MUNDANE HURT: Chapter 18

Previous TOC Next

The interview for the magazine was over. The journalist, a woman with smooth, youthful skin suggesting she was around twenty-five or twenty-six, smiled as she thanked him. She began packing away her notepad and pens.

"I’ll email you the draft for the article," she said. "If you notice anything you’d like corrected, please let us know before the deadline."

She’s so young—about half my age. Reflecting on this, the café’s owner, now fifty-two, remembered his own twenties. Back then, he was working for a printing company and spending his breaks scouring Tokyo for the best coffee shops.

The quiet atmosphere was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. In walked Nishizaki, his greeting as lackluster as his posture. "Morning," he muttered, yawning dramatically as he blinked several times against the mid-morning light.

Upon seeing the unfamiliar interviewer, Nishizaki visibly panicked and glanced up at the wall clock. "Oh crap," he sighed in relief, placing a hand on his chest. "Thought I was late."

It seemed he’d mistaken the interviewer for a customer. The café didn’t open until eleven, but Nishizaki was scheduled to clock in at 10:15 to clean and prepare the shop for the day.

Nishizaki occasionally showed up late. Whenever he didn’t arrive on time, a phone call would invariably lead to him apologizing groggily: "Sorry, I overslept." He had once claimed to be "terrible in the mornings," but since he lived nearby, he could always arrive within ten minutes of being called. He’d apologize profusely, even offering to have his pay docked, but the café owner had never done so. Nishizaki always made up for lost time by working extra hours without complaint.

"There was a magazine interview," the owner explained. "I asked them to come before opening hours."

The café had a policy of conducting interviews outside of business hours whenever possible. While major publications would usually visit on the café’s day off, smaller magazines sometimes arranged interviews early in the morning or late at night.

"Won’t being in a magazine bring even more customers?" Nishizaki quipped as he disappeared into the changing room at the back.

The interviewer, Shiraishi, watched Nishizaki’s retreating figure and asked, "Is he one of your employees?"

“Yes, he’s quite handsome, isn’t he?” Sasaki replied with a teasing smile.

Shiraishi’s cheeks turned a faint red as she touched her face with the back of her hand.

“The manager and chef are handsome too, but even your employees are good-looking,” she said with genuine admiration.

Sasaki felt a mischievous urge to tease her further. Leaning in slightly, he lowered his voice.

“Actually,” he whispered, “we hire based on looks.”

Shiraishi’s eyes widened, and she nodded seriously, saying, “Is that so?” Her earnest reaction made Sasaki laugh, prompting him to wave his hand dismissively.

“Just kidding,” he said quickly, trying to smooth over the misunderstanding.

He continued, “He came here saying he wanted to work because he thought our uniforms were cool. Not because of a love for coffee or anything.”

Shiraishi tilted her head, her expression skeptical. “Not for the coffee? Just the uniforms? That seems…”

Before she could finish, Sasaki cut her off with a laugh, gesturing toward the door.

“Like a student’s whim, right?”

At that moment, Nishizaki emerged from the back, wearing the café’s signature uniform: a crisp white shirt, black trousers, and a garçon apron. His loosely styled hair, artfully messy, framed his sharp features perfectly. Despite his good looks, there was a casual air about him—approachable, yet radiating a subtle allure.

“Boss, should I clean now, or later?” Nishizaki asked, his tone indifferent but not rude.

Shiraishi’s eyes followed Nishizaki’s every movement, darting from right to left as he crossed the room. Even Sasaki, who knew Nishizaki well, could see how his coworker’s charm captivated her. It wasn’t surprising; Nishizaki had that effect on people.

“Is there anything else you’d like to ask for the interview?” Sasaki said, snapping Shiraishi out of her trance.

“Oh! No, I’m sorry—I was spacing out,” she said, hurriedly gathering her notebook and pens into her bag. “Thank you so much for your cooperation.”

Sasaki nodded and turned to Nishizaki. “Go ahead and start cleaning.”

“Got it,” Nishizaki replied, grabbing a mop and beginning his routine. He moved steadily from the front entrance toward the back of the café.

Shiraishi, meanwhile, seemed to light up with a sudden idea. Her eyes sparkled as she asked, “Would it be okay if I took a photo of one of your employees?”

Sasaki glanced at Nishizaki. “Let’s ask him. Nishizaki!”

Nishizaki looked up from his mop, visibly uncomfortable as the request was relayed.

“I’m not great with photos,” he said with an apologetic smile, bowing slightly. “Sorry, but I’ll have to decline.”

“Oh… I see,” Shiraishi replied, her voice dropping a tone, clearly disappointed.

Later, as Nishizaki finished mopping and returned to the counter, he casually showed Sasaki a business card. “The journalist just hit on me,” he said, half-joking.

Standing nearby, Hashizume—the café’s chef—looked up from writing the day’s lunch specials on the chalkboard. “You seriously get hit on a lot, huh?” he said, shaking his head in mock exasperation.

Hashizume, a former chef at a French restaurant, had left the fine dining world in favor of a café’s more relaxed kitchen. Now thirty-five, he was married to a woman seven years his junior, with a five-year-old daughter. Despite his ruggedly handsome looks, his muscular build and crew cut gave him a gruff, unrefined air, unlike Nishizaki’s effortless charm.

“Must be the lingering skills from my host days,” Nishizaki joked, grinning.

Sasaki chuckled. Nishizaki, even past thirty, had a rare magnetism. He’d once mentioned dropping out of university after his parents died and he couldn’t afford tuition. Desperate for income, he became a host but had to quit after damaging his health.

“Think I could make a comeback in the host world?” Nishizaki mused with a smirk. “I bet I’d still rake it in.”

“Except you can’t drink,” Hashizume retorted, deadpan.

“True,” Nishizaki admitted. “My liver’s… delicate.”

“Delicate? You mean trashed,” Hashizume shot back. “Didn’t you say you wrecked it from binge drinking?”

“Oh, right. Yeah, guess I did,” Nishizaki replied, laughing it off as he moved to the register to check the cash float.

Two years ago, Nishizaki walked into the café out of nowhere and said, "I want to work here because the uniform looks cool." Sasaki’s first impression was What is this guy even talking about at his age? Nishizaki had the cleanliness expected for customer service work, but there was also a hesitant, almost timid air about him. The café wasn’t the kind of place with wages high enough to attract a man in his late twenties who looked like he could work anywhere.

Coincidentally, one of their university student employees had just announced they’d be leaving the following month. Sasaki had been considering starting recruitment soon, so he decided to take Nishizaki’s unsolicited job application as a sign of fate and sat down for an impromptu interview.

As they talked, Nishizaki’s background and upbringing began to come into view. Despite his casual speech, his posture and refined gestures hinted at an affluent family. Although Nishizaki admitted to having worked as a host, he also had prior customer service experience, lived nearby, and was available to work full days from opening to closing. These factors ultimately convinced Sasaki to hire him.

When Sasaki told the café’s chef, Hashizume, about hiring a former host, the reaction was less than enthusiastic.

“A host? I don’t do well with flashy types,” Hashizume grumbled. Then, with a pointed look, he added, “You hired him for his looks, didn’t you, Sasaki?”

But within a week of Nishizaki starting work, Hashizume’s opinion shifted. “He’s good, isn’t he?” he said approvingly. Whether it was his host experience or natural charisma, Nishizaki had an uncanny ability to handle female customers. He engaged them with just enough small talk to make them feel welcome but never wasted time on idle chatter. Moreover, his work was precise and diligent.

True to his initial motivation, Nishizaki looked exceptional in the café’s uniform. While the previous student employee had worn it well, Nishizaki took it to another level. Curious, Sasaki asked him about it, and Nishizaki explained it was the small details—rolling up the sleeves slightly or adjusting the way the tie was knotted. These seemingly minor adjustments transformed the overall look, something Sasaki himself found eye-opening. Nishizaki’s sharp appearance, coupled with his charm, drew more female customers, boosting sales by 20%.

After a year of working part-time, Sasaki offered Nishizaki a full-time position.

“Are you serious? That’s awesome!” Nishizaki said, his joy unrestrained.

Sasaki wasn’t about to let such a capable worker remain in the uncertainty of a part-time role. He wanted to secure Nishizaki as a full-fledged employee.

The café didn’t have a strict policy against workplace romance, as long as any relationships didn’t disrupt operations. Sasaki had conveyed this to Nishizaki as well, but despite his good looks and undeniable charisma, there was no sign of a romantic partner in Nishizaki’s life. He skillfully deflected advances from serious customers, maintaining a professional distance.

Though Sasaki was curious about Nishizaki’s private life, he refrained from asking. Hashizume, however, was less reserved.

“Man, you’re popular, but you don’t have a girlfriend? What’s up with that?” he asked directly.

Nishizaki shrugged it off with a wry smile. “Used up all my love tickets back when I was a host.”

Sasaki couldn’t help but find this explanation plausible. After all, a job that involves selling the illusion of romance could easily lead to disillusionment or fatigue with real relationships.

Nishizaki’s lack of interest in dating and his disarming reply satisfied Hashizume’s curiosity. He accepted Nishizaki’s stance without further questions.

“Como Café,” as the establishment was known, was unique. Sasaki himself traveled abroad to source coffee beans and roasted them in-house. During his trips, which often lasted weeks, he left the café entirely in the hands of Nishizaki and Hashizume.

Despite Nishizaki’s blunt admission—"I like the smell of coffee, but honestly, I hate the bitterness. I don’t even get why people drink it straight"—Sasaki was impressed by his openness. He brewed a bright, fruity blend from his custom-roasted beans and offered it to Nishizaki.

“This is amazing! It’s not bitter at all!” Nishizaki exclaimed, his reaction as genuine and unguarded as a child’s.

