The first customer of the day didn't blink at the price.
She handed over 6 Notes like it was water money.
Didn't glance at the sign.
Didn't ask what made the pour worth it.
She just… trusted.
Jun brewed like he always did—
measured,
steady,
without explanation.
The steam lifted through the cold air like handwriting.
Soft.
Curled.
Underlined by silence.
He passed her the cup with both hands.
She sipped once.
Then lingered.
Didn't rush off to work.
Didn't call a friend.
Just stood there with the cup between her palms, like it was the only thing in the world still warm.
No tip.
No small talk.
Just presence.
She left the empty cup by the corner trash bin with care—
not tossed,
placed.
[System Log: Emotional Echo Registered – Memory Brew: Mild]
Jun didn't smile.
Didn't change pace.
Just reset the dripper.
By mid-morning, the flow picked up.
Not fast.
But different.
More eyes.
More quiet stops at a distance.
A courier paused mid-route.
Didn't buy.
