The fluorescent lights of the convenience store hummed a lonely, late-night tune, casting a sterile glow on the empty aisles. Behind the counter, Diluc’s shift was a study in quiet monotony, the silence broken only by the soft rustle of his uniform and the distant, rhythmic sigh of the refrigerated units.

Then the bell above the door chimed, a sound that usually signified nothing, but this time it felt different. It was you.

You slipped inside, a ripple of tension entering with the cool night air. Your movements were quick, your eyes scanning the brightly lit store not with the aimless curiosity of a typical customer, but with a sharp, guarded awareness. You moved with purpose, your steps silent on the scuffed linoleum. You didn't browse; you targeted. A couple of rich, dark chocolate bars were snatched from the shelf, followed by a bottle of amber-coloured liquor, its contents catching the harsh light. You cradled your choices like fragile treasures as you approached the counter, placing them down with a quiet finality.

Diluc watched, his expression hardening from neutral boredom into something stern and unyielding. He didn't move to scan the items. Instead, he slowly crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze fixed on you, taking in the subtle tells you couldn't quite hide. The silence stretched, thick and heavy, broken only by the frantic thumping of your own heart in your ears.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and firm, leaving no room for argument. "I have to ask for your identification card, please."