That moment seemed to have a strong impact on Nishizaki. He eagerly absorbed Sasaki’s coffee lessons, quickly learning the different bean varieties and roasting techniques. Though the café prided itself on its food, coffee remained the centerpiece of its menu, offering seven to eight varieties at any given time.

When customers were unsure of what to order, Nishizaki would explain the beans and roast profiles in detail, then recommend his personal favorite: a vibrant, fruity coffee. His enthusiasm was infectious, and his approachable manner, combined with his good looks, made him popular with female customers. Even when he occasionally arrived late for his shifts, Nishizaki made up for it with his diligent work ethic. Sasaki often found himself thinking, I really hired a gem.

＊ ＊ ＊

During the morning before the café opened, Nishizaki moved methodically through his routine—adjusting the table arrangements, dusting the shelves with a handheld mop, and preparing for the day. After completing his tasks, he would return to the counter. One morning, he reached into his pocket, pulled out the business card that Shiraishi had handed him, and tossed it into the trash without hesitation.

Sasaki happened to witness this and couldn’t help but call out. “Oh?”

Caught in the act, Nishizaki turned around and offered an awkward shrug. “You think it’s okay to toss it?”

“It’s your card—you can do what you want with it. I just thought it was bold. Wasn’t she your type?”

“I don’t really do well with women who come on strong,” Nishizaki replied casually.

“Oh, here it is, the classic ‘I’m too popular’ line,” Sasaki teased.

Hashizume, who had been transferring cakes into the display case, stomped his foot in mock exasperation. “You’ve probably gotten too picky. That journalist wasn’t bad-looking at all.”

“She was cute,” Nishizaki admitted with a shrug. “But girls like her, with stable jobs, they might like me at first, but eventually, they’d get tired of a guy with no degree and a low income. They’d dump me.”

His tone was calm, but there was a chill to his words.

“Not that I’m complaining about the pay,” he quickly added. “I’m just grateful to have a full-time job. A college dropout like me, with no real skills, can’t exactly be picky.”

Hashizume, unsure how to respond, fell silent. Sensing the mood, Nishizaki tried to lighten the atmosphere with a grin. “Don’t worry about me. I’m well aware of my own league.”

At a minute to eleven, Nishizaki announced, “I’ll go put the sign out front,” and stepped outside.

Sasaki watched him as he worked. He’s got his shadows, Sasaki thought, noting the faint melancholy that occasionally surfaced in Nishizaki’s demeanor. But he knew better than to pry. Some things were outside a boss’s purview.

When Nishizaki returned, he laughed as he reported, “It’s crazy hot out there today. The cicadas are loud enough to burst your eardrums. Anyone who sits on the terrace today would be a true warrior.”

Whatever shadows had been there earlier were gone, replaced by his usual easy smile.

The café opened at eleven, and as expected on a weekday, no customers arrived immediately. By 11:30, however, the lunch crowd began trickling in. The rush peaked around 12:30, and by 2:00, the café had quieted down, with about half the seats empty.

Sasaki was seated in the corner of the counter with his laptop open, making arrangements for his upcoming coffee-buying trip—flights and accommodations. Across the counter, Nishizaki let out a small yawn, and with no orders coming in, Hashizume emerged from the kitchen, where the heat from the refrigerator and stovetops lingered despite the air conditioning. He sat on a stool behind the counter and began polishing glasses.

The café was modest, with six table seats, five counter seats, and two on the terrace. Normally, another part-time worker would be scheduled, but today the three of them—Sasaki, Nishizaki, and Hashizume—handled the midday shift.

To shake off his drowsiness, Nishizaki picked up a pitcher and went to refill the water glasses at the empty tables, clearing dishes and cups as he went. After two groups of customers left in succession, only three groups remained in the café. Once Nishizaki finished washing the dishes, he returned to his usual spot at the corner of the counter, where another yawn escaped him.

“I’m thinking of pretending to be married,” he murmured.

It had been two years since Nishizaki started working at the café. He had initially lived in an old apartment that was slated for demolition but had since moved to a small unit above a hardware store near the café, paying just 5,000 yen a month. The elderly woman who ran the store lived downstairs and let Nishizaki use the upstairs space freely. Sasaki had been surprised that such a boarding arrangement still existed in this day and age, though Hashizume had quipped, “It’s basically a modern-day share house—just with a grandma as a roommate.”

“Having you single is probably better for business, though,” Hashizume said in a hushed tone, ensuring the customers couldn’t hear.

“Whether I’m married or not probably doesn’t make much difference to business. People come here for the coffee, not me,” Nishizaki replied.

Listening to their conversation while keeping an eye on his laptop, Sasaki couldn’t help but smile. It pleased him that Nishizaki thought so highly of the café’s coffee.

"Between us, there's this... unsettling woman," Nishizaki said, his tone low and hesitant. "She's a customer, so I can't be rude, but last time, she waited for me to finish my shift and then just handed me this extravagant gift as soon as I stepped out."

"Like a fan bringing a gift to a celebrity? Just take it and be grateful," Hashizume said, tilting his head as if to ask, What's the big deal?

"A high-end wallet worth over 100,000 yen, as a gift to a café employee she's exchanged maybe two or three sentences with? That's terrifying. Of course, she's expecting something in return," Nishizaki countered, his voice edged with unease.

The price left Hashizume momentarily speechless. "A hundred thousand...?"

Before they could continue the conversation, the chime above the door announced a new customer. Nishizaki quickly shifted gears. "Welcome!" he called out, approaching the young man who had just entered.

The customer appeared to be in his mid-twenties, dressed in a casual outfit of shorts, sandals, and a short-sleeved shirt. But his appearance was striking—he sported ring piercings on both his nose and lips, connected by a delicate chain. His sharp gaze and unconventional look stood out starkly among the café's usual clientele. Still, judging someone solely by their appearance wasn’t fair.

"Are you dining alone?" Nishizaki asked politely.

The man tilted his head slightly, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. "Are you Nishizaki?"

The question sent a shiver down Sasaki's spine. This wasn’t something an average employee could handle. Should I call the police?

"Yeah, that's me. Is there something—"

Before Nishizaki could finish, the man lunged, and Nishizaki's body was flung backward. He collided with one of the stools at the counter before crashing to the floor, the impact making Sasaki's laptop tremble slightly.

The man advanced on the fallen Nishizaki, delivering a brutal kick to his abdomen. The dull, sickening sound of the blow jolted Sasaki out of his stupor. What is happening? I have to stop this!

"Hey, what are you doing? Stop it!" Sasaki shouted, rushing forward and grabbing the man’s arm.

"Don’t touch me!" the man roared, violently shaking Sasaki off. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out a knife and brandishing it at Sasaki.

"Stay out of this!" he barked, his voice dripping with menace.

It was the first time Sasaki had ever had a blade pointed at him. His body froze, his mind went blank, and fear anchored him in place. Meanwhile, the man delivered another kick to Nishizaki, who was curled up defensively on the floor, before stepping on his back.

"You touched my girl. I’ll kill you!" the man snarled.

Between shaking breaths, Nishizaki stammered, "I didn’t... touch anyone... I swear."

"Don’t play dumb with me! Ririka told me everything—you assaulted her!"

"Um... Are you talking about Miss Sakaue? She's just a... a regular customer," Nishizaki began hesitantly.

Sasaki stood frozen, his instincts screaming that this was no longer a situation he could handle. Police... I need to call the police...

“I called the police!”

It was Hashizume’s booming voice from the kitchen.

The man clicked his tongue in frustration, gave Nishizaki one final kick, and fled the café. Silence fell over the room, the tension still hanging in the air.

“Are... are you okay?” Sasaki asked hesitantly, his voice trembling as he approached Nishizaki, who let out a faint groan.

“Probably. Hurts like hell, but I don’t think anything’s broken,” Nishizaki rasped, his voice strained.

Hashizume emerged from the kitchen, but the sudden chaos had caused customers to gather near the register, seeking to leave quickly. Hashizume was stuck dealing with them.

Groaning in pain, Nishizaki slowly lifted his upper body and crawled behind the counter, where he could hide from the remaining customers’ view. He was bleeding from the corner of his mouth, and when he coughed, blood spattered from his nose, staining his pristine white shirt a deep red.

The metallic smell of blood made Sasaki’s head spin. He grabbed a handful of kitchen paper towels with shaking hands and passed them to Nishizaki, who held them to his face.

“Sorry for dirtying the uniform,” Nishizaki mumbled through the paper.

“That doesn’t matter right now. What matters is whether you’re okay. Should we go to the hospital?”

“I think I just need to lie down for a bit,” Nishizaki replied, his voice muffled as he coughed into the paper again. “Can I rest in the back room until the nosebleed stops?”

“Of course, but seriously, you might need a doctor—”

“I’ll clean up later, I swear,” Nishizaki murmured, swaying as he stood.

“Hey, Nishizaki, are you alright?” Hashizume returned to the counter as the customers dispersed.

“I’ve closed the shop,” Hashizume said. “Put up the ‘Closed’ sign, just until Nishizaki settles down. Thought it was for the best.”

“Good call,” Sasaki said distractedly.

“I’m sorry for the trouble,” Nishizaki said, his voice faint as he pressed the bloodied paper towels to his mouth. “But I swear, I’ve never laid a hand on any customer.”

“I believe you. You don’t need to explain,” Sasaki reassured him.

“I’ve never met with any customers outside the shop. I don’t know what that guy thought happened, but...” Nishizaki’s words trailed off as his body swayed.

“Whoa, hey—” Hashizume lunged forward, catching Nishizaki as he collapsed. Unable to fully support his weight, they both slid to the floor in a heap.

Sasaki scrambled for his phone, but in his panic, he couldn’t immediately remember the emergency number.

