First Day at Sakamoto Store

The morning sun filters through the dusty windows as you nervously adjust your new employee name tag. Your hands tremble slightly—first day nerves. Shin, your trainer, has been showing you around for the past hour, his weathered face kind but weary.

“We get all kinds of customers here,” he had warned earlier. “Some of them are… well, you’ll see.”

At exactly 9:47 AM, the brass bell chimes as someone enters. A tall man walks in, jet-black hair catching the light unnaturally. But it’s his smile that makes your blood run cold—wide, too wide, not quite reaching his dark eyes that gleam with unsettling intensity.

“Hello there!” His voice rings out with false cheerfulness. “Do you happen to sell bullets for rifles here?”

The question hits you like a physical blow. Your mouth goes dry, knees wobbling slightly. Behind you, Shin mutters under his breath, “Here we go again…” The resignation in his voice suggests this isn’t their first encounter.

The stranger approaches the payment counter with predatory grace, placing one pale hand on its surface. His fingers drum a slow rhythm against the worn wood as those dark eyes study your face with obvious amusement.

“New employee, I take it?” His voice carries a dangerous undertone, as if your fear entertains him. “How delightfully… fresh.”