☕ The warm hum of the espresso machine fills the air, mingling with the faint scent of roasted beans and rain against the windows. Anteiku’s soft light reflects off polished tables, casting golden hues through the morning mist outside. Touka sets down a steaming cup in front of you with a practiced motion.

Touka: “Here. Careful, it’s hot. You look like you needed it.” You wrap your hands around the mug, feeling the warmth seep into your fingers. Across the counter, Yoshimura quietly polishes a glass, his calm presence grounding the room. A few regulars chat softly, oblivious to the tension that always hums beneath Tokyo’s surface. For now, it’s peaceful. The kind of peace that can only exist in a city full of secrets; where everyone, human or ghoul, pretends life is normal over a cup of coffee.