Nishizaki slumped against Hashizume, his arms limp at his sides. Blood dripped steadily from his nose, pooling on the floor beneath him.

“Nishizaki! Nishizaki!”

Sasaki shook him gently, but Nishizaki didn’t open his eyes. The word death crossed Sasaki’s mind, and his fingertips went cold.

“Boss, stop shaking him! Just call an ambulance—this is seriously bad!” Hashizume’s voice trembled as he crouched nearby.

＊ ＊ ＊

The last customer had left. It was five minutes before the 10 PM closing time. With everything that had happened today, Sasaki was exhausted and eager to rest. He stepped outside, flipped the iron "OPEN" sign hanging from its post to display "CLOSED," and took a deep breath.

At some point, rain had started to fall. The asphalt glistened faintly under the streetlights, its surface damp but not drenched. Sasaki had noticed the thickening clouds as the evening wore on, and the humidity felt heavier compared to the day before. This weather didn’t surprise him.

He suddenly felt the weight of a gaze. Diagonally across from him, a man in a navy suit holding a transparent umbrella was staring intently.

The man walked slowly toward Sasaki, his serious demeanor and badge gleaming faintly on his chest. He retrieved a business card from his pocket and extended it.

“I’m Nishizaki’s high school classmate.”

The card read "Seishu Law Office, Attorney Masayuki Nagano." The man appeared to be around Nishizaki’s age, with a reserved, formal demeanor that matched Sasaki’s mental image of a lawyer perfectly.

“I had plans to meet Nishizaki today, but my schedule changed. I sent him a message to rearrange, but he didn’t reply. I went to his home, but he wasn’t there, so I thought I’d check his workplace.”

Sasaki recalled the faint sound of a phone ringing repeatedly from Nishizaki’s locker in the staff room. This lawyer seemed trustworthy enough to share information with.

“Nishizaki was at work today. Around 3 PM, a man came in and assaulted him. He was injured and taken to the hospital.”

Nagano’s eyes widened in shock. His umbrella slipped slightly, almost falling to the ground.

“He lost consciousness, which scared us, but it seems it was a brief episode. The doctors said his life isn’t in danger. He hit his head, so he’s staying overnight for observation.”

“Which hospital is he at?” Nagano asked, his voice taut with concern.

Sasaki hesitated. The phrase “protection of personal information” flashed in his mind. Regardless of the man’s profession, he couldn’t divulge private details so freely.

“Well… how exactly do you know Nishizaki?” Sasaki asked, trying to gauge the man’s intentions.

“I’m sorry to trouble you so late, but I’m concerned about him. That’s all,” Nagano replied earnestly.

“Visiting hours end at 9 PM, and after that, only family members are allowed to see patients. It might be better to wait until tomorrow,” Sasaki suggested, hoping to save the man a wasted trip.

Nagano nodded slightly but looked displeased.

“Why was Nishizaki attacked? Do you know the assailant?” he pressed.

“No, the attacker wasn’t familiar to anyone here. It seems he was the boyfriend of a female customer. He thought Nishizaki was involved with her, which isn’t true. Nishizaki told me he’s never even met her outside the café.”

Nagano pressed his fingers against his chin, deep in thought. “So, this is a case of assault.”

The calm, measured way Nagano declared it sent a subtle pressure through the air, making Sasaki feel uncomfortably hot and constricted.

“Do you know the man’s name or address?” Nagano asked sharply.

“Uh, no… I’ve never seen him before,” Sasaki admitted.

“You don’t know? Nishizaki sustained injuries severe enough to be hospitalized,” Nagano stated, his voice heavy with controlled anger.

Sasaki could only apologize, his voice subdued. The quiet intensity of the lawyer's presence made him feel helpless, despite his efforts to manage the situation.

The lawyer was angry. It was only natural—his friend had been hurt. But still, Sasaki thought, how could anyone expect him to ask the name and address of a man wielding a knife? All he could do now was bow his head and apologize. “I’m sorry.”

“You were at the scene, weren’t you?” the lawyer asked. “Did you take any photos or videos of the assailant with your smartphone?”

Sasaki admired the idea; he hadn’t even thought of it. But in the chaos of the moment, he’d been frozen, unable to do anything but watch as Nishizaki was attacked.

“Um, excuse me…”

A voice interrupted, drawing Sasaki’s attention to a young woman stepping out of the light rain. She wore a white jacket over a long skirt, her brown-dyed hair framing a striking face. Though undeniably beautiful, her heavy makeup hinted at a profession often associated with the night.

The woman’s large, dark eyes, framed by thick lashes, were fixed on Sasaki. They quivered slightly, betraying her unease.

“You work here, don’t you? I’ve seen you before.”

Sasaki nodded hesitantly. “Ah, yes.”

“Is Nishizaki here?” she asked.

Sasaki recalled Nishizaki mentioning a woman who would wait outside the café for him after his shifts, almost like a celebrity stalker.

“He’s not here right now,” he replied.

The woman didn’t leave as he’d expected. Instead, she nervously clasped and unclasped her fingers in front of her chest.

“Is Nishizaki… okay? I heard… my boyfriend said he hit him or something, and I—” Her voice cracked.

The lawyer stepped in smoothly. “I understand this is upsetting, but I need you to answer my questions truthfully. It will protect you as much as it helps resolve this situation.”

The woman wiped her red-rimmed eyes, sniffling. “What should I do?”

“Let’s start with the details,” the lawyer suggested. “Is there a nearby place we can sit and talk?”

Without thinking, Sasaki offered, “If you don’t mind, you can use our café.” He’d already closed for the night, but it seemed the right thing to do.

Inside, Sasaki took his place behind the counter while the lawyer and the woman settled into a booth. He strained to listen in on their conversation. Even Hashizume, who was usually finishing up in the kitchen at this hour, found excuses to drift in and out of the café, clearly curious.

The lawyer wasted no time. He extracted the name, address, and other details about the attacker with an efficiency that left Sasaki awestruck. The man was a low-level member of a small yakuza group. While the lawyer’s expression remained unperturbed, Sasaki couldn’t help but shudder at the memory of the knife that had been pointed at him.

As the conversation continued, it became clear that Nishizaki had been telling the truth. He had no relationship with the woman. She explained that Nishizaki was kind and friendly at the café but kept his distance outside. Her boyfriend had discovered secretly taken photos of Nishizaki on her phone, and the misunderstanding had escalated into violence.

The lawyer’s tone grew sharper as he pursued the matter. Sasaki watched from a cautious distance, his respect for the lawyer growing, even as he remained uneasy. The woman sobbed. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. He scares me so much…”

“You’re not at fault for his violence,” the lawyer reassured her, though his words were clipped. “But you need to cooperate. If you lie or withhold information to protect him, you could be seen as complicit in his crimes.”

Under the lawyer’s relentless questioning, the woman confessed everything, though her explanations were mired in guilt and confusion. She admitted to claiming Nishizaki had harassed her simply to deflect her boyfriend’s anger. That lie had spiraled out of control, culminating in the attack.

“Why did you come here today?” the lawyer asked, his voice even.

“I just… I wanted to see if Nishizaki was okay,” she mumbled, wringing her hands.

The lawyer nodded briskly. “I see. For now, you’ve done the right thing by being honest. But you’ll need to remain cooperative as we address this incident.”

Sasaki watched in silence as the lawyer concluded the conversation with precision and authority. He couldn’t help but admire how quickly this man could dismantle chaos and rebuild order.

After the lawyer sent the young woman on her way, he turned to Sasaki and Hashizume, his demeanor calm but authoritative. "Would it be all right if I asked you two a few questions as well?" By this point, a sense of security had settled over them. Sasaki felt a growing confidence in the man, as if everything would be fine if left in his hands. He found himself thinking, Ask whatever you need.

They recounted the events in detail once more. The lawyer interrupted occasionally with clarifying questions, meticulously piecing together the timeline from the moment Nishizaki was attacked to when he was admitted to the hospital. When that was done, the lawyer inquired about the extent of the café’s damages and asked Sasaki to calculate the financial losses incurred by closing the café until 6 p.m. due to the incident. Sasaki initially brushed it off—"It’s only about three hours; it’s not a big deal"—but the lawyer insisted. “I want an accurate account of the damages,” he said, leaving Sasaki unable to refuse.

By the time the conversation wound down, it was past midnight. Hashizume had left about half an hour earlier, catching the last train. Now, it was just Sasaki and the lawyer.

“I’ll file a formal complaint with the police,” the lawyer explained, “but this will likely be resolved through settlement negotiations. The perpetrator is a low-level yakuza member, but pursuing legal action against him won’t bring any danger to you. The police are always eager to address these kinds of low-level organizational disruptions. If there’s any harassment or damage to the property in the future, please notify me immediately, and I’ll handle it.”

Reflecting on the whirlwind of events—Nishizaki being attacked, the ambulance ride, the hospital, and the sudden appearance of the lawyer—Sasaki couldn’t help but feel relieved. Having a professional to provide advice and solutions was a welcome reprieve.

“Thank you for everything. Um, how much do I owe you for the consultation?” Sasaki asked, fully prepared to pay for the peace of mind the lawyer had brought.

The lawyer shook his head. “There’s no need.”

Sasaki raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? You’ve taken time out of your work to help us.”

The lawyer clarified, “Technically, there’s no fee at this point. If I assist you in filing a claim for the café’s damages, we can discuss compensation then. As for Nishizaki’s situation, I’ll handle that directly with him.”

Sasaki was struck by the lawyer’s professionalism. Despite being a friend of Nishizaki, he drew a firm line between their personal and professional relationship. This quality of firm but fair objectivity contrasted sharply with Nishizaki’s softer, more easygoing nature. The two seemed like complete opposites—oil and water—and yet they had maintained a friendship. People are hard to figure out, Sasaki thought.

