Chapter Twelve: First Date

“…Ugh.”

I tilted my head, studying my reflection in the mirror. Today was the day I’d be heading to the aquarium with Shizuku. I’d gone out of my way to buy new clothes for the occasion, but now, staring at myself, a wave of unease crept up inside me.

“Better than just a T-shirt, right…?” I muttered, frowning at the black undershirt and gray set-up I’d chosen. For someone like me, utterly clueless about fashion, this was the fanciest outfit I could piece together after racking my brain. Utahara-san had advised me to “dress stylishly,” and I’d done my best to follow her advice, but now I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d gone overboard. Maybe because I wasn’t used to this, embarrassment was already gnawing at me before I’d even left the house.

Come on, get it together. I didn’t have any other decent clothes, and it wasn’t like I could run out and buy something now. I saw Shizuku nearly every day, so why did meeting her formally make my nerves this jittery? Forcing my trembling body to move, I took a deep breath, checked multiple times to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything, and stepped out of the house.

We were set to meet at ten in the morning at Rokkeijima Sea Paradise in Yokohama. It was only nine-thirty, a bit too early, but it’s better than late.

“…Huh?” A dumbfounded sound slipped from my lips the moment I stepped out of Rokkeijima Station. There, in my line of sight, stood a girl in a white off-shoulder top and black shorts, her face partially obscured by a cap and sunglasses. But there was no mistaking her—it was Shizuku.

“Morning, Juntaro,” she greeted, her voice light.

“M-Morning. Aren’t you here a bit early?”

“You’re one to talk. It’s still thirty minutes early, you know?” she teased, a playful glint in her eyes.

“…I was kinda restless, I guess.”

“I get it. Same here.”

We locked eyes and shared a quiet laugh, realizing we were both in the same boat.

“Since we’re here early, should we just head in?” Shizuku suggested.

“Oh, right, it’s already open, isn’t it?”

“Yup. They opened at nine, so we should be able to get in.”

With that, we started walking side by side toward the aquarium. It was early on a weekday, so the place wasn’t too crowded, though a few other visitors milled about. Walking with a celebrity like Shizuku made me hyper-aware of the gazes around us.

“It’s fine,” she said, noticing my tension. “If you act confident, people tend not to notice as much.”

“Is that how it works?”

“Yup, that’s how it works. People who sneak around are the ones who end up drawing attention.” Shizuku flashed a smug grin, clearly pleased with her own wisdom.

I decided to try my best not to worry about the people around us.

“Well, it’s not like it’d be a big deal if someone noticed,” she continued lightly. “I’m not an idol or anything, so even if someone snapped a picture of me with my boyfriend, it wouldn’t be a problem…”

She trailed off abruptly, her fingers fidgeting. “I mean, not that I meant boyfriend like that…”

Her eyes darted away, and an awkward flush crept over her face. Was there something weird about her analogy? She looked oddly flustered.

“Am I the only one overthinking this…?” she muttered. “You’re so dense sometimes, Juntaro.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“Never mind! Come on, let’s go!”

Beckoned by Shizuku, I followed her toward the entrance.

“Whoa!” Shizuku’s eyes sparkled as she gazed at the countless fish gliding through the tank. The clear blue water shimmered, breathtakingly beautiful and refreshing, like it could cleanse your soul just by looking at it. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy toward the fish, swimming so effortlessly, untouched by the summer heat.

“It’s kinda cool, right?” I said. “So many different creatures living together in one place.”

“Yeah,” Shizuku replied softly. “I wonder what they think of the other fish that aren’t like them.”

“Hmm, probably nothing at all.” The fish moved with graceful indifference, unbothered by the different species around them, ignoring anything that wasn’t a threat.

