#demuredancer

As always, she timed her departure from her home and her walk perfectly; as she rounded the corner and came into view of her destination she saw someone - ah, it was Kai - flip the sign to say OPEN. A light change later, her hand reached out to pull the door open. The bell chimed almost merrily as she stepped in, echoing the smile the girl had as she waved to the staff present.

"Morning Sumia, Kai, Gaius, Nowi! Morning Brady, Donnel, Lon'qu! Morning Lucina, Morgan, Olivia and Olivia~ Oh, Henry's gone off for delivery's already?"

Her greeting was returned with little hesitation. Ever since their opening on this street corner in the spring, the raven-haired teen had quickly become a well-known regular. Her orders were more or less consistent, though sometimes she'd feel adventurous and order something new. She always sat in the exact same spot, and always cleaned up after herself so that all Kai had to do was wipe it down a little.

"G-good morning Morgan," came Olivia's - one of the Olivias, at least - shy greeting as the younger girl approached the counter.

"Venti green tea frappe and a lemon poppy seed loaf, yep."

The petite student made small talk with the baristas as she watched them make her order, her slice of loaf cake in its bag in one hand. She giggled at the older man's obvious discomfort at her proximity when he handed her her drink, thanked him for his work. Then it was to her same old spot, as always.

No one in the facility ever quite knew why the girl always brought along the materials she did. Several of the employees had made small talk with her before, and the girl had quite openly and honestly shared that she was studying to go into business. Perhaps an accountant, she'd said, or maybe a consultant. She wanted to follow in her father's footsteps. Yet whenever she came to the little coffee shop, a majority of the time she had not an accounting book, but a sketchbook in her lap. Today was no different. Seeing her, the other Olivia approached the girl with a small smile.

"I-is school over for you now, Morgan?"

The raven looked up from her work, and smiled. "Yep. I found a summer job too."

"Oh, h-how lovely! Uhm... what kind of job is it?"

"Bank telling, but it shouldn't be too hard."

"I-I see..." A smile. "W-well... good luck!"

-

Summer heat gave way to autumn rains. School began again; frappes turned to lattes. And Morgan and her sketchbook continued to be a regular presence within the shop. At times the staff there would note offhandedly that the girl had her homework out in front of her instead, but whenever the chance arose, she would be back to her charcoal again. She seemed pleased that the staff she'd come to know hadn't changed hands, but quickly became a common face to the newer ones too.

"Hey, Morgan," Lucina piped up one day. "Why don't you go into aim for a business career in the arts instead?"

"Why would you say that?"

"Well, you're always drawing..."

"It's just a hobby," the dark-haired girl smiled and laughed, abashed. "I'm nowhere good enough to do professional art venues. Drawing just helps me decompress."

To that Lucina could find no rebut, so it was simply left off at that.

-

As the last of summer's warmth ebbed away, the walk to the quaint coffee shop was now plagued with fallen leaves and brisk winds. Perhaps it was the change in weather, or perhaps the weight of a final year of high school. No one could quite pinpoint when they noticed it, but they all, one by one, began to see unusual nuances. Though she was as animated as ever in proximity, the moment Morgan sat down, she seemed... smaller. Less substantial.

"'Ow've ya been, Morgan?" Donnel asked the girl one afternoon from his spot at the expresso machine. "Yer lookin' under th' weather."

"Just a little cold, nothing serious," came the smiled reply.

"An' yer studies?"

"I do my best. When don't I?"

"You've got bags under your eyes." Lon'qu approached, her latte in hand. "Are you getting enough sleep?"

"I manage." A tone as light as if making a passing comment on the weather. She set a giftbag on the counter as she added, "Oh, by the way, happy birthday Lon'qu! Here's to another year."

-

The last of the shriveled leaves drifted to the frost-coated ground, and were soon covered with snow. Many sought the promise of hot drinks the store provided, among them the now-daily visit of Morgan. Though nothing was said, there was an understanding that the girl wasn't at her best. Her ventis had dwindled to shorts; she rarely bought pastries anymore, and her orders were always some variation of herbal tea. She would doze in her chair when she wasn't doing homework or drawing or, to their surprise, sewing. The finished products were never seen, but she would often remain until closing time, carefully stitching together pieces of cloth with great care and diligence.

One mid-December evening, Lucina was helping to close up shop when she spied a familiar messenger bag in a familiar spot. She remembered Morgan jolting awake and rushing to clean up her garbage before hurrying out the door; had she forgotten her bag in her haste? Well, likely she would be back for it tomorrow. Picking up the bag - surprisingly heavy - she brought it to the staff lounge and stuck a post-it declaring "Morgan (customer)" on it.

-

HIT AND RUN KILLS GIRL AND DOG.