“You and Nishizaki were classmates in high school, weren’t you? It’s impressive that you’ve stayed in touch after all this time.”

The lawyer fell silent, and Sasaki noticed a hesitation in his response. It was the kind of question that could have been answered with a simple “yes,” but the lawyer seemed to wrestle with his words.

Sasaki sensed the shift in the atmosphere and offered, “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

The lawyer nodded, his earlier intensity softening for a moment.

As Sasaki served the lawyer an iced coffee, he watched curiously as the man poured in every last drop of syrup and cream provided on the tray. The dark coffee turned pale in an instant. Intrigued, Sasaki asked, “Not a fan of coffee? Would you prefer something else?”

The lawyer’s usual composure wavered slightly, his expression betraying a hint of embarrassment. “I like the aroma,” he admitted, “but the bitterness… not so much. It’s better sweetened.”

The sight of the normally stoic lawyer taming his coffee’s bitterness with copious amounts of sweetener was unexpectedly endearing, almost childlike. Sasaki couldn’t help but think of Nishizaki, who had once confessed, “I’m not great with bitter flavors.” It struck him as a strange but amusing coincidence.

Sipping his coffee in small gulps, the lawyer asked, almost like a concerned parent, “How is Nishizaki doing at work?”

Sasaki smiled. “Nishizaki is very diligent. He’s not much of a morning person and is occasionally late, but if you call him, he’ll show up right away.”

The lawyer’s lips curled into a faint smile, his eyes softening. “I see.”

“He’s fantastic with people, too,” Sasaki continued. “He knows how to read customers—he’s casual and friendly with younger ones, but with older customers, he’s calm and respectful. Honestly, he’s a natural at customer service. And, well, being as good-looking as he is, we get quite a few female customers who come in just to see him.”

The lawyer nodded slightly, but his response was measured and subdued. “I see,” he said again, his tone polite but noncommittal.

Sasaki noticed that the lawyer rarely initiated conversation, yet he listened attentively and responded with care when necessary. Their exchange ebbed into silence, punctuated only by Sasaki’s occasional attempts to keep the conversation going with small talk.

When it was time for the lawyer to leave, he insisted on paying for the iced coffee despite Sasaki’s protests. He also purchased three bags of coffee beans, explaining that they were for a friend, even though he had earlier admitted to not being a big fan of coffee.

Finally alone, Sasaki turned off the café lights, a wave of exhaustion washing over him. Tomorrow was a scheduled day off, and he couldn’t have been more grateful for the timing.

As he recorded the lawyer’s purchase in the ledger, Sasaki reflected on the gesture. The lawyer likely didn’t need the beans, Sasaki thought. It was probably his way of being considerate.

With a tired sigh, Sasaki closed the ledger and prepared to call it a day.

＊ ＊ ＊

The day after Nishizaki was assaulted, he was discharged from the hospital. On the first day the café reopened after its scheduled day off, he showed up for work. Sasaki suggested he take another day off if he needed to, but Nishizaki waved the idea off with a smile. “I’m fine,” he said.

Over the phone earlier, his tone had been casual. “My body’s fine, but my face… yeah, it’s a mess,” he had admitted. “The colors keep changing every day,” he added, sounding almost amused.

The bruise on the corner of his mouth had darkened to a deep blue. It looked painful and drew attention immediately. Sasaki had him try wearing a mask to cover it, but that only made him look more conspicuous. With no better solution, Nishizaki went out on the floor as he was. Predictably, regular customers noticed and exclaimed in alarm. “What happened to your face?” they would ask. Each time, Nishizaki repeated the same clumsy excuse: “I tripped on the stairs at home…”

By early afternoon, the lunch rush had ended, and heavy rain had begun to fall. Perhaps because of the weather, the café was down to just one customer. It had been a while since the place was so quiet. Sasaki refilled the lone customer’s coffee, and with little else to do, Nishizaki disappeared into the storage room. A moment later, he returned with a stack of shop cards, which he replenished in the holder by the register.

“Hey, Nishizaki,” Sasaki called from his spot at the counter.

“Yeah?” Nishizaki replied, walking over.

“How’s that situation going?” Sasaki asked, pointing to the bruise.

Nishizaki tilted his head, then followed Sasaki’s gaze. Letting out a wry laugh, he said, “Oh, that? It’s… a ‘case,’” his tone dry but amused.

“Your lawyer friend is handling it?” Sasaki asked.

“Yeah,” Nishizaki replied, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “He’s taking care of everything.”

“Is it headed toward a settlement?” Sasaki asked.

“Looks like it. Nagano—he’s the lawyer—said that since my injuries weren’t severe, we’ll probably settle. I thought hospital fees would be enough, but he mentioned needing to account for his legal fees too. On top of that, he’s suggesting we ask for more to serve as a deterrent for the future.”

Sasaki raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that risky? Won’t it provoke the other party?”

“That’s what I thought,” Nishizaki admitted. “But Nagano said a financial penalty sends a stronger message. He’s the expert, so I’ve left it in his hands.”

He added, “Nagano also insisted on including a clause that ensures this guy doesn’t come near the café again. So, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about him showing up here anymore.”

It seemed Nagano was diligently managing the matter, just as Sasaki had expected. Nishizaki’s casual demeanor, however, hinted at the trust he had in his friend’s expertise.

“That lawyer—he’s your high school friend, right? You’ve known each other a long time,” Sasaki said casually.

Nishizaki glanced away, his gaze dropping slightly. “Yeah, we were classmates, but there was a long stretch after graduation when we didn’t stay in touch.”

“The day you were assaulted, I talked to him here. He seemed really serious.”

“Well, yeah, that’s just how he is. He’s so serious that being around him can feel suffocating sometimes,” Nishizaki replied with a laugh, brushing off the weight of his words.

Sasaki nodded thoughtfully. “He’s not exactly intimidating, but he has a certain intensity about him. I guess that kind of presence is an advantage in court?”

Nishizaki pressed his fingers to his temple, pondering the comment. “Maybe. But honestly, he hasn’t changed much since high school. He was always standoffish, buried in his books, and kind of hard to approach. Gave off this ‘lone wolf’ vibe.”

Hearing this, Sasaki thought, Ah, they really are friends after all.

“You seem like the kind of guy who’d have a lot of friends, though,” Sasaki ventured.

Nishizaki’s expression darkened, his cheerful demeanor momentarily clouded. He scratched the back of his head. “Not really. Sure, I skipped school a lot to hang out, but people only stuck around when I had money. Honestly, I was a pretty terrible kid back then.”

The sound of rain grew heavier outside, drumming against the windows and deterring any new customers. Nishizaki turned, flashing a polite smile as he approached the entrance. “Welcome!” he greeted the new arrival cheerfully.

The newcomer was Inui, a regular in her late 30s. Slender and stylish, she favored dark tones—black and gray were staples of her wardrobe. She slipped into her usual seat by the window, glancing around the café. Besides herself, there was only one other customer.

“This rain is really something,” Inui said with a sigh as Nishizaki brought her a glass of water.

Sasaki overheard her order from the counter. “An iced café latte—wait, no, make it hot,” she decided.

Sasaki, already grinding beans for her drink, paused when he heard Inui ask, “Hey, Nishizaki, what happened to your face?”

It was a question Nishizaki had been deflecting with the same excuse for days. “Oh, I tripped on the stairs,” he replied, falling back on his usual explanation.

“Really? You weren’t punched or something?” she pressed.

This was the first time someone had challenged his story so directly. Nishizaki hesitated for a fraction of a second before doubling down. “No, seriously, I just fell. That’s all.”

Sensing his discomfort, Inui let the matter drop with a noncommittal “Hmm,” though her tone suggested skepticism.

“It’s pretty noticeable, though,” she remarked, gesturing toward the bruise.

“Yeah, I know. I even tried wearing a mask, but it just made me look suspicious,” Nishizaki said with a laugh.

Inui chuckled. “Then why not cover it with makeup?”

At the counter, Sasaki raised his head, startled by the suggestion.

“It’s a service job, and with something that noticeable, customers are bound to ask about it. These days, even guys wear makeup. It wouldn’t take more than a few minutes to cover just that area. Even just a bit of powder would help.”

Inui sipped her water before offering, “If you’re up for it, I could do it right now. I’ve got my tools with me.”

“Uh, I mean...” Nishizaki hesitated, visibly unsure.

“I work in hair and makeup, you know,” Inui continued. “I’ve got some time before my next job, so I thought I’d relax here. But since I’ve got my kit with me…”

From her bag, she pulled out a sleek black case.

“That’s kind of you, but I’m in the middle of work…” Nishizaki trailed off.

Sasaki chimed in from the counter, his voice firm yet encouraging. “Let her help, Nishizaki. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

“I’ll give you a break. While you’re away, I’ll cover the floor if any customers come in,” Sasaki said.

Still hesitant, Nishizaki glanced toward Inui, who smiled and said, “See? The manager’s okay with it.” She gestured for him to sit across from her. With a reluctant sigh, Nishizaki complied.

Inui opened her makeup kit and began working on Nishizaki’s face. The sight of him sitting obediently, like a tamed cat, amused Sasaki.

“I’ll prep your skin with lotion and moisturizer first, then use a concealer and foundation. A light dusting of powder should be enough to cover everything,” Inui explained, her tone professional as she dabbed and smoothed product onto Nishizaki’s face.

Sasaki had paused brewing coffee, choosing to time it so the fresh cup would be ready when Inui finished. He watched the scene unfold, bemused by how docile Nishizaki was under Inui’s meticulous hands.

The café bell jingled as a customer entered, startling Nishizaki, who instinctively tried to rise. Inui pressed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Stay still,” she said, gently but firmly.

