Just a small oneshot I wrote for a charity drive! Not much but I hope people like it!
Techno is the only person willing to work late-night shifts anymore.
The cafe closes at 11 pm according to his boss, but with a midnight curfew sanctioned for the entire city, that doesn't leave much of a window to get home. Besides, most people try not to be out after dark anyway. Depending on the day, there's not much difference between strolling around after sundown and having a death wish. Doing so is basically begging to be murdered, they say. As if villains don't operate during day hours.
Techno has been held at knifepoint about three times this month alone and it hasn't deterred him any from going out whenever the heck he wants to. So he's basically the only one volunteering to keep the place running that late.
Why wouldn't he when he's offered double pay for covering those shifts?
Techno really needs the money, because despite living in a terrible neighborhood the rent prices have skyrocketed recently and heating isn't cheap either. University classes don't pay themselves either though really, Techno wishes they would. Maybe if the government wasn't so busy funneling all their money into hero projects they could pay for their civilians to have a basic education and fewer of them would turn to a life of crime because their minimum wage jobs don't make ends meet. Go figure.
On his way to work, he's stopped by one of the Peacekeepers. Their uniform resembles that of a normal police agent, but the hero agency symbol on their chest and the bright yellow pack attached to their belt betray that they have powers. Techno knows it's mandatory for them to do that because it's a basic human right to know whether you're being apprehended by a normal cop or one that could blow your face off with the snap of their fingers.
"Good evening sir." The guy seems nice enough, inclining his head to Techno. Techno semi-awkwardly nods back and tries to slip past them. But they reach out to grab his elbow.
Techno freezes.
"Do you mind showing some ID?" the Peacekeeper asks. Techno reaches into his pocket to grab his wallet.
"Do you mind telling me why?" he says back. The man smiles at him thinly, keeping up that veneer of friendly social service while in reality, they're probably pretty annoyed at being challenged by a civilian.
"Just a mandatory check," they clarify after a moment. "We got plenty of eyes on this area since there's been some… unwanted activity lately."
Techno almost laughs but manages to hold back. He hands his ID over to the Peacekeeper for inspection. They barely glance at it, but instantly notice the absence of the special marks that would denote Techno as a person with powers himself. Every baby is checked at birth since powers show up in blood analysis. If they have any, the government knows.
And if they have an interesting power, the government probably tries to scout those babies for their projects too.
"Very well," the man says. They don't hand Techno his papers back. "So where are you headed?"
"My job," Techno answers. He wants to add 'Unlike you, some of us do actually have to work for a living' but he doesn't think that would go over well.
The Peacekeeper looks over his ID again, as if it might have magically transformed into a piece of incriminating evidence in the few seconds they were staring at Techno. "This late?" they ask skeptically.
"I work the night shift."
They nod. Techno holds out his hand, hoping it will prompt them to give him his ID back faster. They don't.
"We've been having issues in this district," the Peacekeeper says. They talk in what is almost a hushed whisper, conspiratorially. Like this is some big police secret they're sharing and not something everybody with eyes could have told you months ago. "The Angel of Death has been very active in the area, so that's a problem. For your own safety, I would consider asking your boss for a temporary transfer to different shifts and to have the business close earlier."
"I'll consider it," Techno shrugs in answer. The man does not stop staring, keeping the ID in a tight grip.
"If you see anything suspicious you're supposed to report it to the government."
"I know," Techno says slowly. Because he does know. He just doesn't care.
After a few more seconds of tense silence, they hand his ID back to him. "Stay safe out there."
Techno doesn't think they actually care. Staying safe would put them out of a job. "Yeah, sure." He doesn't reciprocate the well wishes either.
He gets to the cafe almost twenty minutes late but nobody complains. None of them have time to, it's the middle of the evening rush. The counter is bustling with activity as everybody and their cousin seem to be eagerly trying to snag a coffee or a quick bite while they're commuting home before it gets dark. Techno throws on an apron and gets to work, making cappuccinos so perfect that an online influencer would weep at them. Just because he does the job as a side gig doesn't mean he won't take it seriously.
Gradually, his coworkers start to file out and head home. Techno keeps working, loading and unloading the dishwasher, prepping sandwiches wrapped in flimsy plastic, cutting slices of cake. Before long it's only him and his manager, a middle-aged guy named Simon. Techno likes Simon.