The newspaper headline blared out at the assembled staff from the table. Sumia had come rushing in that morning, face pale and so flustered she'd almost run into the front door. None of them spoke, only stared at the photo of the girl who had been struck by a car the previous night and was pronounced dead at the scene. One by one, their eyes drifted to the vacant armchair in the corner. They could almost imagine her there, curled up with her eyes intent on the sketchbook before her. Someone else would occupy it, but not the raven-haired teen. Not anymore.

"She..." It was Lucina who finally broke the silence, her voice shaking and laden with choked tears. "She left... her bag here..."

And now she couldn't claim it anymore.

"...I'll inform Stahl," Lon'qu said quietly.

-

From their manager, the messages was passed to their corporate manager. Morgan's parents were contacted, and they came to collect their daughter's belongings. Though the bustle of running a coffee shop resumed as usual, they couldn't shake that underlying sense of lacking. Something was missing from their daily routine at the coffee shop. A sixteen-year-old girl, perched in an armchair in the corner nearest the fireplace, hunched over a sketchbook of enigmatic content.

Then, the night before Christmas Eve, a youth came into the shop.

In one hand he carried an old messenger bag.

"Err... is you manager here?"

-

The staff were assembled together after closing hours. At their center, the messenger bag. The youth who had arrived with it had introduced himself as Yarne - Morgan's brother. He had come to make a delivery, as per his sister's wish; the envelope now in Stahl's hands. Inside was a cheerful handmade Christmas card, wishing all the staff a wonderful Christmas and new year. Inside the card was a folded sheet of paper.

Dear friends at Stahlbucks, the note began.

I do not have much time left. My doctor tells me I won't live to see graduation, so I want to write this while I am still able to function. Thank you for bearing with me these past months; I feel that you are my friends, and I hope you feel the same. It has been a joy and pleasure to know you all.

I leave to you my sketchbook. It only feels right to give it to the shop. Do what you want with it, but I hope it will be a lasting record of our friendship.

Sincerely, Morgan Amani

For a long moment no one spoke. Finally, Lon'qu reached out, lifted the flap, and opened the bag.

There was more than just the sketchbook within. A large, rather lumpy and gaily wrapped package was also there, squashing the sketchbook to one side. Lon'qu removed this first, then the hardcover inheritance. Collectively they watched with bated breath as he flipped open the cover.

Dedicated to the staff at Stahlbucks. Under that was the address of the shop. The next page was a sketch of the store front. Flowers at the window and the date on the bottom right hand corner indicated it was drawn during the spring. While it held minor mistakes here and there in perspective and shading, it was still a piece of art that spoke of an effort to capture the essence of the location.

Every page was the same, each one preserving a moment of time in the shop. A display case of pastries, Olivia at the cash register, the second Olivia moving around the tables, Donnel and Lon'qu at the counter making drinks. A full-body of Kai standing at the door of the shop, broom in hand as she gazed distantly off at some unseen object. Henry and Morgan with deliveries in hand. A record, a memoir, of her days and the people there. This was the coffee shop from the armchair in the corner by the fireplace.

The sketchbook was only halfway filled, and so all eyes fell to the package that had come along with it. Donnel reached out to untie the large scarlet ribbon and pull the paper back.

Nestled together were a collection of teddie bears, each about half a foot tall. Immediately it was clear that these were what Morgan had been sewing the past few weeks, for each of the plush toys were designed to look like a staff member. Sure enough, a small tag tied with ribbon about the bears' necks indicated whom they were meant for.

It was a long while before any of them could make a move to return home.

Lon'qu was the last to move, still holding the sketchbook that weighed like a ton of bricks in his hand. Stahl had instructed him to keep the sketchbook and present wrappings with the bag while he consulted Chrom with what to do with the drawings. His eyes flickered down to skim through the images again. Morgan had spent a great deal of effort to subtly accentuate the staff that appeared within the sketches. A sigh, and he flipped the book closed--

The flash of charcoal at the end pages caught his attention. Curious, he flipped it back open.

Hidden away between unused pages was a portrait: short spiked hair, stern eyes, stoic expression. There was no denying who it was, especially not with the name written there. Lon'qu. Himself. There was a sense of pensiveness to his face in the piece. It was a well-drawn artwork... but why was it all the way in the back, like a tucked-away Easter egg?

There was writing near the bottom of the page.

I hope I get a chance to rip this page out before I go. It'll be embarrassing if they found out...

Found out what? Found out... The barista's gaze flickered back to his name again. There was a heart beside it. Oh. It hit him like a wrecking ball. Her little nuances, the way she seemed to pay just a little more attention to him, how often he could be seen in the backgrounds of so many of her sketches... His eyes flicked down to the date.

Early May. Shortly after their grand opening at this very location.

She must have realized it wouldn't have been possible, and just nursed it in her heart for all those months. And no one had ever had a clue.

Lon'qu made sure no one was around before meticulously ripping the picture out of the book and carefully folding it into his pocket.