Effortlessly sidestepping Taki's hard-pressed questioning, Kyo naturally took advantage of the moment when Taki's momentum weakened to launch a counterattack.
"Hehe, is it possible that I came to RiNG just for a cup of coffee?" Kyo leaned lazily on the counter with one hand propping up her head, looking nowhere near as serious as the conversation warranted.
"As if…"
Mid-sentence, Taki suddenly recalled Kyo's notorious habits back in the band and hesitated.
Actually… with Kyo, that wasn't impossible. Maybe she really did come here just for coffee, and it was pure coincidence that Taki happened to be working here part-time.
So instead of finishing her sentence, she changed course.
"Then why not go to an actual café? Their drinks would obviously taste better than the ones here."
At those words, Kyo leaned back theatrically, as if personally offended by the statement. Meanwhile, Umiri didn't even bother holding back.
"Taki, do you even know whose uniform you're wearing right now?"
"W-What?!" Taki bristled. "It's not wrong to think a real café would serve better drinks than a live house, is it?" She immediately turned the tables on Umiri. "And you don't even know anything about coffee! You're just enjoying the show, aren't you?"
Caught red-handed, Umiri remained unfazed. In fact, she outright admitted it.
"Yeah."
She was so shamelessly honest about it that Taki had nothing left to say. She just rolled her eyes, but—because of the beauty mark at the corner—her expression, instead of being sharp, ended up looking subtly alluring.
"Sigh… Ririko-neechan would be heartbroken to hear that," Kyo lamented dramatically, wiping away imaginary tears. "She worked so hard to perfect her drink-making skills for RiNG, you know? She put in so much effort, especially when it came to coffee!"
Then, with a sudden shift in tone—
"Why don't I teach you how to make coffee, Taki?"
"Huh?"
"I just ran into Ririko earlier, and she did mention, 'If you could teach Taki, that'd be great,' or something along those lines."
Which wasn't technically a lie.
Ririko had asked Kyo to teach Taki… how to speak more politely.
Sorry, Ririko-san. Just slightly tweaking the meaning here.
As for why Kyo had suddenly decided to teach Taki how to make coffee—
She needed Taki to make a second cup.
The first one had already been nearly finished by the time Kyo arrived, meaning that whatever emotions Taki had poured into it had already settled. The traces of tension, determination, and anxiety from her early practice sessions had already taken root.
Kyo wanted something new.
She needed to guide Taki's thoughts—push her to think about CRYCHIC while making this next cup. She needed Taki's emotions, her true feelings about the band, to seep into it.
And she already had a plan.
"Besides, there's no one else here right now besides me and Umiri. And if a new customer comes in, I'll help out for free."
Seeing that Taki was still hesitant, Umiri seized the moment.
"Taki, you do want to get better, don't you? Since Kyo seems so confident, why not give it a try?"
That line hit where it mattered most.
Taki's relentless self-discipline wouldn't allow her to reject the idea of improving.
With a sigh, she stood up and motioned for Kyo to enter through the staff passageway behind the counter.
Nice!
Kyo stood as well, but before heading inside, she shot Umiri a playful wink—a silent nod of appreciation.
By the time Kyo reappeared behind the bar, she had already undone and re-tied her hair into a neat ponytail, fully stepping into the role of a bartender.
"You look really professional, Kyo," Umiri commented.
"Thanks for the compliment. And might I say, Umiri, your outfit gives off a very rockstar vibe. I bet a Tequila Sunrise—the drink of choice for many rock legends—would suit your taste perfectly."
A smile—perfectly balanced between warmth and distance. A tone—just ambiguous enough, her usually crisp voice now carrying a slightly husky, velvety texture. It wasn't a slur, but just faintly indistinct, like a feather brushing against the ear—light, teasing, almost electric.
Taki visibly shuddered.
Goosebumps. Literal goosebumps.
She crossed her arms over herself instinctively.
"You sound so weird." Taki frowned. "That tone doesn't suit you at all."
"You don't like it?"
"It's not that it sounds bad—it actually does sound good—but why are you suddenly talking like that? And why are you suddenly being so polite to Umiri?"
Kyo clicked her tongue and wagged a finger. "Oh, Taki, you still don't get it. The art of bartending isn't just about making drinks—half of it is about how you interact with the customer."
"Hah?"
"Exactly! Even if you keep that cold, unapproachable look on your face, there will always be customers who like that kind of attitude. But if you talk to them like this, it's not about preferences anymore—you'll just straight-up scare them away!"
"Who cares about that? As long as I can make drinks, that's enough!"
Kyo had been ready to argue further about the professional standards of a bartender, but before she could continue, Umiri raised her hand.
"Yes, Miss Umiri, you have the floor."
"You better not be telling me to act like that too!" Taki cut in, already on guard.
"I like Taki the way she is."
Umiri lowered her hand, resting her elbows on the counter and loosely clasping her fingers together in front of her mouth. It was a classic pose—calm, composed, and utterly sincere as she delivered her statement head-on.
"Of course, if you wanted to learn from Kyo, that wouldn't be a bad idea either."
"You—!"
Taki's voice immediately jumped in volume. A faint flush bloomed across her cheeks, though it wasn't too obvious.
"Ugh, enough! Just start teaching me already! Stop messing around!"
She tried to cover up her embarrassment, but unfortunately for her, both Kyo and Umiri saw right through it.
Still, neither of them pushed further.
Instead, Kyo turned her attention to the bar counter at RiNG, curiously taking in the details. Compared to her usual workspace at VA-11 HALL-A, this one felt much brighter, thanks to the massive floor-to-ceiling windows right across from the counter.
It lacked the same sense of elegant refinement, but in exchange, it felt much warmer, much cozier.
Hmm. This atmosphere is actually perfect for the act I'm about to put on.
That's right.
If she wanted to steer Taki's thoughts back to CRYCHIC, then the best approach was to imitate the person who had led the band—
And the person who had ultimately caused it to fall apart.
Sakiko.
Back at the aquarium, Kyo had already confirmed with Tomori that her imitation of "Togawa Sakiko"—the version of her that existed during their band days—was highly effective.
And here, in RiNG, the sunny, open setting would make that naïve, pure-hearted version of Sakiko shine even more.
With the right person and the right place already on her side, all that was left was to see—
Taki, what exactly is on your mind?