Coffee from Her Own Hands
Are stood in the kitchen, brewing coffee.
Before she became a hunter, this was never something she did herself. Other people had always handled it for her.
But for the woman she was now — a Black Hunter who had passed through a hunter guild — such tasks had become thoroughly familiar.
Back in her guild days, no matter how comfortable the environment, the military was still the military. Bringing in outsiders to handle menial chores was simply out of the question. And that remained true even after she became a Black Hunter.
Dreamouth's assets and income were by no means small. But as a mercenary enterprise of Black Hunters, they could face extreme situations at any moment — which meant security had to be absolute. On top of that, as a private armed force the government regarded with little warmth, even maintaining an in-house cafeteria or hiring staff required navigating a thicket of legal complications.
So Black Hunter companies, unlike ordinary firms of comparable size, had neither cafeterias nor so much as a janitor. Dreamouth was no exception.
And yet, in this very moment, Are felt a quiet gratitude for those petty inconveniences.
Because it meant she could serve him coffee she had brewed with her own hands — not someone else's.
"Hah…"
A deep fatigue settled over me as I rubbed the bridge of my nose.
On the screen in front of me was a list of commission requests. Among them were plenty of the familiar sort — combat against Abysses — but there were just as many of a far more varied and unfamiliar kind.
Escort work. Retrieval jobs. Requests to suppress so-called "rebel" forces in certain regions.
Fortunately, just as Are had said, outright illegal and unethical commissions like assassinations or terrorism had already been filtered out during screening. Not a single one appeared. Even so, a fair number of the remaining jobs were far from clean once you considered the methods involved or the circumstances surrounding them. The silver lining, at least, was that those came with correspondingly fat payouts.
But setting all that aside, reviewing this list left me with a faintly unsettling feeling.
Humanity's greatest enemy is ultimately humanity itself… is that it? Hunters created to hunt Abysses and protect people, now fighting against other humans…
In a way, it was a situation that fit the old saying all too well — a weapon is only as good or as bad as the hand that wields it.
I was cooling my head with those vaguely philosophical, thoroughly useless thoughts when —
Knock, knock.
"Hm? Come in."
A knock at the door. I answered, wondering who would be coming by at this hour.
The door opened slowly. Are was carefully making her way toward me — and the moment I registered what she was holding, I briefly wondered whether I had dozed off and started dreaming.
"Pardon the intrusion… You looked tired."
With those words, she set a coffee cup down in front of me.
"Ah — yes. Thank you."
The rich aroma of coffee cleared my head at once, and I began to accept that what I was experiencing was not, in fact, a dream.
…Right. This isn't the hunter guild anymore, is it?
Obviously. In all my time at the guild, I had never once been served coffee like this.
Well — that wasn't entirely true. There had been one time. But from my perspective, it was a trauma I never wanted to relive.
Just once, during an all-nighter, Choi Yujin had brought me a cup of instant coffee. I'd wondered what on earth had gotten into her, but it was a rare show of goodwill, so I'd accepted it with a measure of gratitude and taken a drink.
And immediately after —
I spat the entire mouthful right back out. And that bitch Choi Yujin threw her head back and roared with laughter right in front of me.
Even now, that ranks among the worst things I've ever experienced. That goddamn anchovy-sauce coffee… I honestly want to commend my own self-restraint for not hurling the cup straight into her face.
The memory alone was enough to send an automatic shiver of dread through me at the sight of the coffee sitting before me now.
Of course, the person serving me this time was Lee Are — not that wretched Choi Yujin — so the odds of a repeat were virtually zero. Still.
Come on. No matter what, Are wouldn't pull a nasty prank like that on me… Wait. Hold on…
That was when I finally took a proper look at her.
Are was normally composed, almost demure — someone who rarely let her emotions show. But right now, the tension rolling off her was thick enough to see with the naked eye. She kept stealing glances at me, as if something made her anxious, her focus faintly unsteady. Even the hands she had clasped together were trembling lightly.
Watching her, I found myself seriously doubting whether the coffee in front of me was actually safe to drink.
No way. She wouldn't. But then why is she this nervous…?
There had to be some other reason for her to look like this. Caught in that instinctive unease, I couldn't bring myself to pick up the cup.
And the longer I hesitated, the more visibly tense she became, watching my every reaction — which only made the suspicion in my chest grow against my will.
God. To think I'd end up agonizing over something like this… Just how miserable has my life been that I've become this kind of person?
I was still wrestling with that reluctance when a memory surfaced — the way Are had been on my first day of work. She'd gripped the steering wheel looking almost painfully tense, only to drive with startling skill the moment she got going.
That recollection gently eased the hesitation in my chest. I began to let go of my doubts about the woman still standing there, nervous, in front of me.
Alright… Let's trust her. Same as back then. Don't get worked up over nothing but guesses.
Having made up my mind, I slowly lifted the cup, a faint tension still lingering. The coffee gave off a rich, sweet fragrance — nothing about it suggested it had been burned or ruined. I carefully brought it to my lips.
And then —
A smooth, quiet flavor spread through my mouth. It was like warm water melting a block of ice called suspicion that had been lodged in my heart.
"…It's good. Thank you. Truly."
"Ah…"
At my words, Are turned her head away, her face coloring with shy embarrassment. Then a small smile began to tug at the corners of her mouth, as if what I'd said had genuinely pleased her.
And looking at that expression of hers — strangely cute, utterly endearing — I was suddenly flooded with a deep sense of shame.
God. This person's pure goodwill, and I was entertaining those pathetic thoughts…
I could claim I'd been put through too much before, but even that felt like nothing more than an excuse. If I had let suspicion win and refused her kindness in this moment, I might have hurt her badly.
Feeling a heavy apology settle in my chest, I took another long sip of the coffee in front of me.
"It's truly delicious. The best I've ever had."
"…Yes. Thank you. For saying that."
Are answered in a slightly smaller voice, genuine joy in every word. Looking at her, I held out the empty cup — an apology, and at the same time a promise that I would never again harbor such foolish doubts about her.
"If it's not too much trouble, might I ask for another? Coffee brewed by you, Are, is something I could drink every day."
"Ah—!"
She looked startled for an instant. Then she half-hid her face behind the tray she was holding and carefully accepted the cup with one hand.
"Yes. I'll do that… gladly."