The Bell and the Dove
A bell rings. A friendly greeting is called as a woman clutching a black, leather-bound book enters, her hand barely covering the golden title on the spine. Stomping the snow off her boots, she loosens her scarf and steps inside the shop proper. She smiles with sparkling blue eyes at the girl in a plain black uniform who has come to take her order; a long black with sugar. She chooses a seat by the window, siting in the warm sunshine and opens her book to a page marked by a faded, red leather bookmark.
Beans are prepared, water boils; coffee brews.
A sweet, yet bitter aroma fills the room. Hot, dark liquid is poured into a white china cup rimmed with gold and brought to the woman's table by the window. The woman looks up from her novel with another smile on her face and offers her thanks. Her smile gives way to a focused, yet relaxed expression as she returns to her reading, occasionally sipping her long black with sugar. She remarks at the quality of the drink to the man behind the counter, claiming it to be the best coffee in Tokyo. His gap-toothed smile shows his gratitude for the compliment, even if it might not be the truth.
A bell rings. Both old man and young woman look up as the second customer of the day enters, brushes off the white powder he brought with him and hangs up his coat. A young man with short, dark hair calls a greeting, which is answered by the man behind the counter. The woman returns to her book, turning the page. The young man takes a seat in a booth on the far side of the shop and begins to read the days newspaper left on the table. He orders his favourite breakfast, a cappuccino and two pieces toast with butter and a sweet, blueberry jam.
Beans are prepared, water boils; coffee brews.
Fresh bread is toasted to perfection and spread with soft butter and the unusual jam. Coffee is poured into another white china and gold-rimmed cup and is brought along with warm toast to the young man by the serving girl in a simple, yet elegant, black uniform. He looks up from his newspaper, takes the plate eagerly and smiles genuinely at the girl who returns the gesture and bows before taking her leave.
A bell rings. A small child enters enthusiastically, her sister trailing behind and apologising for the snow spread by the child. The man behind the counter greets the two as one would old friends, with a warm smile and the informalities that come with closeness. The older sister takes a seat near the young man on the far side of the shop as the child runs to hug the man behind the counter, barely coming up to his waist. The old man pats her on the head and strikes up a brief conversation about the past week. The child returns to her sister who orders a tall mocha, while the child orders a hot chocolate and begs her sister for a muffin. The older sister reluctantly agrees and tells the plainly dressed serving girl to add a chocolate chip muffin to the bill.
Beans are prepared, water boils; coffee brews.
A familiar aroma fills the shop, and tall mug is filled with the sweeter mocha. A smaller mug receives its own filling of hot cocoa. The woman by the window finishes her long black with sugar, marks the page with her red leather bookmark and nods her thanks to the man as she leaves a bank note worth slightly more than her coffee on the table.
A bell rings. The young man finishes his toast, wiping the crumbs and jam from his mouth with a white napkin with a satisfied gesture, but subsequently comes across a shocking story in the newspaper. He spits his mouthful of cappuccino, green eyes wide in disbelief and horror. The old man with the gap-toothed smile behind the counter eyes him curiously, one eyebrow raised. The child and her sister take no notice; they are lost in conversation about the child's plans for school this coming year. The young man apologizes as he wipes up the mess with another white napkin, and the old man behind the counter accepts with a grin and a small chuckle. The serving girl in the plain black uniform delivers the mocha and hot cocoa to the two sisters, and with a bow takes her leave, walking past the young man to ask what story had caused such shock.
"CCG to make move in 20th ward, raid to commence on suspected ghoul organisation hiding in a local coffee shop by the name of Anteiku"
The child and her sister take notice now, their comparatively pointless conversation stopping as soon as the last word was spoken. The sister gasps and the child's brown, formally calm, eyes open wide in fear and confusion. The old man with the missing teeth drops a plate and dishes clatter to the floor. The old man apologizes as the serving girl in the uniform sweeps up the broken china, placing it in the trash. The young man finishes sets down his cappuccino and the newspaper, his shaking hands belie the calmness of his voice. He thanks the man behind the counter for the cappuccino and the toast with the butter and jam, and remarks on the quality in a similar fashion to the woman with the book. He leaves several bank notes on the table and walks with a quickened pace to retrieve his coat and exit the shop.
A bell rings. The door is held ajar and as one customer leaves, another enters. An older man with grey hair calls a greeting as he shakes the snow off his boots. He takes a seat near the window in the morning sunshine and orders an espresso with a smile. The serving girl in the simple but elegant uniform doesn't approach him. The man with the missing teeth behind the counter doesn't smile. The child and her sister stare in a state of shock. No-one in the shop moves. The older man by the window is wearing a CCG uniform, marked by the blue insignia on the left sleeve of his grey trench coat. Outside, a pure white dove lands on a snow-covered sign, brushing some of the white powder to the ground.
The sign's fading, gold lettering spells the words, "Anteiku: the best coffee in Tokyo! "