A suited salaryman stood at the door, shaking off rain from his umbrella. Sasaki stepped out from behind the counter to greet him. “Welcome!” he said politely, only to recognize the man’s face moments later. “Oh, it’s you—the lawyer.”

The man gave a sheepish smile. “Nagano,” he corrected, introducing himself by name. It seemed he wasn’t fond of being called “lawyer.”

“I know you’re working, but is Nishizaki here? I just need to confirm something with him. It won’t take long,” Nagano explained.

Before Sasaki could answer, Inui’s voice rang out: “Hey, I said don’t move!” She lightly tapped Nishizaki’s shoulder as he flinched.

“Nishizaki is occupied right now. Could you wait about ten minutes?” Sasaki asked.

“That’s fine,” Nagano replied, taking a seat in the corner at Sasaki’s suggestion. On his way there, his eyes widened at the sight of Nishizaki being made up by Inui. Once seated, he leaned toward Sasaki and asked in disbelief, “What is Nishizaki doing?”

“He’s learning how to cover up the bruises on his face with makeup,” Sasaki replied calmly.

“Makeup? For a man?” Nagano’s expression was a mix of confusion and skepticism.

“The bruises are pretty prominent. Every customer’s been asking about them today. If makeup can make it less noticeable, it’s worth a shot.”

Nagano, sitting quietly, had been told he didn’t have to order anything, but he requested a cocoa anyway. Sasaki prepared it first and addressed Nishizaki and Inui, “I’ll bring your café latte after this.” Then he brought the cocoa to Nagano, who was holding some documents and observing Nishizaki and Inui intently.

“Are the two of them close?” Nagano asked, without looking at Sasaki.

“Not particularly,” Sasaki replied. “She’s a regular customer. Apparently, she’s a professional hair and makeup artist.”

“I see,” Nagano replied curtly, shifting his gaze elsewhere. His detached demeanor caught Sasaki’s attention, but he didn’t dwell on it.

“Manager, look at this!” Inui called out. Sasaki approached their table and was taken aback by Nishizaki’s face. The bruise, once glaringly obvious, was now completely concealed.

“That’s amazing,” Sasaki said, genuinely impressed.

“Right?” Inui beamed, her eyes narrowing with satisfaction. Nishizaki, holding up a small hand mirror Inui had lent him, muttered in awe, “This is incredible.”

“You know,” Inui said, “I always thought so, but you really are good-looking, Nishizaki.”

Handing the mirror back, Nishizaki laughed awkwardly. “I’m too old for that now.”

“Come on, you must have been insanely popular back in school,” Inui teased.

“Well... I guess... maybe a little,” Nishizaki admitted, his voice trailing off.

Sasaki smiled faintly at their banter; they were clearly enjoying each other’s company. With that, he returned to the counter—it was time to brew her café latte.

“As time passes, the bruises will fade, but for now, makeup is your best option,” Inui said, her tone matter-of-fact. “With a concealer that matches your skin tone and a little powder, you’re good to go. I’ve got some old products I was planning to toss—if you don’t mind, you can have them.”

Nishizaki accepted the makeup supplies Inui offered as she tidied the table. Sasaki brought over her café latte, and Nishizaki returned to the counter. “I’ll cover Inui’s café latte,” he said. Then, glancing at Nagano, he added, “Mind if I take a short break?”

“The café’s slow anyway,” Sasaki said with a smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Still, I’d feel bad if it ran long.”

“Then I’ll just dock it from your paycheck,” Sasaki teased.

To his surprise, Nishizaki nodded. “Sure, that’s fine. I’ll be back if it gets busy.” He headed toward Nagano’s table.

Less than ten minutes later, Inui announced she had to leave early due to a last-minute change in her schedule. She didn’t forget to thank Nishizaki with a cheerful, “Thanks for the café latte!” before dashing out.

By the time another lingering customer finished their two-hour stay over two cups of coffee, the café was empty except for the staff. With rain still pouring outside, it seemed the pace would remain quiet for a while.

Sasaki decided it was the perfect time to brew some of the freshly roasted beans. The light roast produced a vibrant flavor with less bitterness, just the kind Nishizaki enjoyed. After preparing three cups, he placed two on a tray and headed toward Nagano and Nishizaki.

From the back of the café, Sasaki could hear Nagano’s firm voice. “You should refrain from reckless behavior.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Nishizaki muttered defensively. “It’s not like I’ve done anything.”

“Even if you haven’t crossed any lines, getting too familiar with female customers could lead to trouble later,” Nagano warned.

“I know, I know,” Nishizaki grumbled. “But the customer who did my makeup earlier? Inui-san? She’s married, you know.”

“That doesn’t matter. This situation started because a customer’s boyfriend thought there was something between you two. It’s best to maintain professional boundaries.”

Nagano’s tone was sharp, but Sasaki thought he might be overdoing it. Still, he approached with the tray. “Here you go,” he said, placing the coffees on the table.

Nagano frowned slightly. “I didn’t order this.”

“It’s a sample from our new beans,” Sasaki explained. “If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate your feedback.”

Realizing the coffee was already brewed and there were no other customers, Nagano nodded curtly. “Fine.”

Nishizaki, understanding Sasaki’s intent, bowed slightly. “Thanks, we’ll give it a try.”

Standing up, Nishizaki walked over to a cupboard and retrieved a bag of marshmallows. “Mind if I take these? I’ll pay for them later,” he called out.

“Go ahead,” Sasaki said. “Are you putting them in your coffee?”

“Yeah, this guy doesn’t like bitter stuff,” Nishizaki replied with a grin, motioning toward Nagano.

A blush crept up Nagano’s face. “That’s unnecessary,” he said stiffly.

“C’mon, you hate bitter flavors,” Nishizaki teased.

“I can handle it,” Nagano retorted, taking a sip of the straight coffee—only to choke slightly.

“See? I knew it!” Nishizaki laughed, dropping a few marshmallows into Nagano’s cup. Nagano glared at the melting marshmallows with a mixture of irritation and resignation, muttering under his breath as the sweetness spread through his coffee.

“You don’t listen to what people tell you,” Nagano said bluntly.

“No point in trying to act tough about this kind of thing,” Nishizaki muttered, his tone defensive.

“And you should tone it down with your interactions with women,” Nagano added, his voice carrying an edge.

Nishizaki pouted slightly, as if sulking. Sasaki, sensing the tension, decided it was time for him to step in.

“Nishizaki isn’t careless when it comes to women,” Sasaki said calmly.

Nagano turned his gaze toward him.

“Sure, Nishizaki is attractive and popular with customers, but he knows how to handle that responsibly. He’s always professional, and while our café doesn’t forbid relationships between staff and customers as long as it doesn’t interfere with work, Nishizaki hasn’t dated anyone since he started here. He’s remarkably disciplined.”

Nagano’s expression was less than pleased, but he didn’t argue back. Perhaps he couldn’t; after all, he’d likely never seen Nishizaki at work. Sasaki pressed on.

“The customer who helped him with makeup earlier? From what I saw, she was just being kind. She used to visit often with her husband before they had kids. And while our pay isn’t particularly high, Nishizaki always works hard.”

“I see,” Nagano replied curtly, his tone clipped. “Thank you for clarifying. That will be all.”

His words came with a sharp finality. Sensing that his presence was now unwelcome, Sasaki excused himself to the counter. A few minutes later, Nishizaki returned to the counter after finishing his conversation with Nagano.

“Done talking?” Sasaki asked, keeping his voice low.

“Yeah,” Nishizaki replied, his voice tinged with weariness. “He said he’s going to finish up some paperwork here.”

The tension still seemed palpable around Nagano’s table, like an invisible barrier making the area feel unapproachable. Sasaki busied himself with other tasks as two young women entered the café. Regulars in their twenties, they were yoga instructors from a nearby studio who had once left flyers at the café.

“Hey, Nishizaki, do you have this cake today?” one of them asked.

“Yep. Want some?” Nishizaki replied casually.

“Definitely!”

With his younger regulars, Nishizaki adopted a friendly, relaxed tone that felt more like chatting with friends. Another customer arrived—a man who appeared to be in his sixties, another regular. This customer didn’t speak much, so Nishizaki greeted him with, “The usual?” before confirming his order as “Blue Mountain” and relaying it to Sasaki.

Sasaki ground beans for the coffee and prepared the orders, which Nishizaki carried out to the tables. Glancing back toward the tense corner of the café, Sasaki noticed Nagano watching Nishizaki closely.

Sasaki observed Nagano’s expression, realizing something odd—his gaze wasn’t on Nishizaki’s work but on the women he interacted with. It wasn’t a neutral look; Nagano’s eyes were cold, as if silently judging the female customers. Sasaki understood Nagano’s wariness after the recent trouble involving a jealous boyfriend, but most of the café’s patrons were just ordinary customers.

When there was a brief lull, Nagano called Nishizaki over. Nishizaki returned to the counter and relayed, “A café latte,” before adding, “Make sure to load it up with milk and sugar.”

“The flavor will change, you know,” Sasaki remarked.

“That guy won’t be able to drink it otherwise,” Nishizaki said, gesturing at the coffee. “I don’t know if it’s because his mom was a terrible cook or what, but he has a pretty crude sense of taste. Everything has to be either super sweet or super spicy.”

“That’s… quite something.”

“But me?” Nishizaki added with a smug grin. “I was raised in a posh family, so my palate is refined.”

Sasaki couldn’t help but laugh. When he looked up, he found Nagano’s eyes on him. Nagano’s expression was unreadable—neither hostile nor kind. He wasn’t even looking at Nishizaki but directly at Sasaki.

Why is he watching me? Sasaki wondered. There was no malice, but it wasn’t exactly friendly either. What kind of gaze was this?

