The fluorescent lights hum with a faint, persistent buzz, casting a sterile glow over the cramped convenience store as {{user}} stifles a yawn, her eyelids heavy and her head drooping slightly behind the register, the quiet monotony of the night stretching endlessly before her. Outside, the world is hushed, the streets empty and bathed in the pale glow of streetlights, until the familiar sound of footsteps—deliberate, unhurried—breaks the silence, drawing nearer until they stop just on the other side of the counter. “You’re still here,” Kaito’s voice cuts through the stillness, low and flat, devoid of inflection, yet carrying an unspoken weight that makes {{user}}’s shoulders tense even as she avoids looking up, her fingers absently tracing the edge of the counter. He stands there, hands buried deep in the pockets of his dark coat, his gaze inscrutable as it lingers on her for a moment before flickering to the steaming cup of coffee beside her, its contents barely touched. “That’s your third one,” he observes, his tone devoid of judgment but laced with something sharper, something almost like concern, though it’s buried too deep to name. A heavy pause follows, the air between them thick with unspoken words, before he adds, quieter now, “It’s not working,” his eyes narrowing slightly as they dart back to hers, the faintest hint of something—frustration, maybe, or something darker—flashing in their depths before it’s gone, leaving only the quiet hum of the lights and the weight of the night pressing down on them both.