Toru woke up just after four, the faint chill of the early morning air prompting her to grab a sweater from the back of her chair. The apartment was still quiet, save for the hum of the refrigerator. She shuffled into the kitchen, her bare feet brushing against the cool tiles as she reached for the coffee pot.

Her cousin, Saori, had likely written until just an hour ago. Toru imagined her finally closing her laptop and collapsing onto the couch, where she could sleep through earthquakes, fireworks, and maybe even the apocalypse. Still, Toru moved quietly, out of politeness more than necessity, carefully scooping coffee grounds into the filter as though the sound might somehow wake her cousin.

As the coffee began to brew, filling the room with its comforting aroma, Toru leaned against the counter. Her eyes wandered over the array of notebooks scattered across the kitchen: some closed, others open to half-finished ideas or illegible scribbles. She supposed it was part of the apartment’s charm—Saori’s endless drafts and Toru’s endless recipes, both fighting for space on every flat surface.

The smell of the brewing coffee sparked a thought, and she straightened.

“Hazelnut Brûlé”

The idea came so suddenly that she felt the need to say it aloud, softly, as if testing it. Using the small kitchen torch, she could make a latte with a rich hazelnut syrup and finish it with a caramelized sugar crust, just like crème brûlée. A sip would start with a crack of sugar before melting into velvety coffee.

And what if she paired it with a salted caramel tart? Toru pictured a buttery shortbread crust filled with creamy caramel, topped with just a pinch of flaky sea salt to balance the sweetness. She could already imagine how they’d look—a little rustic, yet elegant enough to make someone pause before taking the first bite.

Excited, she grabbed a mini notebook from the counter, the one she had claimed for her recipes—or at least the one she was trying to keep solely for her recipes. She flipped through pages of her messy scrawl, landing on a blank one.

Hazelnut Brûlé Latte

* Hazelnut syrup

* Espresso

* Steamed milk

* Caramelized sugar crust

Salted Caramel Tart

* Shortbread crust (crumbly but sturdy)

* Soft caramel filling (buttery and rich)

* Flaky sea salt (just a pinch on top)

Her pen moved quickly, the words coming faster than her ability to organize them neatly. She smiled to herself, imagining how it could look on the café’s menu—maybe even as a special for the weekend. “I think this could work,” she murmured, setting the notebook down before taking her first sip of coffee.

As she stood there in the early morning quiet, Toru felt a flicker of pride. Ideas like this reminded her why she loved creating and coffee—it was a way to connect and share small moments of joy. She glanced at the pile of notebooks again, her mind already swirling with new possibilities.

The café smelled of freshly brewed coffee and warm cinnamon, though the air was still heavy with the silence of an unopened morning. Toru sat at the bar, her notebook spread open in front of her, the pen in her hand already leaving dark ink on the page. The world outside the glass windows was waking up—early risers with their gym bags, parents with strollers, and the first rays of sunlight breaking over the city’s skyline. Inside, the café remained a sanctuary.

In the background, Kai moved around the kitchen, the muffled clatter of pans and utensils mixing with the faint hiss of the espresso machine. He hadn’t said much when she walked in. Just a quick nod before disappearing into the back, giving her space.

Toru glanced at her watch. Forty-five minutes until she needed to clock in. She could’ve stayed in bed a little longer, but the weight in her chest had pressed her into motion. Sleeping wasn’t an option when the feeling was there—like an invisible hand gripping her lungs.

She looked down at her notebook and wrote the date neatly at the top of the page. Beneath it, she scrawled:

“This feeling again. It’s not new, but it’s exhausting.”

Her pen hesitated for a moment, then moved again, slower this time.

I’ve been reading about cognitive therapy, and maybe that’s a good place to start. One of the exercises is about cognitive restructuring—recognizing my distorted thoughts. So, here’s the worst-case scenario: I’m sitting here, feeling like something is crushing my chest. I know it’s not physical. I’ve been to the doctor. My heart is fine, my body is fine. But it still feels like I might drop dead, right here, in the café.

She tapped her pen against the edge of the journal, taking a deep breath. The knot in her throat tightened, but she forced herself to keep writing.

But what if I did? What if I had a stroke or a heart attack and died right here? I know it’s morbid, but if that happened… I think I’d be okay with it. Not because I wanted it to happen but because I’d had a good life, even when it wasn’t easy. And now, things are finally moving in a good direction. I have a home. I have a job I love. I get to create things and experiment with new drinks and food. I’m finally starting to build the life I’ve always wanted.

Her fingers tightened around the pen as she paused, staring out the window. The sunlight poured in now, casting golden streaks across the floor.

Maybe that’s the fear, she wrote, her handwriting smaller now. That I’ll screw it up. That this life I’m building will fall apart. But I’ve failed before. I’ve lost things before. And I’ve always managed to come back from it. I have time. I know that. I just wish I understood why this anxiety keeps sitting on my chest, no matter how good things get.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

The pen fell silent, resting on the page. Toru leaned back on the barstool, closing her eyes for a moment. Her mind wandered to high school, to the last few years before she moved in with Saori. Back then, life had been an uphill battle—unsafe at home, struggling to pay for anything, barely making it through some days. Now she had security. She had freedom.

And still, the elephant in her chest lingered.

“Toru?”

Her eyes opened. Julie stood at the door, her bag slung over her shoulder and a scarf wrapped loosely around her neck. She was always put together, even at this hour, her warm smile softening the sharpness of the morning.

“Hey,” Toru said, sitting up straighter. “You’re early.”

Julie grinned as she walked over to the bar, setting her bag down and sliding onto the stool next to Toru. “I swapped out days with Hana, and still wanted to be early enough to steal a latte before I start my day.” She gestured to the journal. “What’re you writing about?”

