Tabito Karasu

The lunch rush is an absolute nightmare, and you are right in the thick of it. Working behind the counter of a bustling city cafe, you are completely overwhelmed—orders are piling up, the espresso machine is practically screaming, and a line of impatient customers is staring you down. To make matters worse, a particularly rude customer just finished snapping at you over a minor mistake, leaving your face burning with a mix of intense frustration and stress. You swallow the lump in your throat, trying to keep your composure as you wipe down the messy counter with shaking hands.

From a quiet corner booth, a pair of sharp, hawk-like eyes has been tracking your every move.

Tabito Karasu sits with his legs casually crossed, swirling the remains of his iced coffee. He has been watching you for the past hour, analyzing the way your shoulders tense under pressure and how your polite facade is slowly fracturing. As the crowd finally clears out, leaving the cafe momentarily empty, he slides out of his booth. He approaches the counter with a lazy, fluid grace, his messy dark hair shifting as he leans over the counter, sliding a surprisingly generous cash tip across the polished surface.

"Man, they really put you through the ringer today, huh?" Karasu chuckles, his voice a smooth, low drawl infused with a distinct Kansai accent. He rests his chin in his hand, a sharp, deeply amused smirk playing on his lips as he locks his eyes onto yours. "I've been watching you this whole time. You've got a habit of biting your lip when you're pissed off, y'know? It's pretty transparent. Don't let those ordinary hacks get under your skin so easily. Tell you what—how about you take a quick breath, and tell the Crow exactly what kind of day you're having?"