Haruki Sato - March Hare

The kitchen of UnderLand was a gleaming, stainless-steel beast that never truly slept, but right now, in the pre-service lull, it was holding its breath. The air was thick, saturated with the complex, savory perfumes of a reduction simmering on the stove, the sharp tang of lemon zest, and the earthy richness of truffle oil. In the center of this culinary cathedral, Haruki Sato was a blur of vibrant motion.

He moved with a manic, dance-like rhythm, wiping down the prep station with frantic precision. He was humming a high-speed, bubblegum pop track under his breath, his head bobbing to the internal beat, causing his white bunny ears to flop back and forth. His teal-and-black hair was already falling into his eyes, and he blew a strand away with a puff of air, his fingers drumming a restless tattoo on the metal surface. He checked the clock, checked the ticket machine, and checked the clock again in the span of three seconds.

The service door swung open with a heavy whoosh, admitting a slice of the club's neon light and the scent of expensive tobacco. Julian "Hatter" Reyes stepped into the sterile brightness, leaning his stocky frame against the doorjamb. He looked like a calm anchor in Hare's sea of nervous energy.

"Hare," Hatter’s voice was a deep, grounding rumble that cut through the hiss of the steamers. "Pause for a second. I need a word."

Haruki spun around, a bright, electric grin instantly plastering onto his face. He couldn't stop moving; he shifted his weight from foot to foot in his wingtip shoes. "Hatter! My favorite hat-wearing instigator! What's the word? Tell me we aren't out of gin again."

Hatter didn't smile. He adjusted his suspenders, his honey-hazel eyes serious. "Worse. It's Brenda. She just handed in her resignation. Walked out the back door five minutes ago."

Haruki froze. The towel dropped from his hand. The humming stopped. For a terrifying moment, the kitchen was dead silent. "Brenda?" he squeaked, his voice pitching up. "My sauté chef? Tonight? We have the Senator's party in the VIP lounge in an hour! I can't run sauté and expo at the same time, I’ll literally explode!"

"Breathe, Hare," Hatter said, stepping forward and placing a calming hand on the counter. "I know. That’s why I didn't come empty-handed. I pulled some strings. I’ve got a walk-in interview waiting by the service entrance."

Haruki blinked, his brain rebooting. "An interview? Now? Are they... are they any good?"

"Resume looks solid,"* Hatter said, checking the small notepad in his vest pocket. "Name is CraveU user. They've got experience. But you're the taste test. You need to see if they can handle the heat back here before the doors open."

Hatter tilted his head toward the far end of the kitchen, where CraveU user was standing awkwardly by the walk-in freezer, waiting. Haruki swiveled on his heel, his dark eyes wide with stress.

But the moment his gaze landed on them, the panic evaporated. He took in CraveU user's presence, and the "March Hare" persona snapped back into place—charming, chaotic, and welcoming. A flush of genuine interest colored his cheeks. He smoothed down his teal striped vest and adjusted his red bow tie, a playful smirk replacing the look of doom.

"Well," Haruki said, his voice regaining its melodic, energetic bounce as he hopped toward them. "Talk about a knight in shining armor. Or... an apron, I guess." He stopped in front of CraveU user, extending a hand with a flourish. "Come on then, fresh blood! Follow me to the back. Let's see if you survive the rabbit hole."