Chapter 1

The train from Saitama to Shibuya took forty minutes. As the

station announcement rang out, she closed her book, tucked it

away, adjusted her frameless glasses, and hopped off. Glancing

at her phone, she muttered, “10:30 AM. Plenty of time before

meeting the girls.”

Shielding her eyes from the scorching sun in Hachiko Square,

she leaned against the station wall and scrolled through her

Line contacts for Megumi Nakamura. Typing, “Good morning,

Megumi-San. Can we meet a little earlier, just the two of us?”

she waited as the dots danced on her screen. Megumi quickly

replied, “Hi, Shiori-San. What’s up?” “I want to discuss the

intern application with you,” she sent back. “Sure. Where can

we meet?” Megumi asked.

The lively square buzzed around her—pedestrians, performers,

cars, and chatter. “Too crowded here,” she thought,

checking her maps for a nearby coffee shop.

At the top of the list was Blue Bottle Coffee, about ten minutes

away. “Perfect!” she smiled, typing, “There’s a coffee shop

near Shibuya Station; here’s the location.” Megumi replied swiftly, “Thanks for sharing the location. I’ll

meet you there in thirty minutes. Deal?”

“Okay, I’m in Shibuya. I’ll walk around a bit. See you later.”

Shiori pocketed her phone and strolled toward the coffee shop.

Amidst the bustling crowd at Shibuya Crossing, she muttered,

“Even in this heat, it’s packed here.” Within minutes, she arrived

at the café overlooking the park. “Now, I’ll just wait,” she

thought as she stepped inside, unaware of the exciting encounter

that awaited her.

* * *

Nestled in Kitaya Park, northwest of Shibuya Scramble, Blue

Bottle’s Coffee features minimalistic wooden accents and volcanic

ash-glazed tiles, creating a serene oasis from the bustle

of Shibuya Crossing.

Shiori took a moment to absorb the view of the café before

heading upstairs to the second floor and sitting by the window.

She pulled out her book and began reading. Moments later, a

male voice interrupted her, “Welcome to Blue Bottle. Would

you like to order now or look at the menu first?” Shiori raised

her head to see a young man, likely in his mid-twenties, above

average height, lean-built, with a warm smile, standing next to

her table. She paused briefly before answering, “I’m waiting for

a friend. We’ll order together.”

The young man nodded. “Got it.” As he turned, he said,

“Keigo Higashino’s books aren’t for the faint-hearted. You

have a unique taste.” Shiori raised an eyebrow. “Wait! You

read Higashino?” He nodded. “I have, but I prefer Yukito

Ayatsuji for mystery.” Shiori smiled. “So you enjoy puzzles

over psychological twists?” He nodded. “I assume you’ve read Ayatsuji?” Shiori chuckled. “Anyone who loves mysteries

encounters him.”

The young man nodded, “A fair point. Who do you prefer,

Miss—” he paused for Shiori’s introduction, “Shiori Fujimura.

Pleased to meet you.” “Takumi Yamada, at your service,” he

replied, bowing slightly. Shiori nodded. “Pleased to meet you,

Yamada-San. I prefer Higashino; his psychological analysis

elicits sympathy for criminals, despite their deeds.” Takumi

furrowed his brow and then smiled. “I see your point, Fujimura-

San, but sympathy for criminals isn’t that simple.” He bowed

again. “Excuse me.” He turned and walked away. Shiori

furrowed her brow, muttering, “What was that about?”

As she resumed reading, her phone buzzed; it was a text

from Megumi: “I’m outside the café. Where are you?” Shiori

replied, “I’m on the second floor; come on up.” She looked

out the window and saw a tall girl with long hair tied in a high

ponytail, holding her phone in one hand and a handbag in the

other, standing near the entrance and scanning the area. The

girl checked her phone, then tilted her head toward Shiori and

waved. Shiori waved back and motioned for her to come upstairs.

As the girl approached Shiori’s table, Shiori laughed. The girl

paused, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. Shiori gestured for her

to join, and she sat down, placing her bag and phone on the table.

“What’s so funny?” she asked. Shiori leaned in, whispering,

“Look at the trail of broken hearts you’ve left behind, Megumi-

San.” Megumi raised an eyebrow, then noticed several guys at

other tables fidgeting and sneaking glances at her. Sighing, she

replied, “Believe it or not, I hate that kind of attention, but I

can’t help it. All I can do is ignore the stares.”