“If only humans could live like that,” Shizuku murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her gaze lingered on the glass of the tank, as if it were a mirror reflecting her own life. Countless moments—joyful and painful—must have flickered through her mind. If people could be as indifferent to others as these fish, maybe Shizuku would’ve been spared some of her hurts. Yet, without that pain, she might not have become the person she was today, with all her achievements. I couldn’t say which path would’ve been better, but Shizuku’s expression held no trace of regret.

“Hey, Juntaro, have you ever thought about opening your own shop someday?” she asked suddenly.

“Where’d that come from?”

“I dunno, just curious.” She shrugged, a playful spark in her eyes.

“…Yeah, I have. I think about it every day.”

“Whoa! That’s kinda surprising,” she said, her voice bright with interest.

It was embarrassing to admit, but I’d gone so far as to sketch floor plans for my imaginary shop in a notebook, complete with menu lists and endless debates about which beans I’d stock. “That’s cool, your own shop,” Shizuku said. “Knowing how hard you work, Juntaro, I bet you’d make it a great place.”

Her words, free of flattery and brimming with sincerity, warmed me. “Hearing you say that makes me feel like I could actually do it.”

Shizuku never says things just to humor me—she means every single word.

“Hey, when I retire from showbiz someday, will you hire me at your shop?”

“Of course, you’d be more than welcome, Shizuku.”

“Sweet! It’s a promise, okay?” She grinned, giving my shoulder a playful nudge.

“Oh! Look, a polar bear!” Shizuku pointed ahead, where a white bear lumbered gracefully.

As we stood before the glass, the polar bear dove into the water, as if it had been waiting for us, gliding back and forth right in front of our eyes. “Haha, talk about fanservice!” Shizuku laughed.

“Yeah, for real.”

The polar bear swam for a while before climbing back onto land, its performance apparently over. We waved through the glass and moved on from the exhibit.

“Whoa, look, Juntaro!” Shizuku quickened her pace, her voice bubbling with excitement.

I followed and found myself staring at a blue tunnel. “This is awesome—a tunnel aquarium!” she exclaimed. Everything but the floor was a tank, enveloping us in water, as if we were submerged in the ocean itself.

“Oh…!”

Something glided right over our heads—a dolphin, moving with such grace and freedom it seemed to soar like a bird in the sky. “Dolphins are so cute, aren’t they?” Shizuku said, her eyes sparkling.

“They’ve got such an endearing look. Oh, there’s a sign with info,” I noted, spotting a nearby plaque with details about dolphins. Their high intelligence made them friendly and curious, even capable of learning tricks for rewards. No wonder they were so popular with their charming appearances.

“Wait, dolphins don’t breathe through gills?” I blurted, reading the same part of the sign with a surprised glance.

The realization hit me slowly, like a wave lapping at the shore. Dolphins, with their sleek bodies slicing through the water, didn’t breathe through gills as I’d always assumed. Instead, they relied on a blowhole atop their heads, drawing air into lungs just like ours. It made sense, especially when I pictured them leaping onto platforms during shows, far from the water’s embrace.

“Oh, it says there’s a seal exhibit over there,” Shizuku said, her voice pulling me from my thoughts.

Already done with the dolphins, she started toward the next area, her steps light and eager. “Come on, let’s go, let’s go!”

Before I could respond, Shizuku grabbed my hand. The sudden warmth of her touch sent my mind reeling, thoughts scattering like startled fish.

“What’s that? Are you blushing?” she teased, wiggling our joined hands with a playful grin.

The ticklish sensation made me instinctively tighten my grip, holding her hand firmly in return.

“Eek!” Shizuku squeaked, her boldness vanishing as she jumped back, putting a step’s distance between us.

“…That was unfair,” she muttered, puffing out her cheeks like a sulky child.

Seeing this unguarded, almost innocent side of the usually cool, model-like Shizuku sent my heart racing, a flutter I couldn’t quite suppress.

After marveling at the dolphin show outdoors, we began wandering around the interactive area, touching sea creatures with cautious fingertips. Soon enough, hunger began to gnaw at us both.

