walked in, linked by the arm. They stared around at the place curiously. The old lady straightened up in surprise, snapping out of her thoughts.

"Well, my condolences." I attempted to sound as sincere as I possibly could. Walking up to her, I dropped a few bills in her hand. "Thank you for the coffee."

Then, I swiftly made my way out. It seemed like my time was up.

A/N: I know things may very random with all the original characters, but don't worry, the Soukoku won't get lost in the story of the fic! The second chapter will move faster, I promise!