Damn it, of course I wanted to see him, but I wasn’t sure today was the right day for that.

I wasn’t in the mood at all. I had to clench my hands and focus on every bottle to keep from dropping them while I put his drink together.

It was maddening.

Today, I had no idea what to make for him, because whatever inspiration I usually had was gone. It had been drowned out by irritation and a stupid anger that gathered at the back of my head like unpleasant heat.

I reached for another bottle to finish the drink, stretching over the crowded shelf, and my fingers brushed a neighboring one, which was enough to knock it over.

But the crash never came.

A broad, fur-covered hand snatched the bottle out of the air with inhuman ease, stopping it inches above the floor.

I froze for half a second, pulse thundering in my ears as Kazuo straightened and held the bottle out to me. He looked at me with that quiet, worried crease in his brow.

“Careful, Luka,” he said it so softly that it seemed to me he knew exactly what was going on with me today.

All I could do was swallow, nod, and pretend I wasn’t falling apart over a damn drink.

On top of that, my face was burning under the mask. It was because I’d screwed up in front of the one person I really didn’t want to look clumsy or incompetent around. But of course, today I was clearly on a roll.

“Pathetic” seemed to be the word of the day.

My hands were still shaking, and the worst part was knowing he probably saw it.

Kazuo, meanwhile, straightened to his full height, crossing his arms over his chest. Even without looking, I could feel the way his attention locked onto the man.

I caught pieces of his expression out of the corner of my eye. It wasn’t friendly, but rather hostile, and a little… assessing.

And then, he broke the silence, saving me from the whole situation.

“Well,” he said. “You’re not exactly the usual type for this place, are you?” He tilted his head. “Look around. Half the regulars can’t stop staring at you. Kinda makes you look like you’re here on inspection duty or something. Except, inspectors don’t wear suits that nice.”

I thought it was weird how irritable Kazuo sounded. He didn't usually behave this way.

“So maybe you’re here for a drink. Except this sure as hell isn’t a fancy lounge. No imported bottles. No velvet stools. And I’m sure you definitely don’t live in our neighborhood.” He raised a brow. “So… what’s the reason? Why come all the way out here?”

The man didn’t answer right away.

As for me, I forced myself to finish the cocktail. Standing there with my back to the man any longer would have been strange, so I finally exhaled, turned around, and slid the glass toward him. Right at that moment, he spoke.

“This place serves unusual cocktails,” he said. “And your bartender always guesses what I’ll want that day.”

Kazuo seemed to frown slightly. “Unusual?” he said. “Luka makes pretty standard drinks.” He glanced at me and, realizing that his tone had only made my tension worse, let out a sharp breath. “Then again, who knows,” he added. “Maybe you’re coming back for the muffins I bake sometimes. That’d be flattering, you know.” A brief pause. “So. You like sweets?”

The sudden shift in Kazuo’s mood clearly threw the man off, and for a moment, he looked genuinely unsure how to respond.

Then he lifted his gaze to me and asked, “What about you, bartender… do you like sweets?”

I froze mid-motion, halfway through returning a bottle to the shelf.

My pulse spiked, but I kept setting the bottle down with care before finally turning to face him again.

Kazuo was waiting, clearly enjoying himself.

“Luka, you love my muffins, don’t you?” he said, lifting eyebrows. “Don’t even try to deny it. Remember those strawberry ones I made last time? You practically cleared the whole tray by yourself.”

I managed a weak smile and forced a shrug. “Maybe,” I said. “But I think you’re exaggerating a bit. Yeah, they were good, and sure, I ate a lot… but I was starving that day. And you kinda overhyped them.”

Kazuo clutched his chest as I’d stabbed him. “Cruel.” He was already halfway turned when someone called his name from across the room. “Duty calls. Don’t steal all my spotlight while I’m gone, Luka.”

And then he vanished, leaving behind a heavy sense of awkwardness.

The man leaned forward slightly. “So. Luka,” he said, like he was testing the shape of it.

Something twisted in my chest.

“Strange,” I murmured. “You claim to watch and notice everything. Yet you didn’t know my name until now?”

There was amusement in his expression. “No one called you that in front of me before tonight. Asking directly would have been… impolite.”

“Impolite?” I echoed. “Why would you think that?”

“You never take off your mask, don’t want to show your face. You pull your hood up the moment you step outside. And every time I’ve asked anything even close to a question about it…” His eyes flicked over me. “You get nervous. So, I assumed you wanted to keep your anonymity. Asking outright would’ve crossed a line.”

I blinked at him.

He wasn’t wrong, actually. What he said made sense.

It was strange how easily he seemed to read the situation, how naturally he said things that made it feel like he already knew me well enough.

“Now you know,” I said a little harshly.

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Now I know.”

I pressed my palms to the counter, trying to make sense of what I was feeling now. Usually, that would have meant giving away something too important, something I would have hated letting slip.

So why was it different this time?

Why did it stir something strange in my chest, something dizzying and intoxicating?