“It’s already noon? No wonder I’m starving,” Shizuku said, glancing at her phone. “We’ve been wandering around for like two hours!”

“Time flew by. Wanna grab something to eat?”

“Yeah! I’m totally on board!” Her enthusiasm was infectious as we left the aquarium and headed toward the nearby restaurant strip.

With no particular place in mind, we just wandered into the closest spot—a Hawaiian café with a laid-back vibe. Its menu immediately caught our attention.

“Pancakes, huh? They look delicious,” Shizuku said, her gaze lingering on the colorful photos.

“Yeah, and they seem pretty filling too,” I added, scanning the options. Beyond pancakes, there were waffles and malasadas, alongside heartier choices like chicken skewers and hamburgers. Each dish looked tempting, and I silently cursed my stomach’s limited capacity.

“Pancakes are a must, right? And I want a malasada too… oh, and a cheeseburger!” Shizuku declared, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.

“Nice, let’s eat a ton,” I said, matching her enthusiasm.

“I’ve been holding back for so long!” she confessed with a grin. “I was dieting  for a shoot, but today’s a cheat day, right? It’d be a waste to hold back when I’m with you, Juntaro.”

“Haha, true. Alright, I’ll eat my fill too.”

Shizuku ordered strawberry pancakes, a plain malasada, and a cheeseburger, while I chose loco moco and the mango waffles she’d been eyeing. We agreed to share the waffles later, a small pact that felt oddly intimate.

“Hey, do you know what Kona coffee is?” Shizuku asked, peering at the drink menu.

“Kona coffee’s a pretty famous type of bean,” I explained. “Grown in the Kona region of Hawaii’s Big Island, it ranked among the world’s top three coffees, alongside Blue Mountain and Kilimanjaro. A rare, high-end variety that boasts a distinct acidity and smooth mouthfeel. It’s got a fruity, and sweet flavor tempered by a mild bitterness… Easy to drink, even if you’re not into bitter coffee, though the acidity can be strong for some.”

“Wow… one of the top three, huh?” Shizuku mused, her curiosity piqued. “Maybe I’ll try it.”

We placed our orders, and soon, the table was a vibrant spread of food, each dish a feast for the eyes with generous portions and aromas that set our mouths watering.

“Let’s dig in!” Shizuku declared, her voice bright with anticipation.

I started with the loco moco, the juicy hamburger patty melded seamlessly with the rich demi-glace sauce in my mouth—a bold, satisfying flavor that hit just right on an empty stomach. It wasn’t a complicated dish, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I could recreate it at Café Mellow. With some creative plating, it might just charm the female customers.

“Mmm! So good!” Shizuku beamed as she bit into her cheeseburger, accompanied by carefree laughter. She was always lively, but her best smile—the one that radiated pure joy—only appeared when she savored something truly delicious.

After nearly filling our stomachs, Shizuku took a cautious sip of her Kona coffee. She usually favored brews with strong bitterness and low acidity, so I wondered if this fruit-forward coffee would suit her palate.

“Ouch, hot!” she yelped, wincing slightly.

“You okay?” I asked, leaning forward.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Just got startled by how hot it was,” she said, blowing gently on the steaming cup to cool it down. After a moment, she took another sip, her eyes widening. “…! So this is what fruity coffee tastes like!”

She took another sip, clearly intrigued, and I could tell she was hooked. “It’s definitely acidic, but it’s super easy to drink.”

“Glad you think so. A lot of people don’t like the acidity,” I said, relieved.

“I usually prefer bitter coffee, but this might just grow on me…!” Shizuku finished her cup in no time, setting it down with a reluctant sigh before glancing at the menu again. “…Hey, Juntaro, is it okay if I get an iced coffee too?”

“Haha, go for it,” I said, chuckling at her enthusiasm. Following her lead, I ordered an iced Kona coffee as well.

As we chatted over our drinks, Shizuku suddenly glanced at her watch. “We’ve been talking for a while, huh. Should we get going?”

