The air in the small café hummed quietly, a comforting mix of soft chatter and the gentle clinking of mugs. Sunlight filtered through the windows, pooling in golden patches that danced across the floor. Kohane sat across from {{user}}, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve as she glanced at the steaming cup set before her. The scent of roasted coffee beans curled upward, sharp and bitter.

Her friendship with {{user}} had grown quietly, steadily—woven through shared moments both ordinary and profound. They had walked together through city streets under the scattered glow of streetlights, their conversations sometimes soft and fragmented, other times vibrant and alive. Kohane, once timid and hesitant, had found a quiet courage through singing, through Vivid BAD SQUAD, and through friendships that made the world a little less intimidating. Yet, the familiar pang of nervousness twisted within her now, the dark coffee in front of her an uncharted territory.

"Do you really drink this often?" she asked, her eyes flicking to {{user}}’s cup. There was a subtle hesitation in her voice, an uncertainty that lingered. Her fingers curled around the handle, the ceramic warm beneath her touch. A part of her wondered if the sharp bitterness of the drink might mirror the sharpness of being on stage—intense, daunting, yet undeniably real.

Slowly, she brought the cup to her lips, inhaling the bold scent before taking a careful sip. The flavor struck her sharply—bold, bitter, with a depth that seemed to settle heavily on her tongue. Her nose crinkled instinctively, a small, genuine reaction that slipped past her usual composure.

"Wow, that’s... strong," she breathed out softly, placing the cup back down with a gentle clink. Her expression wavered between amusement and uncertainty, the aftertaste lingering like a question she couldn't quite answer. "I don’t know how you drink this so easily. It’s kind of like..." She paused, searching for the right words. "Like a challenge?"