That tiny moment gave me a burst of courage and an excuse to ask the question that had been burning in my head.

“Since you’ve learned mine,” I said, surprised by how even my voice was, “maybe you should give me yours.”

For the first time, he seemed to hesitate. It wasn’t long, but I caught the flicker of pause, as though he was searching for the right answer.

Finally, he said, “You can call me Ed.”

Ed. That was it?

Too short. Men like him wore longer names. Names with weight and history.

Ed was… nothing.

I arched a brow under the mask. “That's all? No last name?”

“You didn’t give me yours.”

I wanted to push. To ask what his family name was. Humans always had more than one. But I stopped myself. If I pressed, I’d have to admit I had nothing more to give in return.

Just Luka.

No last name.

Nothing.

“Ed, then,” I said at last.

His gaze sharpened. It seemed he knew exactly what I’d chosen not to say.

Before I could dwell on it, the air shifted. Laughter at the far end of the bar broke into sharp voices, louder and angrier. I glanced over.

A group of regulars had drawn close around one table.

“…burned it to the ground!” one man exclaimed, slamming his fist against the wood. “The whole place is gone because they let hybrids through the door!”

Then another voice rose: “If they came for that bar, what makes you think they won’t come for this one next?!”

I felt the tremor run through the room.

Kazuo appeared at my side again, drawn by the noise. He leaned against the bar, watching the argument with the same calm expression he always had in situations like this, as if nothing loud, irritating, or dangerous was happening at all.

“Relax. We’re fine here. No one’s coming for us,” he said to the people who were shouting. “This is neutral ground. Everyone knows it.”

That didn’t settle them.

“Neutral ground?” someone scoffed. “Tell that to the ones picking through ashes right now.”

A wave of bitter laughter followed, filling the space with a heavy tension.

I wanted to step in too, wanted to say something, anything, to calm them down, but I couldn’t. I just stood there silently and listened.

And more than anything else, I kept worrying about what the man was thinking as he heard all this. What was going through his head right now?

I stole a quiet glance at him. He was simply sitting there, sipping his drink, with an indifferent expression on his face, as if nothing was happening around us. Was he really not paying attention, or was he pretending?

Kazuo clapped his hands once to draw some attention back. “Enough. Drink your drinks. Shouting won’t change anything.”

Slowly, the noise tapered off, replaced by uneasy laughter and muted talk. But the weight of it remained.

I glanced back at Ed. His eyes met mine. And before I could stop myself, I heard the question leave my lips.

“What about you? What do you think of hybrids?”

Kazuo hiccupped. He stared at me as if I had said something shocking

Ed, on the other hand, said nothing at first. He only watched me. His gaze was so focused, it felt like he was trying to read something off my face.

Finally, he said: “Among the people I know, there’s a certain… consensus.” He paused, as though choosing each word with care. “But me?” His gaze didn’t waver. “I haven’t decided yet.”

It wasn’t the answer I wanted.

And yet something small and fragile flickered inside me. If he hadn’t decided, then he wasn’t one of them. Maybe there was still a chance he wasn’t the kind who hated.

“Not decided…” Kazuo interrupted my thoughts. “Well, I guess that’s better than hating, but if I were you, I’d make up my mind fast. People around here don’t take kindly to that kind of uncertainty.”

Ed turned to him with a long and intense look.

Kazuo didn’t blink. He stared right back, and the tension between them made my skin prickle. For a moment, I wondered if I’d have to step between them.

But then Ed smiled. “I’ll do my best to settle the matter.”

Kazuo exhaled. “Well… we’ll see.” He gave my shoulder a firm pat. “I’ve got something to take care of in the back,” he added and disappeared toward the door, leaving me alone with Ed again.

I didn’t know what else to do, so I kept myself busy with whatever pointless tasks I could find, even scrubbing at stains on the bar that weren’t really there. Anything to look occupied, to pretend I was fine, yet I wasn’t even close.

My head had been a mess for so long, crowded with questions and doubts and everything all at once. And it wasn’t like today had done anything to make that chaos quieter.

What if he decided hybrids weren’t so bad after all? Or what if he went the other way and sided with those who hated them?

And what would happen when he found out about me? If he did find out, would he still come back, or would there be a day when he stopped showing up?

Or maybe something even worse... Maybe that hatred would turn toward me.

Considering he was wealthy, and people like him usually have some kind of power, he would be an especially dangerous enemy.

“Luka.”

I flinched when Ed said my name. It took a moment to drag my thoughts back into place.

“Y-yes,” I said.

He tilted his empty glass toward me, the faintest lift of his hand. “Another.”

I nodded, reaching automatically for the shaker.

“What would you like?” I asked, more quietly.

He studied me for a moment. “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” he said, looking straight into my eyes. “Something I’d like.”

My throat was dry, but I found myself smiling. “All right,” I said. “I’ll see what I can do.”

I’d been so strange lately. All these inner spirals, the mood swings.

Hell with it.

Hell with those negative thoughts.

I turned around and got to work on making a new drink.