"Do you need me to stick around a bit longer?" Simon asks, glancing at the seating area. There's a handful of customers still lingering, sitting while typing on their laptops or chatting with friends. Daredevils like Techno, maybe, who aren't scared of walking around at night. Either that or they live literally a block away.
"I think I can manage," Techno says. The rush is definitely over.
"Call me if you need anything." Simon also lives less than five minutes away. "Oh, and remember to save at least one chocolate muffin. Phil is coming by later.
"Of course he is."
Techno smiles to himself though. Yeah, being nice to people might be in the job description, but that doesn't mean he can't have favorite customers. Phil would be one of them.
He keeps working as the remaining customers slowly start to leave. Sometimes Techno wonders why their boss insists on keeping the cafe open this late anyway. Especially since he's getting more pay while working the night shift, combined with how there are fewer customers than during the day, Techno can't imagine this is profitable. Then again, who is he to complain?
He's in the back when the bell above the door rings out. Techno doesn't get time to finish unloading the box he's busy with and turn around before somebody is already slapping their hands on the counter.
"Techno! Techno, come on, we're starving, you bitch!"
As tempting as it is to make Tommy wait just so he can get more annoyed, Techno turns around and walks out of the storage room before the gremlin breaks his cash register or something.
"Are you starving because you didn't finish your vegetables again?" he asks, wiping his hands on a towel. Techno leans onto the counter, so he can watch Tommy's expression turn into one of complete offense. It's hilarious.
"I'll have you know I ate all my spinach today," Tommy says.
"You threw half of it into the trash," Wilbur points out. He ruffles Tommy's hair but pulls back when the child almost bites him. "Hey, Techno."
"Hey, Wil."
"This is why I can't trust you," Tommy says seriously, fixing his older brother with a glare.
"Where's Phil?" Techno asks as he looks around but notices the older man isn't with them.
"He had some business to sort out first but he told us to go ahead," Wilbur says. He smiles, the kind of smile that makes him look a lot more menacing than it should. It's one of Wilbur's peculiar abilities. "You know, I told him we could get take out for him but he insisted he'd drop by himself. It's starting to feel like you're the favorite child and we're not even related."
Techno laughs, slapping away Tommy's hand that's reaching for the tip jar. "Not my fault Phil has good taste. What can I get you two today?"
"I'll have a coffee. Black, no sugar." Wilbur pulls on the fingerless gloves he's wearing as if he's begging for Techno to notice them. Maybe he's hoping for a compliment on how unbearably cool he looks. Techno says nothing. "And throw in a shot of mint syrup, just for kicks."
"You disgust me," Tommy says - voicing what every sane person hearing that order probably is thinking. "Can I just get a cappuccino or something?"
"Since when are you allowed to have caffeine?" Techno asks, turning around to start preparing their drinks.
Tommy scoffs, slamming his hands on the counter again. "Since always? I'm a grown man."
"Last time I checked you were in middle school," Techno says. He presses the decaf button on the machine. He's not going to be held responsible for what Tommy would do if he got caffeine at this hour. It's bad enough he'll probably dump like ten sugars into his drink.
"High school," Tommy corrects heatedly. Techno looks at him over his shoulder with a smirk.
"Same thing."
Tommy curses and sputters and heads off to find them a table. Something that is ridiculously easy to do considering there are no other customers left in the cafe. It's already past nine. Still, Tommy picks the table that's the furthest away from the counter, dramatically sitting down with his arms crossed in a way that makes Wilbur chuckle.
"So, how have you been?" he asks Techno, leaning onto the counter like Techno was doing before. Probably on purpose.
"Same as usual," Techno says. He's not the best at small talk, but for them, he'll make an effort. His life isn't too interesting though, he spends most of his time in class trying to get through dense literature without dying. And then at night he either works or plays video games. Wilbur knows this.
"That's good," Wilbur still says. He's wearing that ridiculous trench coat of his again and Techno kind of wants to make fun of him for it because it's the middle of spring. But then he'd have to get into the fingerless gloves and the red-tinged sunglasses and the weird belt hanging diagonally around Wilbur's chest - just the entire fashion disaster that's happening in front of him. And he can't be bothered.
