The front door creaked open. The bell chimed, and I turned instinctively.

Another customer - the cat woman, once again with a new guy on her arm. A dull sense of disappointment settled in my chest.

I’d been waiting for Ed.

I hoped he’d come. Hoped he’d distract me from the thoughts pressing in from all sides.

But what would happen when he did?

What would he think when he saw the mess on the door?

Would he understand what had happened? Or would he assume we were careless, that we’d let the place fall into disarray? And if he did understand, then what?

He didn’t belong here. Not really. A rich man from a completely different world, who kept coming back here for reasons that were still unclear to me. If he realized we were being targeted, that there was danger circling us now, maybe he’d decide it wasn’t worth it.

Maybe whatever curiosity had drawn him here would vanish the moment he sensed that this place might no longer be safe for him. That associating with hybrids came with a price.

I shook my head.

No.

He would come. He had to.

He would walk through that door, ask for something I thought matched his mood, something I felt he needed that night. And while I would be mixing his drink, he would watch me as if he were testing me.

I knew he would come.

But also, I couldn’t understand why, instead of panicking further, instead of worrying about my own safety, my thoughts kept circling back to him.

It made no sense.

I should have been focused on the bar. On Kazuo. On everything that could go wrong.

Instead, I was stuck on whether he would walk through that door or not.

I didn’t understand my feelings. I didn’t understand why it mattered so much and why the thought of him not coming bothered me.

Why?

A sudden clatter behind the bar broke the spiral. Kazuo was rearranging something on the shelves, setting the bottles down a little too hard, knocking glass against glass. It looked like he was about to drop everything any second.

He was still tense. Still thinking about what had happened.

I watched him for a moment, then, completely unexpectedly, even to myself, I asked: “Kazuo… have you ever spent an entire day thinking about someone?”

He froze. “What kinda question is that?”

“I mean… like a friend,” I added quickly. “Is it normal to think about a friend all the time?”

He looked at me, trying to figure out what the hell I was even talking about. Of course, he was confused; I had interrupted his thoughts with this random question.

Nevertheless, I hoped it would at least distract him.

“Man, I don’t even think about you every day,” he said finally, shaking his head. “And you’re stuck with me most nights.” He leaned on the counter. “So… unless you’re trying to tell me you’re in love with me, nah, that’s not regular ‘friend’ behavior.”

Heat rushed to my face. “What? No! Gross. Don’t even—”

Kazuo chuckled. “Relax. I’m only saying. If somebody’s in your head every day, chances are they’re more than a friend.”

I went quiet.

I didn’t know Ed nearly well enough for him be even my friend. The idea that it could be something more was ridiculous.

To be more than friends, you had to earn it. You had to build something. You had to go through shit that proved you actually mattered to each other.

Right?

But we weren’t like that.

I’d known him for only a short time. If I added up all the hours we’d spent together, it wouldn’t even make two full days, so I barely knew him.

And here I was, with all this chaos blowing up around the bar, worrying about this instead.

Guess I’d really lost my mind.

I glanced at Kazuo and realized he’d been watching me the whole time.

The second I looked back, he smirked. “I’ve got no clue what’s going on in that head of yours,” he said, “or why this is what you’re stressing about right now. But I’m glad you’re not shutting down. Honestly, I was worried about you.”

I gave him a small smile. “Thanks. You don’t have to be. I’ll be fine.”

Kazuo nodded, and I forced myself back into work.

Work helped. For a while, I managed to distract myself and not think about Ed or the potential danger hanging over us.

Closer to the evening, when the bar slowly emptied, I caught Kazuo zoning out again, staring at the door.

I finally gathered my courage and asked: “What about you?”

He flinched a little and looked at me. “What about me?”

“I mean… You okay?”

His gaze drifted back to the door. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be? We’ve dealt with worse. Don’t worry.”

I swallowed. “I… I don’t know. I’m trying to help, I guess... If you need to talk or something. Or, I don’t know... If you need a shoulder.” I trailed off. “I’m here.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Thanks. I appreciate it. But I’ll be fine. I’m not worried about that.” He nodded toward the door. “I’m more concerned about how the hell we’re supposed to clean that.”

I laughed. “It’s fine. We’ll figure it out. There should be something online. Some miracle product for washing nasty crap off doors.”

Kazuo snorted. “Yeah… Screw it. Let’s close up.”