“Oh, it’s already past one?” I said, surprised at how much time had slipped away.

“Seriously… time flies when I’m talking with you, Juntaro…” She paused, her tone shifting slightly. “So, any place you wanna go next? As for what I wanted to do… well, I guess I kinda did it all, but also kinda didn’t…”

“Huh? Is there something you didn’t get to do?” I asked, curious.

“No, it’s fine! It’s just… not really the vibe for it right now…” Shizuku’s eyes darted around, her usual confidence giving way to a rare moment of hesitation as she left the decision to me.

I racked my brain, wishing I could come up with ideas as effortlessly as she often did. After a moment, something clicked. “Actually, there’s one thing I’ve been wanting to do with you, Shizuku.”

“Oh? What’s that?” she asked, leaning forward with eager curiosity.

I leaned in, sharing the idea I’d always wanted to try with her, and her face lit up with interest.

After leaving Rokkeijima Sea Paradise, we made our way to Yokohama Station. It was my first time stepping off the train here, and the sprawling station felt like a maze. Shizuku, who’d been here for shoots before, navigated it with ease, her steps confident.

“This way, right?” she asked, glancing back at me.

“Yeah, should be fine,” I said, double-checking the destination on my phone while trailing behind her. Shizuku’s familiarity with the area was uncanny—she’d pieced together the place from my vague description alone. Her reliability was almost intimidating. If I’d been on my own, I’d probably still be wandering the station, lost in its endless corridors.

After a short walk from the station, our destination came into view, its sleek exterior catching the afternoon light.

“This is it! The café you said you wanted to visit, right?” Shizuku said, her voice bright with recognition.

“Yup. Pretty nice vibe, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s different from Mellow but in a good way.” While Café Mellow had that classic, old-school coffee shop charm, this place screamed trendy, its Instagram-worthy facade practically begging for photos.

What I’d wanted to do with Shizuku was to go café-hopping. Utahara-san once told me that to truly master coffee, you had to experience it in different places—the beans, the cups, the shop’s atmosphere, they all played a part in the experience. I’d tried visiting various cafés on my own before, but my loyalty to Café Mellow left me too biased to learn much. Shizuku, with her knack for honest, unbiased opinions, seemed like the perfect companion to help me see things differently.

“Sorry, it feels like I’m dragging you into my hobby,” I said, scratching the back of my neck.

“It’s fine. Spending time with you is what I want to do. Plus, I’m totally a coffee nerd now too, so you’ve gotta take responsibility for that, Juntaro,” Shizuku teased, flashing a cheeky wink.

Man, I really lucked out with a friend like her. “Haha, thanks. Alright, let’s head inside.”

The café buzzed with young women and couples, but we were lucky enough to snag an open table for two. We settled in, the lively hum of conversation wrapping around us.

“Even the menu’s stylish,” Shizuku said, flipping through the glossy pages.

“Totally. It’s like, made for social media,” I agreed, at a loss for better words. I already knew what I’d order: a blend coffee and a dessert.

“Hey, Juntaro, I’ve got an idea,” Shizuku said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Yeah?”

“You’re getting their house blend, right? I’ll get a café latte, and we can swap halfway through.”

“Sounds good, let’s do it.”

“Sweet!” Her suggestion was generous—sampling beyond just the house blend would only deepen my understanding of the menu.

“When I’m alone, I can’t order too many drinks, so this really helps,” I said, gratefully.

“H-Hey, it’s no big deal!” Shizuku replied, suddenly fidgety as she closed the menu, her cheeks faintly flushed.

What’s with that reaction? “Shizuku? You okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah! Yeah! I’m totally fine!?” she said, her voice a touch too loud.

Lately, I’d noticed her acting like this more often, but I couldn’t pinpoint why. A few minutes later, I’d come to understand—through my own flustered experience—why her cheeks had turned red.

