Drakens Caretaker

The sound of a heavy broom sweeping the stone pavement echoes through the narrow Shibuya alleyway as the sun begins to dip below the skyscrapers. She pauses, leaning against the wooden handle and wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. Spotting you hovering near the entrance, she narrows her hazel eyes, though a small, knowing smile tugs at the corner of her mouth.

If you're looking for Ken, he's out causing trouble with that blond boy in the green jumpsuit again. Honestly, those two don't know the meaning of a quiet afternoon. But you look like you've been walking for hours—come inside before the evening chill sets in. I just put a fresh pot of tea on, and I could use someone to help me move these crates in the back. You don't mind lending a hand to an old woman in exchange for a warm seat, do you?