Volume 2 - CH 2

House of The Golden Bird (2)

Translated by LyraDhani

Edited by LyraDhani

Underneath the white letters of the restaurant’s name, a white tag was hung with a golden chain. Although the tag read ‘in preparation’ in black letters, he had received a message from his employer to go straight in.

Masato tapped twice on the brass knocker and then pushed the door open. The doorbell on the inside rang in the quiet space.

“Excuse me.”

As he stepped into the dimly lit room, the aroma of rich and fragrant coffee tickled his nose.

His eyes, accustomed to the brightness of the sun outside, could only see a vague outline at first, but gradually the interior became clearer.

Just like the exterior, the interior was also Western-style.

The black, matted wooden floor and white plastered walls. On the white ceiling, a lattice pattern was formed by a thick, dark brown latticework.

The interior of the restaurant, lit by a series of dark orange lamps, was long and narrow. There was a long, dark brown counter with two round tables for two. Each had a wooden chair with a dark green cushion.

In one corner of the store, there was a bookshelf as tall as Masato, filled to the brim with books. Most of the books were in foreign languages, with English, German, French, and many other languages adorning the spines.

He heard a noise and looked over to see a thin man standing behind the counter.

Dressed as a waiter in a white Western shirt, black vest, and bow tie, he looked to be in his mid-fifties. His gray hair, streaked with gray, was neatly brushed back, and he wore thin, celluloid-rimmed round glasses that gave him an air of elegance and intelligence.

The man was facing one of the glass balloon-shaped siphons lined up on the counter.

An alcohol lamp flickered just below the siphon, and boiling water slowly rose into a roto attached to the top of a round flask. The aroma of coffee in the air became stronger as the man stirred the coffee beans and hot water in the roaster with a spatula.

A few dozen seconds after the water had finished rising, the alcohol lamp was extinguished and the extracted coffee fell into the flask below.

The man who had been watching the glazed brown liquid fall finally turned his quiet gaze toward Masato.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

He bowed to Masato, who had the appearance of a foreigner, and was not particularly surprised to see him enter despite being in the middle of preparations.

“The owner told me about you. Please come in that way.”

“Thank you.”

He indicated with his hand to the back of the store. A sapphic-colored curtain was hanging on a part of the wall.

Masato bowed to the man and headed toward the back of the store, but stopped halfway.

“… Oh, yes, I’m sorry for not saying my name. My name is Senzaki. May I ask your name?”

“My name is Miyake. I cook and serve here.”

The man who introduced himself as Miyake smiled calmly and said, “We only have one employee.” Masato asked the affable man a question as if it were completely unintentional.

“I see. …I was wondering if you know the name of the owner? I haven’t asked him yet.”

“I have been told to call him ‘Ono Kahoru’ since the other day, so I call him Kahoru-san.”

“…”

Whether he realized Masato’s intentions or not, Miyake didn’t break his smile and headed back to his coffee.

Masato cowered inwardly, then turned toward the curtains.

Pulling the thick velvet curtains to the side with his hand, he found a staircase leading to the basement and a large space. Five steps down, turn right at a small landing, two steps down, and there was a room about six tatami mats in size.

The room was half-underground, but the high ceiling made it feel spacious. The light from the chandelier on the high ceiling and the sunlight from the window made the room feel brighter than the dimly lit restaurant, even though it was underground. The floor was covered with a flax-colored carpet with red and dark blue oriental flower patterns woven into the fabric.

This room also had bookshelves filled with books. Unlike the café, this room was lined with Japanese books as well as Western books. There were also a variety of popular literary magazines, as well as specialized books on medicine and history.

In the center of the room were a round table and sofa set with a chessboard and Western-style board games. At the end of the room was a rectangular cabinet with a fountain pen, an inkwell, and a half-sheet of paper with alphabets and numbers scribbled on it in the corner.

It could be a secret study in the back of a coffee shop.

Masato landed on the half-underground floor, looked around the room, and noticed a small figure sitting on one of the couches on the opposite side of the room from the window.

“Oops…”

He stopped and blew out a little because the situation was similar to the one before.

Leaning deeply against the one-seater sofa, holding a book and closing his eyes, was Masato’s employer. He seemed to be asleep, and a small sleepy breath reached his ears.

He seemed to be a child who likes to sleep a lot.

Maybe, he should be the ‘Sleeping Beauty’ instead of ‘Rumpelstiltskin‘.

Masato wondered how to wake him up. Before he could even think about it, the curtain above moved. At the same time, the aroma of coffee descended.

Then, without warning, Ono Kahoru, the employer who had been asleep, opened his eyes.

Unlike a raccoon sleeping… The eyes of a sleepy person, with a vague and uncertain viewpoint, were awakened with a few blinks.

“…… Ah, Senzaki-san. I see you’ve arrived.”

A silver tray was presented beside him. The hand holding the tray was Miyake, who had come down the stairs. It was a white ceramic cup with aroma and steam wafting from it, probably containing the coffee that had just been brewed.

“Kahoru-san, here you go.”

“Thank you.”

Kahoru took the cup on the tray and smelled it once on the black surface of the water, then took a small sip.

Miyake asked Kahoru how the coffee tasted.

“Today’s beans seemed to be a little deep-roasted, so I ground them more coarsely than usual. What do you think?”

“Well… The aroma is fine. The taste is a little sour.”

“Yes, sir. I will grind it a little finer. Shall I brew it again for you?”

“Yes, please.”

Miyake bowed to him and left with the empty tray under his arm.

Masato, who had been watching the whole sequence of events, heard Kahoru’s voice.

“I am sorry, Senzaki-san. I was the one who called you, but I fell asleep.”

“No, don’t worry about it. …Would it be better if I said please don’t worry about it?”

Masato changed his tone because Miyake was using honorifics for Kahoru.

He had heard that this boy-Kahoru-was the owner of the coffee shop, but Masato had secretly (and rudely) thought that he was just a decorative shopkeeper.

He had thought that there was no way a child could be the owner of the store, but the blotched alphabet that he had glimpsed on the half-sheet of paper he had just seen on the table probably indicated the type of coffee beans and the customers. Scattered among the numbers were some formulas, probably indicating prices and sales.

Furthermore, the way Miyake completely entrusted Kahoru with checking the taste of the store’s coffee, it was obvious that he was playing the role of a proper shopkeeper, even if he was a child.

In that case, Masato, who was indeed a hired worker, could not talk to him casually.

He asked him about it, but Kahoru shook his head.

“You don’t have to use honorifics. You are older than me.”

“But Miyake-san seems to be using honorifics.”

“He has been doing so for some time, so don’t worry about it. You don’t have to change your tone toward me. It’s better suited to the job.”

“…What do you mean? You are the owner of the coffee shop, right?”

As Masato tilted his head, Kahoru’s lips curved upward.

“I’ll have you work as a waiter, but you have another job as well.”

“What other job?”

“That’s something I’ll explain to you as we follow you on the road. …Miyake will be bringing coffee soon, so for now, let’s enjoy the coffee and pastries that Café Grimm prides itself on.”

Saying so, Kahoru fetched a square metal tin on top of the cabinet and offered a large butter cookie.