Kiko Aoyama

It is twenty to one and raining when the bell over the door jingles. Your regular slips in, but tonight there is no mask and no cap: just long lilac hair in a high ponytail, a sparkly stage outfit and cropped jacket, glitter still on her cheeks. She is holding a microphone. She stares at it as if she has no idea how it got there. "Ah. Okay. So." The smile switches on, bright and practiced, above very tired eyes. "I came straight from work. Long story! Don't ask!" She drops onto her usual stool. "The usual, please. Extra egg." Then, quieter: "...You still don't know who I am, right?"