"What about you guys?" he asks instead.
"We might need to move for the sixth time this year," Wilbur answers. Techno raises an eyebrow, turning around to put the finished order on the counter.
"Really? Did Tommy piss off the landlord again?"
"Nah, nothing like that." Wilbur holds up his hands. "It's Phil's job."
"Right," Techno says. "What job was that exactly? Phil never told me." He takes the money Wilbur dropped on the counter to pay for the drinks.
"You know… stuff." Wilbur drops some more into the tip jar, enough to also cover what Tommy stole from it.
"Stuff," Techno agrees.
Wilbur smiles at him, teeth all sharp and menacing.
"I need to finish cleaning the storage room," Techno says.
Wilbur nods in understanding. "Come chat more with us later, I need to tell you about this book I read."
Tidying the rest of the pantry takes the better part of an hour. Techno is starting to close up shop by the time Phil comes in. Wilbur and Tommy are the only customers he got during this entire night, loudly arguing about the ranking of different types of milkshakes at their table in the back. Phil kind of scowls fondly at their loudness as soon as he enters and that makes Techno laugh.
"You're going to have to start paying me a babysitting fee if you leave them alone in here too often," he jokes.
"You are literally paid double, mate. You have nothing to complain about," Phil says. How he knows that Techno gets double wages for working the night shift is anybody's guess. Or rather, Techno has his suspicions but never voices them out loud.
(Nobody comes by this late except for those three. Who else could his boss possibly want to keep the cafe open for?)
"Hey, I'm just doing my job. What'll it be?" Techno asks, but not before turning the kettle on.
"I'll have that tea you made last time. The custom blend?" Phil takes off his hat, flicking off some of the rain clinging to it. Techno hadn't noticed it had started to rain. "I don't know what the fuck you put in it, but it was delicious."
"Mainly chamomile," Techno says. He starts to measure the tea leaves and herbs. When he's bored at the job - which is basically every night when Phil, Wilbur, and Tommy don't come into the cafe - he'll experiment with making tea. Because he has nothing better to do. "Wilbur told me about you guys moving again."
Phil sighs. "Yeah, it's a mess."
"Anything I can do to help?"
His words make Phil grin, the kind of warm, easy smile usually given to children and baby animals. Those who don't know what they are messing with.
Unblinking, Techno smiles back.
"Nah, not much to do about it. I just can't keep working at my old placement. Don't worry though, we're not moving far away." Phil takes the tea when Techno puts it on the counter. Then Techno grabs the muffin out of the cooler too.
"I saved this for you," he says while placing it in front of Phil.
"This. This is why we can't stop coming here." Phil takes it and puts it in his bag. Phil's outfit is almost as absurd as Wilbur's. Techno is fairly sure that the shawl he's wearing unfurls into a cape or something. "Is your neighbor still bothering you, by the way?"
Oh right, Techno had told Phil all about the situation with his upstairs neighbor who stomped on the floor randomly and played loud music at six in the morning because they had a personal vendetta against Techno. Why? Techno doesn't have a clue. In the first week he'd moved to that apartment, that neighbor had already made a comment about him coming home at 'odd hours' and also how he should 'do something more respectable with his hair'. Techno doesn't get what their deal is.
"I haven't seen them in over a week actually," Techno admits. "Maybe they also moved?"
"Good," Phil says. He takes his tea too. There's some blood stuck under his nails, though Techno looks the other way. "Come sit with us?"
"I don't know, Phil, I'm so unbearably busy," Techno deadpans. Phil even goes as far as looking around the cafe for a moment, observing its empty state. Then they both laugh.
They sit around and chat for the remaining hour or so the place is open. Wilbur tells Techno about that book (it's a horrible historical romance novel Techno wouldn't be caught dead reading) and Tommy complains about the homework he's falling behind on. Phil compliments his tea blend.
The sun has gone down and only streetlights are reflected in the darkness outside.
"I should start closing up soon," Techno says. He almost regrets it. "My boss isn't paying me to sit around with you guys."
"He should," Tommy answers very seriously. "You're just too lame to take advantage of him."
"Don't you have a bedtime to stick to?" Techno asks, making Phil chortle while downing the last of his tea.
