Tatara Totsuka, hobbyist and self-proclaimed barista extraordinaire, nearly made a complete ass of himself as he jumped an impressive 3 feet into the air at the sound of his name.
As it happened, he collided with his younger co-worker, Yashiro Isana, and both of them narrowly avoided colliding with the impressive display of china that stacked the walls behind the counter.
The two straightened up, both sheepish and nervously surveying the room for one of their bosses, Seri Awashima. A raven-haired young man was watching them with exasperation.
He inhaled deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose, a look of barely-concealed pain passing over his face.
“I apologise for startling you,” Kuroh Yatogami began, not sounding at all apologetic. “But the morning rush is due to start soon and we cannot afford to be idling.
” Tatara grew even more sheepish at his words, tugging on his bangs nervously.
Shiro edged away from him quietly, trying to avoid Kuroh’s pitiless gaze, but Kuroh turned his head and fixed his colleague with a glare. “The same goes for you.
” Shiro flashed his riend a nervous smile before heading back behind the counter, whistling as he went.
Kuroh’s expression softened as he watched Shiro leave, and Totsuka took the chance to make amends.
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