Renegade

“Thank you, please come again!” you brightly say to a leaving customer. He couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge, rushing like his life depends on it after hearing something on the phone. The café’s quiet again, your sigh seeming to echo despite the decent soundproofing. That was only your third customer after nearly six hours of operation. 

The business strategy sounded pretty solid and straightforward when your friend and owner Takaki suggested it. A café with a cozy ambience and plenty of amenities for students of the nearby university. Pricing’s also a major thing, in that it isn’t very major. Well-suited for their budgets. Projected losses in the early days, of course, but the traffic’ll pay it off in time.

Well, difficulties along the way put delay after delay which means your grand opening is smack dab in the middle of summer break. You can individually track each customer over the past two weeks, so barren it has been. 

“Ah, well. Good thing dude’s filthy rich. Next month will pay off, trust.” You busy yourself with whatever baristas do when it’s quiet, wiping down tables over and over. There must be more cleaner residue on those than there have been actual stains. The windows, too. At least that you kinda enjoy, as any stains bother you immensely. 

At one point you take over the chill jazz and soul R&B playing on repeat, blasting your own mishmash of genres while singing them to your heart’s content. A decent use of the pricey double glazed glass at least. 

Unfortunately, slaving the speakers to your phone means the welcome bell doesn’t sound when a customer does open the door. “Now let me show you the shape—ahh! My heart!” You jump at the sight of the mythical customer just as she closes the door behind her. She’s hardly affected. Maybe her eyes widened a bit, but that’s it. 

“Sorry, sorry! Pardon me. We are open, yes! Lemme just…” You stumble and scramble to the counter, the squeaky clean floor working against you. The playlist switches back to company SOP, along with your disposition. “Please, come in. What can I get for you today, miss?”

She approaches the counter silently, her eyes only changing when she reads over the menu. “Do you have anything that’s…brightly colored? Except for red,” she croaks like her voice is trying not to disturb the ambience. 

You raise a brow at the peculiar request. “Well…if I’m getting you correctly, our matcha latte’s what you’re looking for.” She winces, curling her lips inwards. “That’s…green, isn’t it?”

“Yes it is.”

“Anything that’s like…purple in color? Violet, something like that?”

“Eh…not as of yet, unfortunately,” you give a slight bow. “Maybe you could give some suggestions? We can add it to the menu later, still feeling things out here.”

She sighs, shoulders slumping but not loosening. “No, I’ll just take one large matcha. Normal sugar and ice.” 

“Gotcha. Anything else? Our sandwiches are pretty good—”

“Just…the matcha latte, please. Thank you.” Her answer is curt, but doesn’t bite very hard, like its teeth had been worn down.

“Of course, one large matcha latte, normal sugar and ice.” You give her the QR payment code and she scans it, movements almost robotic. “Very well. I’ll get this ready for—oh, almost forgot!” You chuckle brightly and tap on your forehead, trying to melt away at least parts of the wall of ice she brought in. “What’s the name for the order?”

“Enami. Enami Asa,” she answers, efficient and no warmer, already turning away to look for a seat. “Enami…Asa. Like this?” You show her the writing on her cup. Asa offers a passing glance, confirming with a single nod and continuing on her way. You finally relent and accept the cold. Perhaps it’s what she needs right now far more than whatever you could offer.

You do maintain your own temperature as you deliver the drink to her table. Asa returns a brief thanks; polite, sanitised. You give a slight bow and return to the counter, readying yourself for another customer…that doesn’t come. Back to filler activities you go, minus the obsessive cleaning and personal karaoke, that is. Only you, the gentle music, the air conditioning with hints of coffee, and Asa. 

Seriously, she didn’t bring anything with her other than her phone, it seems. And even that sits idly in her pocket. She takes a small sip every now and then, otherwise just observing the interior in silence, barely moving her head.

Bit by bit her cup empties, and on the last sip she places the cup back in the exact same spot it’s been in; not even the ring of water on the table is out of place. She gets up and puts the chair back in place, turning towards the exit. “Thank you, please come again!” Asa’s arm flies up to chest level before she snaps them back to her sides, offering a half-bow on the way out. You return it and watch her walk away. From where you can see, it seems like her head doesn’t quite know where she’s going, her legs merely following whatever path they’re on.

“Hm. Quiet, uptight…purple drink lady.” You hum and add her to the small bank of customers in your mind, fully expecting this to be your only encounter with her.

But it isn’t. Asa comes back every three to four days, making her the first and so far only recurring customer. Each time she orders the same thing. Sits in the same spot. Makes no conversation beyond what is chiefly necessary. You thought the cold silence would be suffocating, what with your polar opposite energy. Strangely, that’s not the case. You find her presence to be some sort of anchor, something to look forward to with less than ten customers a day. 

On the third week after your first encounter, you almost wish for that back. Academic year’s in full swing, numbers previously requiring a week to reach easily surpassed in three hours. You and Takaki both man the counter full-time, no longer taking turns. He’s already thinking about hiring another employee, too.

When Asa shows up again, you almost don’t recognise her amidst all the fast-moving chaos. “One moment! Welcome to the Camel Café. What can I get—oh! Hi!” You just about jump on your feet upon seeing her. A wide, unabashed grin blooms across your features, half of the day’s tension melting away from your shoulders.

Asa seems equally awestruck by the crowd, if not perturbed. It’s the first new expression you’ve seen from her. “I see business has…taken off.” A casual, non pragmatic (well, less than usual) comment too? You can’t help but laugh, to the confusion of Takaki behind you amongst his juggling of four orders.