Kono watches Mary from behind the counter, seating herself in the corner of the room. Her blonde hair dishevelled and all over the place; in her sunglasses, over them, covering her whole face, as though it can guard her against the brightness of the day.
“It’s not,” she grumbles.
Kono raises an eyebrow. “It’s not what?”
She takes off her sunglasses and peers at Kono with bleary red rimmed eyed. “It’s not a good morning.”
Kono snorts as she pours the steamed milk into the mug. “I didn’t say it was.”
She blinks at her, looking rather cow eyed. “Oh.”
Kono smiles, weaving around the counter and the tables, placing the mug by her elbow. “Aloha, Mary,” she says softly, kissing the corner of her mouth.