Shortly after Megumi arrived, Takumi returned with two

menus and placed them in front of Shiori and Megumi, repeating with a warm smile, “Welcome to Blue Bottle, Miss. Would you

like to order now or look at the menu first?” Megumi smiled at

Takumi while Shiori replied, focused on her phone, “We’ll call

you once we’ve looked at the menu.” Takumi scoffed, mumbling,

“I guess I deserved that.” He bowed and left.

Megumi glanced at Shiori and Takumi, frowning. “What was

that about?” Shiori replied, “He gave me attitude, so I returned

the favor.” Megumi chuckled. “Ouch! I guess he saw that

coming.” She leaned in. “But isn’t he handsome? Not dropdead

gorgeous, but he catches the eye.” Shiori snorted. “Wow,

Megumi-San! I never thought you’d say that, especially since

you avoid talking to guys in our class.” Megumi straightened,

her tone serious. “Acknowledging looks is one thing; starting

pointless conversations with guys is different. They still act like

high schoolers, even in college.” Shiori chuckled. “I see your

point.”

Megumi browsed the menu. “So many options!” she said

to Shiori. “What do you think?” Shiori replied, “Let’s keep it

simple. We have just an hour before meeting Konomi-San and

Haruka.” Megumi nodded and scanned the room for a waiter,

spotting Takumi in the corner. She waved him over. “Ready

to order?” he asked. “Yes, I’ll have a flat white,” Shiori said.

“And a latte for me,” added Megumi. Takumi jotted down their

orders. “Anything else? Pastries or cookies?” Megumi glanced

at Shiori, who shook her head. “Just the coffee,” she replied.

“Understood. Please wait a moment.” Takumi bowed and left.

Shiori pulled a print from her bag. “Let’s discuss the intern

application. Did you notice any specific questions, Megumi-

San?” Megumi pointed at one: “Write three lines about what

you seek in the internship.” Shiori smiled, “As expected from

our star student. What do you think?” Megumi tapped her lips, saying, “They want employees with real goals.” Shiori nodded,

impressed. “Great observation, Megumi-San.” Megumi

blushed, “It’s nothing; I learned from my businessman father.”

“Have you thought of an answer?” Shiori asked. Megumi tilted

her head and said, “I want to learn to balance my workload and

reduce repetitive tasks.” “Professional answer,” Shiori praised.

“Good for you, Megumi-San.” Megumi brushed it off. “Just

lucky to be a businessman’s daughter. What about you?” Shiori

replied, “I want to enhance my research skills to find better

solutions for our work processes. “Megumi scoffed, “And you

say my answer was great.” Shiori chuckled, “Don’t feel down;

we all have our own strengths.”

Takumi arrived with their orders, placing two steaming plates

of lemon pancakes next to the girls’ coffee mugs. Shiori raised an

eyebrow. “We didn’t order food.” “It’s on the house,” Takumi

said, leaning closer. “Consider it an amendment to my earlier

behavior.” Shiori looked at Megumi, who nodded. Smiling,

she replied, “Okay, apology accepted, thanks to her.” Takumi

chuckled, glancing at Megumi. “Not every day you get vouched

for by a gorgeous lady. Thank you.” Megumi blushed and hid her

face, while Shiori laughed. “Enjoy your meal,” Takumi said with

a bow. “Call me if you need anything.” “Thank you, Yamada-

San. We will,” Shiori replied.

After Takumi left, Megumi looked at Shiori, her eyes sparkling.

Leaning in, she whispered, “Shiori-San, I think he likes you!”

Shiori’s eyes widened, and her face flushed. “What do you

mean? It’s just pancakes.” Megumi shook her finger. “Not just

any pancakes—fresh lemon pancakes, a specialty here.” Shiori

scoffed, “He’ll need more than sweets to win me over.” After

taking a bite, Megumi hummed, “Oh, Shiori-San! You have to

try them!” Shiori raised an eyebrow but gasped after her first bite. “You’re right! They’re not your usual pancakes.” Megumi

grinned, “So?” Shiori sighed, “Fine, he gets an A for effort but

has a long way to go.” Megumi brightened, “So you like him?”

Shiori blushed, looking away. “I didn’t say that; he just made

good pancakes.” Megumi winked, “Sure, just pancakes.” Shiori

fidgeted, her cheeks burning. “Stop it, Megumi-San. This is

embarrassing.” She grabbed her fork. “Let’s finish quickly for

ice cream.” Megumi chuckled, “As you say, Shiori-San.” They

spent the rest focused on desserts, with Megumi glancing at

Shiori, who avoided eye contact.