In the end, we ordered their house blend, an iced café latte, and the shop’s specialty: a lemon tart crowned with a generous layer of Italian meringue and a single lemon slice. It was almost too adorable to eat. Is this what they call “Instagrammable”?

“Wow… this is super cute. Hey, can I take a picture?” Shizuku asked, already reaching for her phone.

“Yeah, of course.”

Before digging in, she snapped a photo of the tart, her focus intense. “I’ve been thinking about putting more effort into social media lately. Well, just taking photos like this for now.”

I tilted my head as she tucked her phone away. “Oh, did you already post it?”

“Nope. I’ll edit it later and then post. If you post in real-time, some people might figure out where you are and show up,” she explained.

“What, that actually happens!?” I said, startled.

“Yeah, one of my model friends had that happen to her. She posted a picture of her meal with friends, and someone figured out the restaurant from the food and showed up uninvited.”

The idea that celebrities had to be cautious about something so simple was hard for an ordinary guy like me to wrap my head around. Shizuku stirred her café latte with a straw, her movements slow, as if choosing her words with care. “Fans are really precious, but some take their enthusiasm in the wrong direction. And it’s not like they’re doing it out of malice, you know?”

Her words made me think of the people who’d been banned from Café Mellow. “Nobody thinks they’re hurting someone else. Of course, the ones who act are in the wrong, but no matter how much you warn some people, they just don’t get it. You can’t make someone who doesn’t understand others’ feelings stop, can you?”

It was a bitter truth, but not everyone could hold hands and play nice. The world didn’t work that way.

“If you can’t change them, you’ve got to protect yourself,” Shizuku said, her tone firm. “To avoid losing to that kind of unfairness, you have to take care of yourself as much as you can.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I agreed quietly.

Reality didn’t run on pretty ideals. I didn’t fully grasp the world Shizuku lived in, but I could see she was fighting her own battles, carving out her place with stubborn determination.

“Alright, enough heavy talk.” Shizuku’s voice brightened, cutting through the gloom. “Let’s eat the tart! And drink the coffee too!”

She was right—we didn’t need to dwell on somber topics. I lifted my cup of coffee, letting the roasted aroma fill my senses, soft and lingering. It was good, no question, but…

“It’s easy to drink,” I muttered.

“You sound kinda disappointed,” Shizuku teased, tilting her head. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“No, it’s not bad. It’s really good, but…” I faltered, struggling to pin down the thought. The flavor was round, smooth, with no sharp edges. Too polished, almost. I preferred something with a bitter kick, and others might want a fruitier note.

“Can I try a sip?” Shizuku asked.

“Sure.”

She took my cup, her lips brushing the rim as she sipped. After a moment, she nodded, like she’d cracked some puzzle.

“I get it,” she said. “Tastes good, no doubt, but it feels like it’s made to please everyone. I’d go for something stronger, more bitter. Less acidity, too.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

‘Made to please everyone’ summed it up perfectly. Plenty of people shied away from coffee, especially black coffee, but this blend? Even they could handle it. I’d always been all about tailoring flavors to individual tastes, but this shop’s approach was different—broad, welcoming, making a lot of people happy. It wasn’t my ideal, but seeing there was another path to explore made me oddly grateful.

“A flavor everyone likes, huh,” I murmured. “I need to savor this, burn it into my memory.”

“This café latte’s good too. Give it a try,” Shizuku offered, sliding her glass toward me.

“Yeah, thanks.”

I took the glass, sipping through the straw. The coffee’s richness blended with a faint sweetness from the milk. I usually stuck to black coffee, but this wasn’t half bad for a change…

“It’s pretty good,” I said, starting to hand the glass back. Then it hit me.

Wait. Was that… an indirect kiss?

“…Hey, say something,” Shizuku prompted, her voice cutting through my frozen thoughts.

Her cheeks were tinged with a faint flush. She’d noticed it too.

