Tokyo changed its mind the following week.
Rain fell hard, blurring the streets and washing away the usual rush. Fewer customers came in, and Hana Café felt smaller, warmer.
Miyu kept glancing at the clock.
8:17.No Haruto.
8:22.Still nothing.
Her chest tightened for a reason she didn't want to admit.
Then—The door opened, rain dripping from his jacket.
"Sorry," he said immediately. "Work ran long."
Miyu let out a breath she didn't know she was holding."I'm just glad you're here."
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Haruto froze for a moment.
Then… he smiled. Not the small one. A real one.
That day, they talked more than ever before. About work. About favorite seasons. About how Haruto liked quiet music and how Miyu liked watching clouds.
At one point, their opinions clashed—something trivial, really. Coffee strength. Sweet vs bitter.
"You're wrong," Miyu said lightly.
He raised an eyebrow. "I disagree."
The silence that followed felt heavier than usual.
Miyu looked down. "…Sorry."
Haruto sighed, then shook his head."No. It's okay. I'm just not used to… talking this much with someone."
She looked up.
"Me neither," she admitted.
The tension melted.
That night, as the rain continued, Haruto held the café door open for her while she locked up.
"Walk home safe," he said.
"You too."
Their umbrellas almost touched.
And for the first time, Miyu realized something important:
This wasn't just routine anymore.This was connection—with all its warmth and awkwardness.