* * *

Leaving the coffee shop, Shiori glanced around, her brow furrowed.

Megumi patted her shoulder. “He’s not here, Shiori-San.

Maybe his shift ended.” Shiori sighed. “I guess I won’t get to

thank him for those delicious pancakes.” Megumi chuckled.

“Just the pancakes?” Shiori blushed. “Give me a break. I’m just

being considerate.” She adjusted her glasses. Megumi shrugged.

“Whatever you say, Shiori-San.”

As they left the café and reached the park’s edge, a voice called,

“Fujimura-San.” They turned to see Takumi approaching

quickly. Shiori smiled, then covered her mouth and cleared

her throat. “Is something wrong, Yamada-San?” Megumi

turned away, stifling a snort. Takumi extended his hands with

a bag. “I think you’ll enjoy this, Fujimura-San.” Shiori took

the bag and peeked inside. A gasp escaped her lips. “This is

. . .” Megumi glanced in. “Oh, it’s a book,” she confirmed.

Shiori beamed, “Not just any book. It’s my favorite by Keigo

Higashino, The Devotion of Suspect X!” She turned to Takumi,

“How did you know?” Takumi replied, “When you talked about Higashino’s style and how it made you sympathize with the

criminal, I sensed your enthusiasm. I realized you must love

this book.” He paused, his expression tightening. “I owe you

an explanation for my earlier behavior. I lost my parents to an

arsonist when I was seven. It took years to catch him. When

the police asked why he did it—” Takumi clenched his fists.

“All he could do was shrug and say, “No particular reason.’” He

trembled as Megumi and Shiori covered their mouths in disbelief.

After a moment, Takumi took a deep breath and offered a smile.

“Sorry you had to see that.” Shiori shook her head. “It’s okay.

At least he was caught. It may not be the closure you wanted, but

it’s something.” Takumi nodded. “I guess so.” Shiori bowed.

“Thank you for the book.” She turned to Megumi. “Let’s go;

it’s almost time.” As they began to move, Takumi called out,

“Fujimura-San, will I see you again?” Shiori paused, fidgeting

with the bag. She looked at him. “I’ll think about it,” she said,

then hurried away. Megumi chased after her, giving Takumi a

thumbs-up gesture.

A coworker approached Takumi, who was trailing the girls

with a wide smile on his face. The coworker looked at Takumi,

scratching his head, “You’re a weird guy, Yamada. You could’ve

easily won that stunning tall girl, but you chose the nerdy midget

instead.” Takumi glared at him before sighing, “It’s more than

just the looks, my friend. You have a lot to learn.” Both went

inside the shop to seek shelter from the noon’s heat.

Chapter 2

On the train back home, Shiori gazed at the buildings passing

by, reflecting the orange hues of the sunset. She sighed, “What

a day this turned out to be.”A smile appeared on her face when

she looked at the bag Takumi gave her. She took the book out

and examined it. To her surprise, the book had a paper cover

above its original hardcover. As she removed the paper cover,

an envelope was taped to its back with her name on it. She

chuckled while muttering, “That sneaky weasel.” She opened

the letter and started reading, “To the girl who gave me an

attitude adjustment and stole my heart in the process. I wish

you a successful summer and that things go well with your

internship.” Shiori gasped, “He was watching me the whole

time, and I didn’t even notice.” She continued, “It took a lot

of courage to write this letter to you, and sorry that I had to be

subtle about it.” Shiori chuckled, “More like in stealth mode,

you sly fox.” She resumed reading, “It’s not every day that one

is lucky to feel a genuine connection with someone as intelligent

and enthusiastic as you. (Did I mention how beautiful your smile

is?). Shiori blushed and looked around her. She sighed, “Thank God everyone is busy with their phones.” She returned to the

letter, “I must say, you caught my eye when you sat on that chair

and pulled that book from your bag. It was a rare sight for me

to see someone interested in anything besides a cell phone. Let

alone a novel by Higashino. But what really got me was your

no-nonsense reaction to my childish behavior (I hope I can find

a chance to explain myself). You sent me a clear message that

either I respect you or go away. And that resonated with me.”