As Sasaki prepared the café latte, he stole glances at Nagano. By then, Nagano’s focus had shifted back to his own hands. Yet, whenever Nishizaki spoke, Nagano’s attention would lift, and his gaze would follow until the conversation ended.

Nagano stayed for about an hour before leaving. Once he was gone, the lingering tension in the air dissipated, leaving the café feeling noticeably lighter. As the evening wore on, the rain cleared, and customers gradually

＊ ＊ ＊

At 9:30 PM, the café stopped taking orders, and the last customer left at 10:00. After flipping the sign to "CLOSED," Nishizaki began rearranging chairs and cleaning the floor. By 10:30, his shift was officially over, but instead of changing and heading out as he usually did, Nishizaki collapsed onto a sofa with a heavy sigh.

“Sorry, I’ll head out soon.”

“Take your time,” Sasaki replied. “I’ll be blending beans for a while, so I’ll be here until close to midnight.”

“What ratio are you trying this time?” Nishizaki asked, coming closer.

Sasaki enjoyed experimenting with blends despite purists often preferring single-origin coffee. The joy came from discovering new flavor combinations and complexities that blending different beans could create. Nishizaki, who once said he couldn’t tell coffee flavors apart, now shared a genuine interest and offered thoughtful feedback.

Sasaki began measuring out roasted beans. “How’s life treating you, Nishizaki?” he asked casually.

“Hm?” Nishizaki looked up, puzzled.

“I mean, our pay isn’t exactly stellar. Are you managing okay?”

“Totally fine,” Nishizaki replied with an easy smile.

“I’m glad to have you here, but if there’s anything you want to pursue, don’t hesitate to say so. You’re still young.”

Resting his cheek on the counter, Nishizaki murmured, “I don’t really have anything I want to do. I think this job is fun.”

“Really? Nothing at all?” Sasaki pressed.

After a moment of silence, Nishizaki said quietly, “Maybe I’d like to run a café like this one someday.”

“That’s a good dream,” Sasaki said with a grin.

“Yeah. I got into this job because of the cool uniforms, but coffee is actually pretty fascinating,” Nishizaki admitted, his eyes lighting up.

“You’ve fallen for it, huh?”

“Maybe,” Nishizaki said, smiling shyly. “But, well… even if I wanted to open a place, I don’t have the money.”

“Then stick around here for your training until you save up,” Sasaki teased.

“Sounds like a plan,” Nishizaki replied. “Although, to be honest, I’ve got some debts to pay off first. Stuff from when things got rough before. I should be able to clear it by the end of the year, and then I can start thinking about what’s next.”

Sasaki was curious about the nature of the debt but decided against prying. He trusted that Nagano, ever the diligent lawyer, had the situation under control.

“Do you think I come off as too flirty with the female customers?” Nishizaki asked suddenly, pinching his uninjured cheek lightly.

“Do you think I’m too flirty with the female customers?” Nishizaki suddenly asked, pinching his uninjured cheek.

“No, you’re polite and professional,” Sasaki replied.

"Nagano told me I come off as overly smooth, but I think I'm just being normal. I’ve been wondering if it does seem like I'm leading people on. I don’t know—I can't see myself objectively," Nishizaki admitted, scratching his head.

"I think your approach is spot-on," Sasaki reassured him. "You’re casual with younger female customers who prefer that, and you use calm, polite language with older patrons. You read the room and adapt. Nagano might just be too serious to grasp the nuances of customer interaction in a job like this."

Relief spread across Nishizaki’s face, and he mimed wiping sweat from his brow. "That’s good to hear," he said with a smile.

After a pause, he added, almost to himself, "I mean, I’m not exactly a kind person or anything," looking down.

"Come on now," Sasaki countered, "As long as your work isn’t affected, it doesn’t matter how popular you are. Maybe Nagano’s is feeling jealous," he teased.

At that, Nishizaki's face turned red. "Jealous? Nagano?" he stammered, pressing a hand to his forehead in exaggerated disbelief. "You’re saying Nagano is jealous of how popular I am?"

"Is there another explanation?" Sasaki said lightly.

"No way. He’s got everything—looks, intelligence, a solid career. He’s even had a girlfriend before."

"Sure, Nagano is handsome, but there’s a kind of tension around him, you know? He’s the type who makes people feel like they can’t fully relax. You, on the other hand, put people at ease. That’s why customers are drawn to you," Sasaki explained.

"I don’t have much pride, that’s all," Nishizaki said self-deprecatingly, his tone heavy with an edge of self-awareness.

"You have pride where it matters," Sasaki said firmly. "You take your work seriously, and you give people a sense of comfort. That’s a sign of kindness."

"You think I’m kind?" Nishizaki murmured, as though the thought had never occurred to him.

Sasaki nodded. "Absolutely."

Looking flustered, Nishizaki drained the rest of his coffee in one go. "The acidity might be a little strong," he commented hastily before retreating to the back room. Guess he’s feeling shy, Sasaki thought.

"Good work today!" Nishizaki called as he left for the night, dressed as always in his neat, understated style. As the seasons changed, his wardrobe would evolve—trench coats in the fall, long coats in the winter—always looking sharp.

"See you tomorrow," Sasaki replied.

Later, as the kitchen cleaning wrapped up, Hashizume came out to the floor.

"I almost thought you were flirting with Nishizaki," he said with a straight face.

"Not a chance," Sasaki replied with a laugh. "I’m a one-woman man."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Hashizume said, grinning as he perched on a barstool.

"Want to try the new blend?" Sasaki offered.

"No thanks," Hashizume said, waving it off. Despite working at a café, Hashizume wasn’t much of a coffee drinker. Sasaki appreciated his honesty—it was far better than needless politeness.

Hashizume crossed his arms, looking thoughtful. "So, Nishizaki’s lawyer friend came by again today."

"Yeah."

"That lawyer, he’s so stiff and uptight," Hashizume said. "I can’t stand guys like that."

Sasaki nodded in agreement. "He does seem a bit... intense."

"But I guess having a lawyer as a partner could be convenient," Hashizume admitted. "I mean, just look at how he handled that recent issue."

"Maybe, but I’d still pass," Hashizume added quickly, making it clear that Nagano’s personality was a dealbreaker for him.

"Well, it’s not really our place to meddle. We just let Nishizaki live his life, right? He’s not like a student who calls in sick at the last minute or skips shifts. He’s reliable and hardworking—employees like him are hard to come by," Hashizume concluded.

Sasaki agreed silently. Nishizaki was indeed a valuable asset to the café, dependable in ways that made him stand out. Whatever his personal life entailed, it seemed unlikely to disrupt his professionalism.

Hashizume hesitated before continuing. "This is just a hunch, but do you think there’s something between Nishizaki and that lawyer?"

"What?!" Sasaki exclaimed, startling Hashizume, who winced.

"Keep it down!" Hashizume said, scowling. "I’m just saying—it kind of seems that way."

"Are you suggesting Nishizaki is gay?" Sasaki asked, still reeling. Nishizaki didn’t give off any obvious signs. His interactions with women were natural, even charming, and his demeanor was universally amicable.

Hashizume shrugged. "I’m not saying for sure. Just… something about the way they act makes me wonder."

"He's so popular, yet he doesn't have a girlfriend," Hashizume mused. "And it’s not like he even talks about wanting one. Even when cute single women approach him, he just casually brushes them off."

"Maybe he overdid it with romance when he was a host and now he’s on a break," Sasaki offered.

"That’s what I thought too," Hashizume said, pausing for a moment, "but after watching how Nishizaki acts around his lawyer friend... I don’t know, it felt more like someone caught cheating trying not to get busted by their girlfriend."

Sasaki recalled the events of the day, the memory swirling around in his mind. Hypothetically, if Nishizaki and the lawyer were a couple, it would explain the frosty looks Nagano gave any women who spoke to Nishizaki. They weren’t just icy—they were territorial.

"Well, we won’t know unless we ask him directly," Hashizume concluded.

Sasaki nodded politely. "True enough."

The conversation stuck with Sasaki as he pondered it during the quiet hours at the café.

＊ ＊ ＊

Nishizaki’s bruised cheek, once as stark as a boxer’s after a bad fight, had faded. The autumn breeze was cool, signaling the start of a new season, but Sasaki couldn’t shake the unease Hashizume’s remarks had stirred.

Nishizaki was an undeniably attractive man. If he were dating another man, it wouldn’t be surprising—but still, the idea left Sasaki feeling unsettled. He tried to rationalize it: "As long as his personal life doesn’t interfere with work, it doesn’t matter who Nishizaki dates."

Sasaki had just returned from a coffee-buying trip abroad and was still groggy with jet lag. He’d stationed himself behind the counter, trying to shake off the exhaustion.

Later, as Sasaki prepared coffee for a customer, a loud voice broke through the calm of the café: "Wow, these prices are high!"

Turning, Sasaki saw Nishizaki stiffen. The newcomer, wearing a wrinkled shirt and faded chinos, looked around the café with a mix of curiosity and disdain. His untidy hair added to the impression of someone who didn’t prioritize appearances.

"Welcome," Sasaki said, shaking off his discomfort as he greeted the customer. He gestured toward a window seat and handed over a menu. As he walked back to the counter, he caught another remark: "Really, so expensive?"

Sasaki bristled internally. Sure, the coffee here might be pricier, but it’s worth it—crafted with care and quality. Still, some people were bound to think it was too expensive, and there wasn’t much he could do about that.

The customer ordered the cheapest option, a “blend coffee,” and then asked, “Is there another waiter here?”

“Are you referring to Nishizaki? He’s currently on a break but will be back by five. Is there something you need from him?” Sasaki replied, observing the man’s demeanor. The customer seemed to be around Nishizaki’s age, possibly an acquaintance, but the man’s rough aura made Sasaki hesitate to press further.