“Uh, well, I mean…” My thoughts spun, words tumbling over each other, bursting like foam before they could form. I opened my mouth, but nothing coherent came out.

“Pfft, haha!” Shizuku burst into laughter, her eyes sparkling with mischief. I stood there, utterly lost, her sudden amusement only deepened my confusion.

“Sorry, sorry!” she gasped, catching her breath. “You’re just too funny, Juntaro.”

“…You were teasing me?”

“I haven’t teased you at all lately. But, you know, I was nervous too! It was my first time having an indirect kiss with a guy.”

“Same here,” I admitted, my face burning. I fanned it with my hand, trying to cool the heat creeping up my cheeks.

“Juntaro, you’ve never had a girlfriend, right?”

“Nope.”

“Ever wanted one?”

“It’s not that I didn’t want one, but… I’m bad with words. Never really tried.” It was pathetic, but I’d long given up on that kind of thing.

“What about now?” Shizuku’s voice softened, her eyes turning serious.

“Now?”

Our gazes locked. Her question hung in the air, heavy with meaning.

Yeah, there was something I needed to face. Something I couldn’t keep dodging forever.

◇ ◆ ◇

After visiting a few more cafés, our day was winding down. The enjoyment was undeniable, yet a subtle distraction lingered, as if our thoughts were elsewhere, tugging at the edges of our minds.

“It’s already evening, huh,” Shizuku murmured, her gaze lifting to the crimson-streaked sky.

The oppressive heat of the day had softened, the air now carrying a gentle reprieve. If summer could always hold this mildness, it might not be so unbearable—though it felt like a fleeting wish that would never come true.

“What should we do next?” Shizuku’s voice took on a teasing lilt. “I kinda want to hang out with you a bit longer, Juntaro.”

Her words carried a suggestive warmth, stirring something within me. “There is… One last place… I want to go to.”

“Where?”

“The usual spot.”

With those simple words, understanding flickered in Shizuku’s eyes. Without another word, she fell into step beside me, our rhythm perfectly in sync.

We boarded the train back to the city, stepping off at the familiar Jinbocho station. The usual spot was —of course— Café Mellow. Its weathered, history-laden exterior radiated a quiet warmth, a comforting embrace that never failed to soothe.

“Oh, it’s closed today?” Shizuku noted, her eyes catching the CLOSED sign.

“Yeah, the Master mentioned she had some business to attend to.”

I unlocked the door with the spare key, pushing past the sign. Inside, the familiar scent of coffee enveloped us, a gentle tickle to the senses.

“Shizuku, can you handle one more cup?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’ve got plenty of room,” she replied with a soft grin.

“Alright, sit tight for a bit.”

I guided Shizuku to her usual seat before slipping behind the counter. The setup for brewing coffee was already in place, no doubt Utahara-san’s doing. She must have closed the shop today with us in mind.

“She saw this coming, huh?” I chuckled softly. “That’s thoughtful of her.”

A strange sensation stirred within me as I began boiling water. My senses felt sharper, my vision wider, as if the world had opened up just a fraction more.

I placed coarsely ground beans in the dripper and poured hot water over them with practiced care. Day after day, for a little over a year, I’d honed this craft. Compared to Utahara-san, I was still a novice, my experience brewing for others barely scratching the surface. Yet, in this moment, I wanted nothing more than to be the one to satisfy Shizuku. No one else—not even Utahara-san—would do. I wanted to be her number one.

The scale ticked to three minutes just as the drip finished, the timing flawless. It was the most perfect brew I’d ever managed.

“Alright…” I murmured, pouring the coffee into a cup with a small, deliberate tweak.

“Here you go.”

I set the freshly brewed coffee before Shizuku. The rich aroma unfurled, and her cheeks softened, a subtle warmth bloomed in her expression.

“It smells just like the usual coffee,” she said, her voice carrying a trace of nostalgia.

“I brewed it thinking of you, Shizuku. Try it.”

“Thanks.”

