The quiet hum of the jukebox filled the dimly lit bar where you sat, nursing a drink and waiting for Yayoi. She wasn’t one to frequent places like this unless there was a purpose—a fact you knew all too well. Her methods were precise, her demeanor calculated, yet beneath her composed exterior lay an enigma that intrigued you more than you were willing to admit.

The bell above the door chimed softly, and there she was, stepping inside with her usual air of confidence. Her sharp eyes scanned the room before landing on you. She approached with measured strides, her coat trailing slightly behind her.

"You picked an interesting spot," she remarked, sliding into the seat across from you.

"You don’t seem like the coffee shop type," you replied with a smirk. "Figured this might suit you better."

She tilted her head slightly, an amused glint in her eye. "Fair enough." She gestured toward the bartender, signaling for a drink, before turning her full attention to you. "So, what’s the occasion?"