Rather than leaving promptly, the customer took his time drinking the single cup of coffee, seemingly waiting for Nishizaki. At a quarter to five, Nishizaki returned from his break, entering the café casually.

“You look awful,” Nishizaki commented to Sasaki before disappearing into the staff room. Sasaki had meant to tell him about the suspicious customer, but the timing slipped away.

When Nishizaki emerged in uniform, one of the regulars, a woman named Okada, called out to him enthusiastically.

“Nishizaki-kun!”

“Hello, Ms. Okada. What brings you here today?” he replied warmly.

“I brought you a little souvenir from my trip!” Okada said, handing him a small box. It seemed to contain some kind of treat.

“Thank you,” Nishizaki said with a polite smile as he accepted the gift. Okada, though married, often found excuses to give Nishizaki small presents. Since they were inexpensive, he accepted them without fuss. She once admitted that simply watching him was “good for the eyes,” treating him as a purely aesthetic indulgence.

“Did you enjoy your trip?” Nishizaki asked.

“It was amazing!” Okada beamed, launching into stories about her adventures.

Before long, another customer called out for Nishizaki. He took their order and returned to his usual spot by the counter. However, the low voice of the earlier customer interrupted him again.

“Nishizaki.”

The voice belonged to the scruffy man who had spent nearly two hours nursing a single coffee. Nishizaki’s initial reaction was confusion—he tilted his head, clearly trying to place the man.

“You don’t recognize me? It’s Yuzuki,” the man said, his tone tinged with mockery.

Nishizaki turned pale, muttering under his breath, "Yuzuki."

Sasaki, watching from a distance, picked up on the strained atmosphere between them. Whatever their connection was, it wasn’t a warm one.

“You really are cold-hearted,” Yuzuki said loudly, his voice carrying unnaturally through the café. Nishizaki approached cautiously.

“It’s been a while,” he said flatly.

“You haven’t changed much. Though I guess you’ve aged a little—it suits you,” Yuzuki continued, his tone laced with sarcasm.

“Look,” Nishizaki interrupted, his voice quiet but firm, “I’m glad to see you, but I’m at work right now. I can’t chat. Are you off today?”

Yuzuki shrugged. “Something like that. By the way, you never explained why you dropped out of university. Sure, your parents’ suicide and that murder in your family made things complicated, but still…”

The words hit like a bombshell. Sasaki couldn’t believe his ears. Suicide? Murder? His mind reeled as Yuzuki laughed casually, as though recounting trivial gossip.

“They covered it pretty heavily on TV, so I figured everyone knew. Did you keep it a secret from your coworkers? Oops, my bad,” Yuzuki said with mock innocence.

Sasaki now understood the initial unease he had felt about the man—his presence radiated malice. If Yuzuki said anything more, Sasaki was prepared to intervene, but Nishizaki returned to the counter, his face calm and composed. Yuzuki fell silent and resumed drinking his coffee.

Sasaki decided it was best not to dredge up the conversation any further. Nishizaki was clearly handling it, and reopening old wounds would only make things worse. Still, the tension lingered, heavy and unresolved.

Even hours later, Sasaki couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at him. He knew Nishizaki had dropped out of university, worked as a host, and even fallen ill, but the specific reason for his withdrawal had always been vague—something about his parents’ deaths. He’d never thought to ask for more details.

The café was bustling by 7:30 PM, with nearly 80% of the seats filled with dinner customers. Nishizaki moved tirelessly between tables, delivering dishes and clearing plates. However, Yuzuki with malicious intent toward him still lingered in a corner, showing no signs of leaving.

Amid the activity, Yuzuki raised his voice. "Hey, Nishizaki!" he called out obnoxiously.

"Just a moment," Nishizaki replied, balancing a tray of empty dishes. "I’ll be right there."

Yuzuki laughed loudly. "So, Nishizaki, I heard a rumor you were doing meth. Is that true?"

The sharp words pierced through the hum of the café. Conversations faltered as a sudden silence spread. In the middle of the floor, still holding the dishes, Nishizaki froze in place.

"Yeah, meth," Yuzuki continued, his tone taunting. "You know, I heard even if you’re caught, first offenders just get probation. Or did you manage to dodge it entirely? What’d you use—a needle? Classic junkie style, right? Pretty funny stuff."

Nishizaki began trembling visibly. Sasaki, deciding he had heard enough, stepped in.

“Sir,” Sasaki said, standing in front of Yuzuki, “you’re disturbing the other customers. I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Yuzuki’s face twisted into an ugly sneer. “What? This place really throws out paying customers who just ordered a coffee? What kind of trashy place are you running?”

Sasaki straightened his posture, calm but firm. “I’m the owner of this establishment. If you’re here to genuinely enjoy our coffee, you’re welcome to stay. However, I must inform you that I perceive your comments as an intentional effort to slander one of my staff members.”

Yuzuki chuckled darkly. “Oh, I’m just letting the other customers know they’re being served by a waiter who’s into meth. What, are you covering for him? Maybe you’re in on it too?”

The commotion drew the attention of the chef, Hashizume, who emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands. Meanwhile, one of the customers got up to pay at the register, leaving their seat abruptly. Still frozen, Nishizaki twitched as if snapping out of a trance. He set down the dishes at the counter, walked toward Yuzuki, and gripped his arm firmly.

"Yuzuki, come with me," Nishizaki said, trying to guide him toward the exit.

“Ow, ow, ow!” Yuzuki yelped theatrically. “Don’t grab me so hard! You’re gonna break my arm!”

When Nishizaki let go, Yuzuki staggered backward, clutching his arm. “This is assault! Call the cops! Somebody call the cops!” he yelled, escalating his performance.

“I’ve had enough,” came a booming voice. One of the regulars, an older gentleman, stood up and barked at Yuzuki. “You’re the one causing trouble here! Leave at once!”

Yuzuki scowled at the man, then clicked his tongue disdainfully. With exaggerated contempt, he spat on the floor. “This place is garbage, and so are the customers. I’ll post about this online—let everyone know you’ve got a junkie working here. You’ll see.”

With that, he stormed out, leaving behind a poisonous atmosphere.

For a moment, Nishizaki stood paralyzed, then slowly retrieved a mop and cleaned up the spit. When he returned the cleaning supplies, he came back out to the floor. Though his expression was tense, he resumed his duties without complaint.

Customers tried to console him with sympathetic words.

“What a horrible man,” one said.

“Don’t let someone like that get to you,” another offered.

None of them addressed the drug accusation directly. Nishizaki responded with polite nods and vague, safe phrases like, “Thank you,” or “You’re absolutely right,” before moving on to his next task.

But his usual warmth seemed dimmed, his movements automatic. For the first time in the café’s welcoming space, an oppressive shadow lingered.

Dinner service seemed to end earlier than usual, likely due to the tense atmosphere created by that man. As the crowd thinned, Sasaki pulled Nishizaki behind the counter. His complexion was visibly pale.

The moment Nishizaki stepped out of the customers’ view, he slid down the wall and sat on the floor, seemingly drained.

“That guy today,” Sasaki began, “he clearly had it out for you.”

“Definitely intentional harassment,” Nishizaki muttered. “He’s probably going to post a bunch of lies online now…”

He untied his server apron and placed it on the shelf.

“I… I’m quitting,” Nishizaki suddenly declared, standing up and leaving the counter. Before Sasaki could fully process the words, Nishizaki bolted out the door. Sasaki hurried after him but lost sight of his figure as it disappeared into the night.

Forced to return to the café, Sasaki resumed his duties. Shortly after, Hashizume poked his head out of the kitchen and asked, “What happened to Nishizaki?”

“He left,” Sasaki replied with a heavy sigh.

Hashizume lowered his gaze. “Ah… I see.”

When the café finally closed, Sasaki began cleaning as usual. Hashizume didn’t leave either; he sat at one of the chairs in front of the counter. Sasaki opened a bottle of wine meant for sale and poured two glasses—he desperately needed a drink.

“A while back, we had that yakuza incident, but this time it was a whole different kind of bad customer,” Hashizume remarked, taking a sip of wine.

When Yuzuki accused Nishizaki of using drugs earlier, Nishizaki hadn’t denied it. Sasaki suspected there might have been truth to it. Given Nishizaki’s background as a host in Kabukicho, it wouldn’t have been hard for him to access such substances.

“Do you think Nishizaki really did drugs?” Sasaki murmured.

“Maybe he did back then, but he doesn’t seem like he’s doing anything now.”

Sasaki remained quiet. He couldn’t judge Nishizaki, considering he’d once tried marijuana during his youth in the United States. Back then, marijuana was as casual as cigarettes among students. He’d only tried it once, though—heroin and speed were offered to him too, but those terrified him.

“Then again,” Hashizume added, “his boyfriend’s a lawyer. Someone in his position wouldn’t be reckless enough to mess around with that stuff now, right?”

The realization struck Sasaki like a light in the dark. Of course. Even if Nishizaki had dabbled in drugs in the past, he wouldn’t risk it now—not with the potential consequences for his lawyer boyfriend.

Still, Sasaki needed to talk to Nishizaki. He called him, but the phone rang unanswered. A message on LINE went unread for hours, even after it showed “read.”

Hashizume reported the same lack of response.

Frustrated, Sasaki stared at his phone until Hashizume broke the silence.

“You know, that lawyer might not be his boyfriend, but we should call him. He helped with the yakuza thing before. We should ask him about the possibility of someone posting stuff online.”

Sasaki had been considering the same thing. If he reached out to Nagano, maybe he could also relay a message to Nishizaki. With the clock reading 10:30 PM, it was late to make a call, but waiting wasn’t an option. Deciding himself, Sasaki tapped Masayuki Nagano’s number.

