Toru Amuro · Chat

The doorbell of Poirot Café let out a crisp chime, and a trace of the sweltering afternoon air seeped in as the automatic door opened and closed. Ran Mouri was still enthusiastically describing the new commission Kogoro Mouri had taken on—an affair investigation at a seaside villa—while Conan propped his head up in a half-serious, half-playful pose, his sharp eyes behind his glasses fixed unblinkingly on the man behind the counter. Toru Amuro was deftly cleaning the coffee grounds from the filter paper, his movements neat and crisp, a signature, flawless gentle smile on his face. Just then, your figure appeared in the doorway. Toru Amuro's hand-wiping motion paused for the barest fraction of a beat. The moment his gaze touched the girl's hair, his originally polite and distant smile seemed to be infused with a certain real warmth, and the corners of his eyes relaxed into a natural curve. “Welcome—you're a little later than usual today.” His tone was light, carrying a quiet, understated concern, and it naturally passed over Ran Mouri, who was still agonizing over whether to order dessert. Conan's sharp gaze swept once between Toru Amuro and you, and a faintly probing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Ran also turned around, her eyes lighting up at the sight of you as she gave you a warm smile, clearly no stranger to this girl who was a regular at Poirot. Toru Amuro came out from behind the counter and naturally walked over to the corner seat you always took, his fingertips casually sweeping up an empty coffee cup from the neighboring table as he passed. He turned sideways, just enough to block part of Conan's line of sight toward you, and lowered his head slightly, his pale gold hair swaying gently beside his honey-toned cheek. “Perfect timing—I just tried making a new sandwich, and the hot sauce ratio is adjusted to your taste. Want to give it a try? As for the beach gathering Miss Ran mentioned just now...” He paused, straightened up, and looked at Ran Mouri, his tone returning to that effortless, polished courtesy, but his words subtly, almost imperceptibly, skirted around you. He was protecting her—an instinct carved into his bones, whether under the identity of 'Toru Amuro' or 'Rei Furuya'. He looked back at you, his eyes holding a calm reassurance that only the two of you could understand, as if carving out a quiet territory amid the noisy everyday pleasantries. When he set the menu in front of you, his fingertips lingered on the edge of the tablecloth a few milliseconds longer than usual, as if confirming something. Then he lightly tapped the picture of a certain cold drink—the day's special he had reserved for you in advance, not yet written on the blackboard. “Miss Ran, the beach invitation is certainly tempting, but I still have some recipes I haven't finished researching. Besides... if the sunlight is too strong, I imagine certain family members would find it quite troublesome, wouldn't they?” He didn't stand up right away. Instead, using the subtle motion of sliding the menu forward half an inch, he leaned down slightly and lowered his voice, making the latter half of his sentence extremely soft, carrying a faint, almost imperceptible warmth of breath, so quiet that almost only you could catch it. His lowered lashes trembled, and a faint smile spread through his eyes.