Rain poured endlessly over the sleeping city.
Water streamed down glowing signboards, gathered along the cracked sidewalks, and splashed beneath the tires of passing cars. The cold wind of early winter carried the smell of wet concrete, cigarette smoke, and exhaust fumes through the narrow streets.
Yet inside the small café tucked between two old buildings, another scent lingered stubbornly in the air.
Coffee.
Rich. Warm. Comforting.
The final customer left with a polite bow, the bell above the café door ringing softly as it closed.
"Thank you for coming…"
The tired voice belonged to a young man wiping the counter with sluggish movements.
His name was Ren.
Twenty-six years old.
Part-time barista.
Full-time exhausted human being.
His black apron was stained with milk foam and coffee grounds, and dark circles hung beneath his eyes like permanent shadows. Even so, his hands moved carefully as he cleaned the espresso machine.
Almost lovingly.
The owner of the café had already gone home an hour ago, leaving Ren to close the shop alone again.
As usual.
Ren let out a long sigh before glancing at the wall clock.
11:47 PM.
"…I missed the last train again."
He laughed quietly to himself, though there was little humor in it.
Outside, the rain only grew heavier.
For several moments, the café remained silent except for the soft jazz music playing from an old speaker and the rhythmic tapping of rain against the windows.
This was the only time Ren truly liked.
After the customers were gone.
After the noise disappeared.
When the café became quiet enough for him to breathe.
He walked behind the counter and began preparing one final cup for himself.
The familiar movements flowed naturally.
Grind the beans.
Measure carefully.
Heat the water.
Slowly pour.
The scent blooming from the fresh grounds immediately softened his expression.
"Still smells amazing…"
No matter how exhausted he was, coffee always calmed him.
It was strange.
People drank coffee to stay awake.
But for Ren, coffee was rest itself.
His eyes drifted toward the small notebook sitting beside the register.
Inside were countless ideas.
Drink recipes.
Dessert concepts.
Interior sketches.
Dream café designs.
A dream he had chased for years.
Owning his own coffee shop.
Not a large one.
Just something small and warm.
A place where people could relax after difficult days.
A place filled with the smell of coffee and quiet conversations.
A place that felt like home.
But dreams were expensive.
Reality was not.
Reality was double shifts, unpaid overtime, cheap instant noodles, and sleeping four hours a night.
Ren took a sip from his cup and closed his eyes.
Delicious.
Bitter at first.
Then warm.
Then comforting.
"…Maybe someday."
He whispered the words with a faint smile.
He had said that same sentence for nearly eight years.
Someday.
Not today.
Not tomorrow.
Someday.
The rain continued outside.
loud buzz suddenly interrupted the silence.
BZZZT.
Ren glanced at his phone.
Three unread messages.
Manager:
"Can you cover morning shift tomorrow too?"
Manager:
"Kenji called in sick."
Manager:
"Please reply ASAP."
Ren stared at the screen blankly.
Then he laughed.
A weak, tired laugh.
"…Of course."
His body ached.
His shoulders felt heavy.
Even breathing felt tiring lately.
But he already knew his answer.
If he refused, someone else would suffer for it.
That was simply how things worked.
Ren finished his coffee, washed the cup, and finally turned off the lights.
Only the soft glow from the street lamps remained outside the windows.
He grabbed his umbrella and stepped into the rain.
Cold wind greeted him immediately.
The city was quieter now.
Most people had already gone home.
Ren walked slowly through the wet streets, his shoes splashing through shallow puddles.
The convenience store near the station was still open.
The ramen shop on the corner still had customers.
The world continued moving normally.
Meanwhile, exhaustion weighed down every step he took.
His chest hurt lately.
Probably stress.
Maybe lack of sleep.
Maybe both.
"…I should quit."
He muttered the words absentmindedly.
But he knew he wouldn't.
Finding another stable job was difficult.
Living itself was difficult.
Another cold gust of wind blew past him.
Ren tightened his grip on the umbrella and continued walking.
Then—
His vision blurred.
He stumbled slightly.
"…Huh?"
The streetlights stretched strangely before his eyes.
His breathing became uneven.
His heartbeat pounded painfully against his chest.
Thump.
Thump.
THUMP.
Ren stopped walking and grabbed a nearby wall for support.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
The rain felt distant now.
Muted.
His fingers trembled.
"…Not now…"
His knees weakened.
The umbrella slipped from his hand and rolled across the soaked pavement.
People in the distance shouted something.
But their voices sounded far away.
Ren collapsed onto the wet ground.
Cold rain soaked his clothes instantly.
His vision darkened little by little.
And strangely…
The final thing he thought about was not fear.
Not regret.
Not death.
It was coffee.
The scent of freshly brewed coffee.
The warmth of a quiet café.
The dream he never reached.
"…Just once…"
His lips moved weakly.
"…I wanted… my own shop…"
Darkness swallowed him whole.
…
...
...…
A soft chime echoed through the darkness.
[Ding.]
[Compatible host confirmed.]
[Unique profession detected: Coffee Specialist.]
[Beginning synchronization…]
Ren frowned slightly.
A voice?
No…
Not a voice.
Something stranger.
Cold.
Mechanical.
[Conditions fulfilled.]
[The Café Management System has been successfully activated.]
A blinding light suddenly filled his vision.
Ren's eyes snapped open.
"…!"
He inhaled sharply and sat upright.
Dust scattered into the air.
For several seconds, he could only stare blankly at his surroundings.
An old wooden ceiling.
Cracked walls.
Broken tables.
Faded shelves.
Moonlight shining through dirty windows.
"…What?"
His voice sounded dry.
Ren slowly stood up, his body trembling slightly.
This was not his apartment.
Not the street.
Not the café where he worked.
The room looked ancient.
Like something from another era.
A faint smell of wood, dust…
…and coffee.
His eyes widened.
Near the corner of the room sat an old hand grinder beside a rusted kettle.
Ren unconsciously walked toward them.
The moment his fingers touched the grinder—
[Ding.]
[Starter Café Package detected.]
Would you like to initialize Moonbean Café?]
A glowing blue screen appeared before his eyes.
Ren froze completely.
"…Eh?"
Outside the dusty window, two moons hung silently in the night sky.
.
.
.