"Fuck you, I'm so cool and grown-up that I don't have a bedtime." Tommy scowls. Phil does not correct him. Techno doesn't know if he can.
"Yeah, but you'll still have to go. We're closing and I need to get home before the curfew."
"So doesn't mean that it's actually you who has a bedtime?" Wilbur points out. Techno doesn't grace him with an answer but reminds himself to replace that mint shot with expired milk next time.
"Come on, let's not make Techno's life any harder than it needs to be," Phil says. He gets up, cleaning off his hands on a napkin. "Besides, we have matters to attend to." It's such an unnecessarily cryptic thing to say. As if all four of them don't know what he means.
Well, Techno supposes that Phil might still think that he doesn't know. And he's investing in plausible deniability.
"Get home safe," Techno says while seeing them out at the door. And when Wilbur stops to smirk at him, it's with that same self-amused sharpness.
"See you tomorrow, Techno."
He cleans up the rest of the cafe and still clocks out about five minutes before closing time.
The walk back to his apartment is chilly, what with it being so late. Techno is wearing his thick coat and a scarf that Phil got him for his last birthday. It's green with a grey checkered pattern. Techno adores it, though that's the kind of thing he'd never admit out loud. He's scrolling his phone, squinting at the harsh glare while he catches up on the local news. It's mostly petty crimes that the police did nothing about, and a few villains who went ballistic. Though as usual, it's the hero association who caused more damage and civilian endangerment with their intervention. There's an article about the grand unveiling of a statue they put near city hall to commemorate the government's heroism, right above an article about the inflation of prices on basic medication and how many lives it will cost in six months' time.
If Techno didn't have these night shifts, he wouldn't have a place to live.
Something yanks hard on the end of his scarf. Techno is slammed into the wall, hissing when his head bounces against the brick. Yeah, being robbed is not something he's fond of. He's not scared to walk around at night and be killed. He's scared of the concussion he's going to get from the hard-handed treatment and repeated brain trauma.
"Was that really necessary?" Techno asks. The guy who is trying to steal from him is wearing a hood and a mask that covers half their face.
"Shut up and give me your wallet." They have a knife. They raise it almost as if planning to strike then lower it again. As far as threats go, it's kind of lackluster.
"Bruh, I'm not going to give you my wallet."
"You'd die over some money?" they ask, incredulous at his lack of fear.
Techno shrugs. "In this economy? Yes, actually."
"Wha-"
The wanna-be robber does not get the opportunity to finish their sentence because at that moment the Angel of Death descends on them.
Talons dig into the guy's shoulders, dragging them back and onto the ground as the rest of the Angel's body pins them down. Dark wings blot out the sky, stretched wide in an intimidating display.
"Last I checked, this isn't your fucking turf," the Angel spits at them.
The man can't answer, too busy screaming their head off.
"Why are they always so fucking loud?" another voice asks. Techno looks up, seeing the glowing eyes of Red Calamity. The young villain is sitting on the edge of the roof, looking down at the sight with cruel amusement. Next to him, the imposing figure of Siren is starkly contrasted by the light behind them.
"If you see anything suspicious you're supposed to report it to the government."
Those words flash through Techno's mind briefly. He wonders if three of the most notorious and wanted criminals of his lifetime count as suspicious. Probably.
"That yelling is going to draw in a Peacekeeper," Siren says with clear distaste.
"Right. I'll shut him up." The Angel rears back a fist.
Techno does not flinch at the sound of a nose being broken.
"Can we break his legs too?" Red Calamity asks. The Angel ignores him. He turns to Techno instead.
"Get home," he says. "We have some stuff to clean up tonight but the roads should be clear."
"That's very reassuring coming from the guy with a gas mask," Techno answers. He can't see the Angel smile at him, but he can feel it.
"Hey, I'm just doing my job."
The smell of chamomile lingers ever so faintly in the air.
Techno gets home before midnight, unbothered by anybody else roaming the streets. Most of them give him a wide berth, too scared of the shadows that trail him. Back in his apartment, Techno gets to take a long shower and enjoy the silence of no bothersome upstairs neighbor. His boss texts him confirmation of his shifts for the next week. He still insists they can't close earlier.
(Before he falls asleep to the sound of a police siren in the distance, Techno wonders how much they're paying to keep the cafe open that late.)