[Fin] You Don't Have to Go Home, But...[Dark]

[Bee]

It was eleven o’clock, and the last of the patrons had been dutifully tended to and ushered out of the cafe. They had a small crowd that usually liked to hang out until the absolute last minute, which was just fine by him—they usually bought a pretty steady stream of coffee and treats, and they were fairly well-mannered besides.

(Plus, some of their talk amused and intrigued him—a bunch of harmless, would-be anarchists, who talked vaguely about the Man and the Courts and how one day power would be given back to the common people. They had stickers and everything.)

But now it was time for inventory and clean-up. After the chores of the day, however much he liked the solitude—usually just himself plus Aiolos and maybe an assistant—he usually found it difficult to care about mopping. Mostly he just wanted to drag himself home and crawl in bed with Senka.

[Dark]

Aiolos liked this time of night best, when the last customers has been politely evicted from their seats and silence had finally descended upon the café; it changed the entire landscape of the place. He even enjoyed the clean-up; there was something very cathartic about obliterating evidence of the day’s business, and readying it for the next: the beginning of a fresh start, every night, come eleven o’clock.

It was a bit of an odd sentiment, but he attributed it as a quirk stemming from the investment of so much time and energy put into the business. It had worked out surprisingly well as a business venture for himself and Vishne, and they were doing quite well for themselves. And he hadn’t even been forced to murder anyone yet; surprising.

He glanced at Vishne, who was listlessly attempting to mop the floor, and scowled, “Go home, I’ll do that.” Vishne needed to be in early the next morning to start the breakfast items, and it wasn’t as if Aiolos had any pressing plans for what was left of the evening.

[Bee]

Vishne gave him a sideways glance, pausing a moment in his tedious chore. “There’s a lot of work to do,” he pointed out.

Sure, Aiolos could do it on his own (and they had all of the food prep already done, the stuff that Vishne didn’t need to do in the morning), but it would take a good chunk of time longer, and he didn’t like dumping everything on the Ace. Even though he really did want to just pack up and head home. Theoretically he only worked four days a week, from four in the morning to midnight (with a decent chunk of break in the middle), but often enough he picked up way more hours than he probably should.

When some project of his was actually succeeding, he rather desperately wanted to see it keep succeeding, and he had a rather persistent and irrational fear that if he took his attention away from it for ten seconds, it would fall apart when he wasn’t looking.

[Dark]

Aiolos shrugged; “Carry on, then.”

At odd moments he was struck with a desire to be the better person--like tonight, offering to let Vishne head home early--but he was inevitably reminded in those moments why he didn’t normally bother to expend the effort it took to be so thoughtful as to the well-being of others. It wasn’t like his occasional overtures towards common decency were properly appreciated, besides. And it certainly wasn’t a trend he was particularly keen to start, besides; people might start expecting it from him then. He shuddered at the thought. Better to avoid these moments entirely from this point forward.

He turned his attention towards wiping off the tables and chairs--people were so messy, he reflected with disgust--and thought about other things he would need to attend to in the near future. Foremost on the list was ordering new supplies.

“I need you to take inventory in the next couple days,” he directed towards Vishne.

[Bee]

Inventory was less tedious than mopping—but then, he would probably find starting at grass grow less tedious than mopping. Though running over numbers at this time of night usually made his brain go a wee bit fuzzy. After a while his sheets tended to run together in a bizarre dance of letters and numbers that made progressively less sense. But he wasn’t awfully tired, so he could start the task tonight, and finish the rest of it sometime tomorrow. They needed to get their order out. But what was the use of thinking about that? He still needed to do the mopping first. He was more tired than he thought.

Bah, he thought, and drove the mop into the soapy water.

“All right,” he said, and continued along the floor. He was glad they had decided to go with a floor that had some decent grip to it—and to think, a few people had suggested tile. Did they had no idea what kind of guck got stuck in grout?

[Dark]

Aiolos watch Vishne for a moment, finding the canine’s listlessness fascinating for all of five seconds, before turning his attention back to finishing the tables. When they were sufficiently clean, he went behind the counter to tidy up a bit more. Technically speaking, it was the job of the baristas to clean up the work area, but Aiolos didn’t trust them to do so sufficiently, for all that it was part of their job. Which was why he was loathe to hire help--all they wanted was a paycheck--but Vishne and he couldn’t manage wholly alone.

It generally took an hour to clean-up after closing, and it was no different tonight than any other. At five minutes after midnight, he shut off all but the front light, pushed a dragging Vishne in the direction of home, and locked the door to the café securely behind him.

Tomorrow, the whole process would repeat itself.