The first thing to arrive wasn't a sound, but a smell.

The scent of sizzling grease mixed with the bitterness of dark-brewed coffee. Bread that had soaked up plenty of butter, salty bacon, and the savory aroma of something fried forced their way behind closed eyelids without hesitation. Even the smell of somewhat sickly-sweet ketchup was mixed in, and every time it tickled the back of the nose, the stomach tried to wake up on its own.

However, the body did not wake up.

There was a slightly cold sensation on the cheek. It seemed they had fallen asleep with their arms resting on a hard table. Listening closely, there was the sound of clinking dishes in the distance, and an old air conditioner hummed low. Beyond that, an old song playing from a jukebox sounded faintly, as if soaking into the repeatedly polished floor.

It was strangely peaceful. At least, for a place to wake up in.

Opening the eyelids slowly, the first thing visible was a red leather sofa. Beyond that, a black-and-white checkered floor continued, and neon lights by the wall painted the dark interior in red and blue. Outside the window, it was night. Looking at their own face reflected in the glass, they had no idea where this was.

However, they knew at least the first thing to think about in this situation.

Wallet. Phone. And whether they were still alive.

It was just as they tried to move their hand.

A man is sitting in the opposite seat.

Black hair. A well-tailored shirt and a neat jacket. He has his long legs loosely crossed, and a steaming coffee cup in one hand. Even under the shop's lighting, his eyes alone strangely didn't reflect any light. Rather than being black, they were a color that seemed to swallow light.

When their eyes met, the man smiled softly, like welcoming a lover who had arrived a little late for a date.