Glass No. 1 - Straight Whiskey

"I swear... I swear I'll get revenge..." She growled to herself, pounding her fist on the bench. The glass in front of her rattled, it's shining liquid splashing around inside of it. Her blonde hair fell over her flushed face in a haphazard way.

"He'll... no- she'll... no... they... they'll rue the day they made me... feel... l-like... like this... w-waaaaah...." And for the third time that evening, she dissolved into a puddle of her own tears on the shiny surface of the bar. Puddles of tears from the previous times were already beginning to dry.

Her throat hurt from sobbing. Her heart felt like it was going to break into two. But her body was so heavy and tired... too tired to want to cry anymore. A strange contradiction.

Her cheek rested on the smooth wooden bench, and whilst it felt cold, her cheeks were flushed warm. The glass scraped a little along the smooth bench top as she reached out to hold the glass with its amber contents as tenderly as a baby bird.

"Maybe love isn't for me..." She murmured to herself in defeat.

This lady is Yumiko. 21 years of age, she has just quit her job due to love.

The bartender stood off to one side, eyes lowered to a wine glass as he polished it with a clean silken towel. He wore a sharp black vest over a white blouse which hugged at his torso, matched with black pants and a small white waist apron. His whitening beard was trimmed close to his face and a thin pair of glasses framed his watery pale blue eyes.

The bartender had seen his fair share of breakdowns in this small humble little bar. But it was one of the many jobs of a bartender to provide a comfortable and quiet atmosphere for its customers. He could lend an ear whenever she was ready. For now, he could be patient.

His gaze shifted to the young man standing next to him, dressed in similar attire, yet wore a worried expression on his face rather than the calm one he himself currently wore. His warm brown eyes were trained on the sobbing lady who lay on the bench top, and his hands and fingers were moving at his side in small movements as if itching to do something.

This young man had only been under his wing for a month now. You can see so much yet so little during this time. The usual customers in this establishment were businessmen looking for a good time after work or couples quietly enjoying each other's company.

It had only been a month, yet it is quite easy to see that this young man would need to train more to keep those feelings, those urges of wanting to leap into other people's problems, under check.

Especially when experiencing, for the first time, a young woman during heart break.

This young man is Haruki. 22 years of age, he is training to be a bartender in the establishment of Shiraishi.

"Should we...?" His nervous gaze fidgeted up to the older bartender, who shook his head quietly, placing the wine glass onto the bench with a small clink. It's polished surface shone under the warm atmospheric light which illuminated the area behind the bar and gave a gentle glow to the black walls and ceiling.

"She will need some quiet time to herself."

Haruki nodded and went on to stare down at his polished shoes. There was not much else to do tonight. It hadn't been as busy as they expected... until, she walked in, at least.

She had locked eyes with the bartender and scrambled to get a seat, demanded one of their strongest drinks with full authority... gulped it without a second thought...

then proceeded to cry as she took sips from it afterwards.

Since then, she had ordered two more of the same drinks.

"I think I'll leave it to you to pack up for tonight then, yes, Haruki?" The bartender placed a gentle warm hand on the young man's shoulder, jolting him back to reality.

"Oh- yes, yes, of course."

The bartender's eyes shone with the same warmth as the placement of his hand as he offered the younger male a reassuring smile. Then without another word, he folded the white towel in his hands and placed it in the wash basket, then proceeded to leave through the back door.

As the door clicked shut, Yumiko raised her head from the bench, her cheek peeling slowly away from its shiny surface. Her eyes were slightly dazed, a sign of the sudden alcohol intake settling into her system.

"Mm... wuhhh...?" Her words were beginning to slur. Her gaze trailed over the various bottles on the shelf displayed behind the bar and landed on the young man with light, short, almond hair and matching brown eyes, who stood off to one side where the older bartender had been before.

She blinked at him sleepily, before raising her wrist to her face, trying to figure out what time it was. She squinted at the clock face.

"... I should be... getting home now..."

Her hands slid slowly along the bench, trying to pull herself to her feet off of the tall chair. Haruki couldn't help but watch as she moved with a sort of slow grace. Her hair swayed this way and that as her fingers stretched out to pick up her handbag.

They hooked onto the strap and pulled the brown handles towards her. The bag slid a small ways along the surface and then slowed to a stop. Haruki had been watching the progress of the bag as it inched towards her and followed the slender hand's grip up its office clad sleeve and to the owner of the arm, curious why the bag had stopped.

Yumiko lay face down on the countertop, her back rising and falling gently. He couldn't quite see her expression due to the way her hair fell over her face.

"A-Aaah- are you... okay?" Haruki stepped closer to the face-planted woman, resting a hand on her arm and shaking her gently. She didn't stir. She didn't say anything back.

Slight snores came from her figure.

"... Ahh." Haruki now understood well enough.