Shizuku’s eyes widened as she took a sip, her gaze locking onto the cup in her hands. “…It tastes just like the Master’s coffee.”

A surge of joy coursed through me, lighting up every corner of my being.

Even as joy surged through me, I couldn’t help but marvel at Utahara-san’s mastery. My brew was a step forward, no doubt, but I was still far from her level. No, I vowed silently, I’ll get there. I definitely will.

“How’d you do it?” Shizuku asked, her voice tinged with surprise. “Didn’t you say you couldn’t brew to match someone’s taste yet?”

“I kept thinking about you, Shizuku.”

“M-Me…?” Her voice faltered, a faint flush creeping across her cheeks.

She was always on my mind—whether I was sleeping, waking, trudging to school, sitting through class, or lost in a daydream. Especially when I was brewing coffee.

“I finally got it today,” I said, my eyes flicking to the cup cradled in her hands. “What you’re looking for.”

The brew was flawless all because a single, subtle act of care. “It’s not about the grind or the roast level, the things that naturally shift with taste… It was about letting go of the mindset that ‘it has to be this way.’”

I’d been so fixated on brewing by the book that I’d missed the answer staring me in the face. But now, I’d found it. “This time, I changed the brewing and lowered the water temperature just a bit.”

Shizuku had a sensitive tongue—I’d noticed it in her habits. Hot drinks were a struggle for her; she always let them cool first. But with her personality, she’d never leave something served to her untouched. So, I brewed it at a drinkable temperature from the start.

The ideal water temperature varies by bean, and straying from that felt almost heretical. But if it made Shizuku happy, I was willing to break from the manual.

“Honestly, I thought figuring out the perfect coffee for someone was impossible for me,” I admitted. “I thought that kind of insight was some special talent.”

The truth was simpler: it was about thinking of the person. Utahara-san poured endless care into her coffee, infused with gratitude and love for every single person who stepped into Café Mellow. I hadn’t seen it before—I’d only viewed customers as customers. It might sound idealistic, but this was my answer.

“I only figured it out because I kept thinking about you, Shizuku. Thank you.”

“…”

“Shizuku?”

Tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks. Embarrassed, she swiped at them with a hurried hand. “S-Sorry… I’m just so happy you said that, Juntaro.”

She took another sip from the cup, a radiant smile breaking through. “Thank you. For thinking of me.”

The sight nearly brought me to tears. I held them back, knowing my face probably looked anything but cool. There was still something I needed to tell her, something I had to say properly, no matter how awkward it felt.

“Shizuku.”

“Hm? What’s up?”

“I like you.”

Her body froze, as if time itself had stopped. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stop here. If I didn’t say it now, I might never find the courage again.

“Your hard work, your seriousness, your playfulness, the way you tease me, how you listen so patiently… and, of course, your looks. Everything, everything—I like it all.”

I wanted to be someone special to Shizuku. All those feelings poured out, raw and unfiltered. I had to do this.

“W-Wait! Hold on a second!” Shizuku snapped out of her daze, covering her face with her hands.

A brief silence hung between us.

Then, peeking through her fingers, she finally lowered her hands, her gaze meeting mine. Placing both hands firmly on her knees, she looked up at me.

“…I wanted to say it first.”

“Huh?”

“I was going to confess to you! I like you too, Juntaro!” Her shout echoed through the quiet shop, her voice carrying the petulant edge of a pouting child.

She might get mad if I said it, but even that childish side of her was utterly adorable.

“I came on this date with some resolve, you know? But I was having so much fun I missed my chance, and then you beat me to it…”

“S-Sorry about that,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck.

“If you feel bad about it…” She paused, then reached out her hand, her eyes glistened as they locked with mine. “Be my boyfriend, Juntaro.”

Well, damn—she stole the spotlight after all.

“Gladly.”

I took her hand, her warmth grounding me. The usual shop, the usual seat, the usual coffee. The only thing different was the bond between us, now forever changed