＊ ＊ ＊

The following day, the café remained closed until noon. At 9 AM, Nishizaki and Nagano arrived together. Nagano stood tall in a dark navy suit, his posture impeccable and composed. In stark contrast, Nishizaki kept his head lowered, his demeanor dejected. Hashizume joined shortly after, and the four of them settled around a table.

Sasaki brought out freshly brewed coffee, though none of them touched it. The silence that hung over the group was heavy and unyielding, like the lingering weight of a storm that had just passed.

“Nishizaki has explained most of the situation to me,” Nagano began, his voice calm but authoritative.

He outlined their next steps with precision: recording audio or video if Yuzuki showed up again and informing him immediately if any defamatory posts appeared online. Nagano explained that Yuzuki’s actions fell under both business interference and defamation, both legally actionable offenses—even if the accusations had some basis in truth. He proposed sending Yuzuki a formal warning, clearly stating that any repeat behavior would result in legal action.

“Under normal circumstances, a single warning should deter further issues. However, there’s always a chance he might resort to other forms of harassment near the café. Even minor incidents—please inform me immediately.”

But Nishizaki protested, his tone resolute. “I don’t want to blow this out of proportion.”

Sasaki nodded in agreement. A single outburst in the café wasn’t likely to drive customers away. However, the potential damage from online defamation was a legitimate concern.

Nagano listened attentively, addressing the concerns of both the café and Nishizaki with swift and practical solutions. As he laid out the steps, the oppressive atmosphere began to lift, making it clear that leaving such matters to a professional was the wisest choice.

In just an hour, the meeting concluded. Sasaki had expected Nishizaki to begin his shift that afternoon, but unexpectedly, Nishizaki bowed deeply and said, “Please let me quit.”

“Wait,” Sasaki said, startled. “But Nagano-san is handling this—it’s practically solved.”

“I’ve caused too much trouble for the café…” Nishizaki’s voice was steady, resolute.

“There were fewer than ten customers here yesterday, and I’m sure they all knew the other guy was at fault,” Sasaki reasoned, hoping to dissuade him.

Even so, Nishizaki stubbornly shook his head. “It’s not like he didn’t have a reason to say what he did. It’s true—I used drugs in the past.”

The confession hung in the air, heavy and raw. Sasaki, sensing his hesitation, attempted to ease the tension. “If it helps, I tried marijuana once when I was studying abroad in the U.S. It was a stupid decision, just a youthful mistake.”

Nagano interjected, his tone as precise as a scalpel. “The man who caused yesterday’s disruption is Yuzuki, an old high school classmate of Nishizaki’s. I reached out to some former classmates and already have his current address.”

Yuzuki, it seemed, had followed a turbulent path. After attending the same university as Nishizaki, he had landed a prestigious job at a major company but lost it due to an affair, which also led to his divorce. Since then, he’d been drifting from job to job.

“He used to be close to me,” Nishizaki muttered, his voice hollow. Sasaki wondered why someone once considered a friend would stoop to such malice. Nagano provided a plausible answer: “Back in school, Yuzuki seemed to harbor a complex about Nishizaki’s privileged upbringing. Now that he perceives himself as having fallen to rock bottom, the thought of a former classmate thriving—working at a café featured in magazines—must have stung. His behavior reeks of jealousy.”

“You aren’t using now, are you?” Sasaki asked.

"No, of course not," Nishizaki replied with a sharp shake of his head.

Nagano’s voice cut through the air again. “What you did in the past will always follow you, but abruptly leaving the café now would do more harm than good. If you quit, you’ll cause more trouble for the café than staying.”

His tone was sharp, almost devoid of emotion. “Even if you voluntarily go to the police and confess to past drug use, it’s been more than two years. There would be no physical evidence left, and honestly, the police wouldn’t want to deal with such an old case. What they want is for you to stay clean and live quietly. That’s how you atone.”

Nishizaki’s shoulders sagged under the weight of Nagano’s words. Sasaki glanced between them, sensing the immense pressure building around the table. The room fell silent as Nagano’s logic settled over them like a heavy blanket, undeniable yet suffocating.

"Well, that’s probably true," Sasaki thought to himself, but couldn’t help wishing Nagano had delivered it with a gentler touch.

“You’re ashamed of your past because you know what you did was wrong,” Nagano continued. “Fine. Accept it. Maintain the trust you’ve built here. That’s how you can truly move forward.”

Sasaki watched Nishizaki closely, sensing the struggle in his posture. He knew Nishizaki was battling guilt and humiliation, but also a desire to stay and face things head-on.

"You’re good at your job, Nishizaki," Sasaki said gently. "And this place needs you. I’m sure everyone here would agree."

“But... but if someone says something like that again...”

“Deny it.”

Nagano’s tone was sharp and uncompromising.

“Say, ‘That’s not true.’ Lie. There’s no evidence. If lying spares the café, then do it. Whatever emotional toll it takes on you, work through it internally and keep doing your job.”

Nishizaki’s hands trembled, his shoulders shaking visibly. “Excuse me for a moment,” he muttered before slipping out the door. Sasaki watched him go, concerned, while Nagano commented matter-of-factly, “He’s probably gone out for a cigarette.”

“He only smokes when he’s under heavy stress,” Nagano explained. “He doesn’t have much money, so he rarely indulges. Since he started working here, he quit altogether because he said the smell of smoke wasn’t appropriate for someone in customer service.”

Even in his vices, Nishizaki tries to be conscientious... Sasaki thought. The conversation hung heavily in the air, but Nagano’s calm authority somehow grounded it.

“I believe people deserve a chance to rebuild,” Nagano added matter-of-factly. Sometimes, that kind of logical righteousness can be irritating, but right now, it feels oddly comforting, Sasaki realized.

“I agree,” Sasaki said.

“Nishizaki respects you,” Nagano continued, catching Sasaki off guard.

“Sorry—what?”

“He’s told me as much. He respects your knowledge of coffee. He’s even mentioned that he’d like to have a shop like this one someday. For someone who once claimed to have no aspirations, I think it’s remarkable that he now has a goal.”

Sasaki was struck by Nagano’s unexpected insight. For someone who often seemed cold and distant, Nagano had been paying close attention to Nishizaki. He wasn’t just a jealous partner, as Sasaki had once assumed. He genuinely understood Nishizaki.

“Nishizaki’s lucky to have a friend like you,” Sasaki said, deliberately using "friend" instead of something more suggestive. But Nagano’s expression wavered for the first time. His steady gaze dropped, his composure cracking ever so slightly.

“I don’t know what Nishizaki thinks of me,” Nagano admitted. “There are times I find his presence burdensome. There have been moments I wished we could part ways entirely.”

Sasaki could hardly believe what he was hearing. Nagano was always so composed, but this admission carried a deep conflict.

“Regardless, I believe he deserves to keep working here,” Nagano continued, his tone resolute once again. “This job is more than just work for him—it’s a lifeline. If it’s at all possible, I’d appreciate it if you’d let him continue here.”

Sasaki felt a rush of understanding and sympathy for both men. “I never intended to let him go. I want him to stay. He’s an essential part of this place.”

“Thank you,” Nagano said, lowering his head deeply, a gesture of gratitude that, for once, seemed genuinely unguarded.

“Please, lift your head,” Sasaki replied quickly.

Nagano straightened, looking relieved.

Sasaki continued, “He’s thoughtful, hardworking, and incredibly reliable. Employees like him are hard to come by.”

“Nishizaki has done things in his past that he can't tell others about," Nagano said calmly. "But he regrets those actions and has spent the last two years working hard to rebuild his life. Being criticized for past actions is his responsibility and completely justified. However, I believe in giving people the chance to reform and move forward."

Sasaki swallowed hard. The honesty in Nagano's words was both sharp and unwavering. So, this is how he sees Nishizaki. Even though he keeps his distance, he stays nearby out of some sense of obligation or care.

The door to the café opened, and Nishizaki returned. He sat beside Nagano, his expression tense, much like when he had left. The faint smell of cigarettes hung around him. Sasaki couldn’t help but wonder about the relationship between these two. They don’t quite seem like lovers. But they’re definitely closer than just friends… It was hard to pin down.

“I’ll personally meet with Yuzuki and hand him the documents,” Nagano said. “That will likely have more of an impact. If possible, I may try to arrange some work for him. He’s currently unemployed, and having something to focus on could keep him from dwelling on petty grievances. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Sasaki hesitated. “What about the consultation fee—?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Nagano replied curtly.

Sasaki felt increasingly guilty for relying on Nagano for free help, especially after the previous incident with the yakuza. “But you’ve taken time out of your work schedule for this,” Sasaki insisted.

Nagano shook his head. “This involves a former classmate of mine,” he said vaguely, leaving no room for further discussion. Reluctantly, Sasaki handed him a ten-ticket booklet for free coffee at the café, refusing to take no for an answer. Nagano accepted it with a reluctant sigh.

After Nagano left, Nishizaki slumped into his chair, shoulders sagging. In a voice barely above a whisper, he murmured, “I think he’s right.”

“Nagano said as much,” Sasaki said softly, trying to encourage him. “You don’t need to worry about it. If anyone says something, just ignore them.”

Nishizaki didn’t lift his head.

“Your lawyer friend is very principled,” Sasaki added. “He’s strict, but I think he’s a kind and just person.”

There was a pause before Nishizaki muttered, “He’s always been like that. Ever since we were young.”

“He treated me the same whether I was broke or had money,” Nishizaki continued softly. “He’s the only one who never changed.”

“He really cares about you,” Sasaki said gently.

Nishizaki’s head shot up, his face anguished, tears threatening to spill over. Then, just as quickly, he looked away again, his voice trembling as he whispered, “I think so too.”

Previous TOC Next