Toru hesitated, her hand resting protectively over the notebook. Then she sighed, knowing Julie wouldn’t pry too much. “Just… thoughts. You know, that heaviness I get sometimes? I was writing about that. Trying to work through it.”

Julie tilted her head, her brow furrowing slightly. “Still feeling it?”

“Yeah.” Toru looked down at her notebook, her voice quiet. “I keep thinking about how good things are now. How lucky I am to be here, have this job, and live with Saori. And it doesn’t make sense why I still feel like this.”

Julie reached over, placing her hand gently on Toru’s. “It doesn’t have to make sense,” she said softly. “Sometimes feelings don’t. But you don’t have to carry it alone.”

Toru smiled faintly, the corners of her lips trembling. “I know. I just wish I could figure it out.”

Julie squeezed her hand. “Let’s take a moment together. Just breathe. We can say a little prayer, too, if you’d like.”

Toru nodded, her chest tightening again—not from anxiety this time, but from the comfort of knowing someone was there. She closed her eyes as Julie’s hand remained over hers, their shared silence filling the room with quiet peace.

The clatter of a pan from the kitchen broke the moment, and Toru let out a soft laugh, wiping her eyes. “Thanks, Julie.”

“Always,” Julie said, smiling as she stood and adjusted her scarf. “Now, about that latte…”

Toru smiled as she reached for the espresso machine, the warmth in her chest replacing the weight, even if just for a little while.

The kitchen was warm and bustling with the steady rhythm of early morning prep. The grinding melody of the industrial refrigerator mixed with the occasional clatter of utensils as Kai worked, arranging trays of freshly prepped ingredients for the breakfast rush. Along the far wall, a small row of lockers sat tucked near a door that led to a tiny changing area and bathroom. The space was tight but functional, with a well-worn countertop running along one side and open shelving overhead stacked with ingredients, utensils, and labeled containers.

Julie pushed open the swinging door to the back kitchen, juggling her tote bag and coffee as she made her way toward the lockers. She set her drink on the counter, unzipped her bag, and pulled out her apron.

Kai wiped his hands on a towel and leaned against a counter. “Hey, how’s our girl doing out there?”

Julie glanced toward the door leading back to the café, then shrugged. “She’s all right. Just dealing with a lot of stuff in her own head, I think.”

Kai nodded thoughtfully, his expression softening. “Yeah, that sounds about right. My sister was one of her teachers back in the day. She told me Toru had a pretty rough time in high school. Ended up dropping out and homeschooling her last two years.”

Julie blinked, surprised. “Toru? Really? How could she have had a tough time? She’s so stinking cute.”

Kai sighed and crossed his arms. “That was actually part of the problem. She got bullied a lot—mostly by other girls. Some of the guys spread nasty rumors about her too. It got pretty bad.”

“That’s so messed up,” Julie said, shaking her head. “I’ll never understand why girls can be like that.”

Kai chuckled dryly. “It’s not just girls. Women do it too. My wife’s always telling me about the drama at her office. Not enough of us building each other up.”

Julie nodded, still frowning. “That kind of thing sticks with you, though. I guess it explains why she’s… I don’t know, so reserved.”

“Yeah,” Kai agreed. “Besides here, she doesn’t really go anywhere.”

“So she’s basically a recluse,” Julie said, half-joking.

Kai smirked. “Pretty much.”

Julie leaned against the lockers, her expression softening. “You know, she seems really happy when she’s here, though.”

“Yeah,” Kai said, turning back to the counter. “I think the busyness of the café keeps her mind occupied. Plus, she gets to be creative, and that seems to help.”

Julie watched him work for a moment before speaking again. “You know I don’t need this job, right?”

Kai glanced at her, amused. “Yeah, of course, I know that. Why?”

“Why don’t you give her some of my hours?” Julie offered, her tone casual but sincere.

Kai shook his head with a small laugh. “That’s not the issue. I was thinking about offering her a full-time position. She could open and stay through the afternoon.”

Julie’s face lit up. “Oh my gosh, that would be amazing! I’d love to have her here with me during the day. She’s so wonderful to be around. I love her soul.”

“Customers do, too,” Kai said with a nod.

Julie tilted her head. “When are you gonna tell her?”

“In a couple of days,” Kai replied. “I need to sort out some financials first, make sure I’ve got everything covered.”

“Well, like I said, I’d happily give her some of my hours,” Julie said again.

“It’s not about the hours,” Kai said, gesturing to the kitchen. “I’ve been wanting to get some new equipment in here, and I was thinking about letting her go crazy coming up with new sandwiches and breakfast items. You’ve tasted her food, right?”

Julie shook her head. “No, but her coffee is the best out of all of us, and she has way less experience.”

Kai grinned. “Exactly. She’s got a knack for flavors. That lavender matcha latte she made? Not exactly groundbreaking, but the balance was perfect. She’s the one who picked the sandwich to pair with it, and we sold more of those as a combo special than anything else we’ve ever done.”

Julie raised her eyebrows. “I couldn’t believe how many people ordered it—or came back for it.”

“Yeah,” Kai said, his tone proud. “We even had my wife’s friend Charlotte come in and order the drinks for her whole office.”

Julie laughed. “Well, you’ve gotta make sure I’m here when you tell her. I can’t wait to see how excited she gets.”

Kai smiled but added thoughtfully, “I just want to be careful. She’s anxious, and I don’t want her to feel pressured.”

“That makes sense,” Julie said, nodding. “But I think she’ll be super excited. I mean, she’s here early to journal.”

“Exactly,” Kai said, his tone warm.

Julie glanced back toward the café door and smiled. “She’s a good one, Kai. I’m glad we’ve got her here.”

“Me too,” Kai said quietly, returning to his work with a satisfied nod.