Shiori smiled, “And I liked your way of owning your mistake and

rectifying it—in the most delicious way possible.” She stifled a

laugh before she resumed reading, “I’m happy I met you today,

and I hope from the bottom of my heart it won’t be the last time

I see you. If you decide to give me, us, a chance, I left you a small

puzzle. Solve it, and you get my phone number. Happy hunting

;)”

Shiori’s jaw dropped at the last sentence, “You little . . . Fine!

I’ll play your game.” She turned the letter to find Something

written on the back, “I’ve circled some kanji on the pages to

represent my number. Remember, look at the bigger picture.”

Shiori began flipping the pages of the book, and as Takumi

mentioned, there were some kanji circled with a pencil. Shiori

raised an eyebrow, “What the . . . the circles are only on one

page, and . . . some kanji are more emphasized than others.”

Shiori took out her phone and started compiling the kanji, and

the solution hit her mid-process. She chuckled, marked the page

with a small fold, and put the book away as the train reached her

stop in Saitama.

* * *

Shiori’s apartment complex was a five-minute walk from the station. She took the elevator to her floor, walked down the

corridor, and opened her door. “I’m home,” she announced.

Her mother replied, “Welcome home, dear.” Shiori found her

mother on the couch, watching TV. “Hi, Mom,” she greeted. “Hi,

dear. How was your summer kickoff party?” Shiori chuckled,

“It was great, although I had to pay Haruka for tricking her into

coming early.” Her mother laughed, “Don’t tell me she arrived

on time?” Shiori smiled, “She did and wasn’t impressed to be

the first one there.”

The mother examined her daughter. “Something on your

mind, dear? I’m sure there’s more than just that prank on

Haruka.” Shiori smiled. “You and Dad read me like a book.”

Her mother motioned to the couch, and Shiori nestled against

her chest. “I met a guy at a coffee shop in Shibuya.” Her

mother teased, “Is he handsome?” Shiori chuckled. “He’s

above average.” Her mother asked, “What did he do to catch

your attention?” Shiori replied, “He complimented my reading,

gave me attitude, apologized with pancakes, and gifted me my

favorite novel.” The mother nodded. “Sounds like a gentleman.”

Shiori sighed. “I don’t know, Mom. I’m not ready.” Her mother

asked, “Ready for what, dear?” Shiori stammered, “Falling in

love. I’m still figuring life out. I’m not even in my second year

yet.” Her mother tilted her head. “Shiori, the best part of love

is that it comes when we least expect it. We choose whether to

welcome it or not.” Shiori looked at her mother. “How, Mom?”

The mother replied, “By trusting your heart.”

Shiori asked, “Did that happen with you and Dad?” Her

mother tilted her head, staring at the ceiling before replying,

“Now that you mention it, yes.” She chuckled. “We couldn’t

stand each other at first. He was disciplined and punctual, while

I was his intern nurse. When he scolded me for tardiness or missed details, I would push his buttons. But one day, he asked

why I acted that way. I told him he needed to change his attitude

if he wanted good results. He did, and it won me over. Here we

are.” Shiori smiled, “I understand now. Thanks, Mom.” Her

mother pulled her closer with a smile, “Anytime, dear.”

Shiori entered her room, sat on the bed, opened her book

to the marked page, and dialed Takumi’s number. “Hello?”

he answered. Shiori chuckled, “Success on the first try. Yay!”

After a pause, Takumi replied, “I’m happy to hear your voice,

Fujimura-San. Can I keep this number?” Shiori grinned, “Only

if you skip the corny nicknames.” Takumi laughed, “I know

better than that.” Shiori then asked, “Want to know how I

solved the puzzle?” “Do tell,” he replied. She began, “Initially, I

thought the kanji you marked were part of a phrase, but it didn’t

make sense. It wasn’t until I compared the kanji locations on

the page to the buttons on my phone that I figured it out. Once I

placed the double numbers right, it worked.”

Takumi chuckled, “I never expected less from you. But what

mattered more was that you gave us a chance. You have no

idea how happy that made me, Fujimura-San.” Shiori’s smile

widened. “Let’s drop the formalities. You can call me Shiori, and

I’ll call you Takumi-San. Deal?” “Okay, Shiori-San,” he replied,

warmth dancing in his voice. She smiled so wide her cheeks

ached. “When can I see you again?” Shiori tapped her chin,

gaze drifting to the ceiling. “Next Sunday?” “Great! I’ll see

you then,” Takumi beamed. “One more thing,” she interjected,

her eyes sparkling. “I want us to have those lemon pancakes

together.”