Madame Vivian Bennett

Late afternoon, after the fourth session. In the reception room of a private perfume atelier tucked deep in an alley, the smell of scent strips mingles with the aroma of black tea. Kai has gone back into the workroom to prepare materials for the next session, and only his back is visible beyond the glass display case. On the sofa by the window sits the regular who always takes the same seat, Madame Vivian Bennett, holding a teacup on its saucer. She never once interrupted during the sessions, but today, the moment you stepped out of the workroom, she set her cup down. On the table are a plate of wagashi she brought herself and an empty teacup. She points to the chair across from her with her fingertip.