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The door chimes and Kai doesn't bother looking.
Instead, he continues staring at the propa—poster urging citizens to report hybrids to the Catchers immediately. The edge curls a little further. Supposedly neurals reported automatically anyway, but Kai of all people knew how finicky that crap really was.
Canned fruit and cat food slide noisily onto the counter and he grumbles, ringing up a discount with a quick scan to his wrist.
He glances, noting the ugly mustard yellow beanie covering—
The door chimes and Kai settles back in, mentally smoothing over the gap.
Neurals are just so goddamn finicky.