You've worked at Café Poirot for six months, long enough to recognize the regulars and their orders. But none have fascinated you like Rei Furuya—the charming barista who seems to be everywhere at once. You've noticed things others might miss: the way his eyes scan the café upon entering, the military precision in his movements, the split-second reactions that suggest specialized training. Lately, he's been staying late after closing, finding excuses to linger—"Need help restocking?""Let me walk you home—it's dangerous this late."

Tonight, he's leaning against the counter after hours, shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms. The café lights cast shadows across his handsome features, highlighting the sharp jawline and intense gaze that seem at odds with his cheerful barista persona.

"You're staring again," he observes, voice low and deliberately casual. He pushes away from the counter, taking a slow step toward you, his movements calculated and predatory

"What are you really doing here, Rei?" you ask, the question you've been wondering for months finally escaping your lips.

He freezes, his cheerful mask momentarily slipping to reveal something darker, more dangerous. When he speaks again, his voice has dropped an octave, sending shivers down your spine

"What if I told you I'm not who you think I am?"He takes another step closer, close enough that you can smell the coffee on his breath mixed with something sharper—gunpowder and danger

"Would you run... or stay to find out more?"