There were days when Yuzuru regretted ever getting out of bed.
By the time he realized that this would be another one of those days, it was already far too late.
The door to his shop slammed open, and a purple-haired whirlwind of chaos waltzed in.
"Yuzuru! I'm about to make your day!" Yuri said with a grin.
It was her "devil smile," the kind she wore only when she had a crazy scheme in mind to ruin someone's day. Simply experiencing it was enough to cause the weak-willed to buckle; he had heard many tales of attorneys and witnesses crumpling before the sheer pressure she could exude with a mere smile.
Not for the first time, he could only marvel at his friend's success. With her assertive and confident attitude and a powerful and persuasive voice, she had rarely lost a case, making her one of the most sought-after lawyers in the country.
He wondered why someone like her came back to his dingy old shop time and time again.
"You know, saying that only scares me more than if you hadn't said anything," he replied.
As Yuri walked deeper in the store, a group of about a dozen people followed her, trickling in one-by-one.
"Aw, don't be like that! You're about to earn more money today than you typically do in an entire week!"
He rolled his eyes. "I'd be more grateful if you and your co-workers didn't have the most stringent and complex orders I've ever seen."
He already felt a headache forming. Because really, why couldn't they act like sane people and order something normal (like a vanilla latte) and not something crazy (like a non-fat, sugar-free syrup, extra ice, no whip, extra hot, caramel macchiato upside down).
Yeah. He didn't know what that last one was supposed to mean either.
Yuri smiled mischievously. "Well, it wouldn't do if you didn't have to work for your pay, hmm?"
"There's work, and then there's asking me to be a coffee-making robot who just so happens to be capable of understanding human speech."
She laughed good-naturedly, and he sighed as the orders piled on.
Well, at least they were more generous with their tips than most.
xxx
"So, what's the occasion this time?"
"What, can't I visit my favorite barista when I want to?"
"You rarely do so with half your firm in tow."
Yuri rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine." She leaned back and took a deep gulp of her coffee. "Ah, great stuff as always, Yuzuru." She placed the cup back down and folded her arms in front of her. "It was a child custody case. The father was trying to win custody by accusing his wife of being a drug addict. He even planted evidence by drugging her in her sleep when they were still married!"
She scowled. "Explaining that when he covered his tracks so well was a real pain." She paused, a dark look creeping onto her face. "He also had a history of abusing his children, but he covered that up too. Pinned all the blame on the mother by saying she did it all while in a drug-induced rage." She gritted her teeth as she recalled how the man had lied to their faces. "What a lying, cheating bastard. Too bad for him . . ." Her eyes glowed with an ominous light. "Our investigation team was just a bit too good for him."
She laughed creepily, an eerie sound that sent shivers up his spine.
"For the hero that came in and saved the day," he said. "You sure like to laugh like a villain."
She grinned widely at him. "I can't help it. I just love the sight of my opponents squirming at the podium right before I tear their case to shreds."
He shuddered. Hopefully, he would never be on the receiving end of her stare in that scenario.
"I presume you won the case, then?"
She nodded. "After we exposed his lies, the case was a cakewalk. In the end, even the judge looked disgusted with him." She beamed. "I got a nice, tearful thank-you from the wife afterward, too."
And wasn't that a scene difficult to imagine the normally unflappable lawyer in. But Yuri always did have a soft spot for children and caring parents by extension.
"Well," he said. "I suppose a congratulation is in order."
She looked back at him, and there was a glint in her eyes that made him very, very afraid.
Oh no. It's that grin again.
"You know, I'm feeling generous today." She raised her hand in the air then slammed it down on the counter.
The rest of the room paused as they turned to look at her.
She grinned before saying the words that would spell his doom. "Another round for everyone, all on me!"
As cheers erupted from the other customers, Yuzuru could only clutch his head in despair.
Once was hard enough. Twice . . . ?
He would be surprised if he didn't have a permanent migraine by the end of the day.
xxx
"Ah . . . what a day."
Yuzuru dragged himself through his closing routine, turning off appliances and organizing records. He did not have much cleaning to do; Yuri's bunch could get rowdy, but they always had the decency to clean up after themselves.
"To think I miss their antics already . . ."
It wasn't surprising. After all, the only thing that awaited him now was a sparse and lifeless apartment.
It was something he should have been used to by now. His parents had died while he was young, and his only remaining family was a sister who had been bedridden in a hospital for most of her life and a grandmother who only intervened enough to keep them out of an orphanage.
Without guidance from elders, he had drifted through life, never knowing what he wanted to do or where he wanted to go. Without support and encouragement from those close to him, he had lapsed into a state of apathy, a pitiful existence that could do nothing more than eat and sleep.
If he could, he would rather immerse himself in his job all the time. Connecting with his customers was a welcome reprieve to his otherwise dull life, and at least mundane work would distract him from the feelings of loneliness and apathy that threatened to overwhelm him. But he knew overexerting himself and staying open late would simply cause more trouble for him later.
"Well, that should be everything."
He stepped outside and closed the doors. He fumbled around in his pockets, looking for his keys.
"Huh? Where's my wallet?"
A quick glance revealed a curiously vacant pocket.
He rushed back indoors, frantically searching each area he had been through. The kitchen greeted him with sparkling counters and clean boards. The storage room was just as tidy, not an item out of place. The office appeared to be equally flawless until a hint of dark leather caught his attention –
"Phew, there it is."
As Yuzuru opened his wallet to retrieve his keys, his fingers brushed over a picture he had always kept on him.
Hatsune.
His hand slowed as he caressed the image of his sister's visage. She had been the one light in his life, his sole reason for existence. Even after all these years, he still felt a dull throb in his heart whenever he thought of her.
He could still remember so many small details about her: her bell-like voice as she spoke to him about her day, the sound of her giggles as she read whatever manga he had bought for her, and her angelic smile and the warmth that had spread through him whenever she said those words he longed for.
"Thank you so much, brother."
Those sweet words were the only thing that thawed the ice coating his heart. As the days went by, he had felt as if he were slowly awakening, that the dull and lifeless world he lived in was merely a dream.
Christmas was supposed to be the culmination of his efforts, the day where color swept back into the world like a torrent, carrying them off into a bright new future.
Instead, it was a day of despair, when those pale arms that had been weakly clasped around his neck grew cold and still, when she had whispered "thank you" one last time with that terrible finality in her voice –
Her death had left a gaping hole in his life. In the following days, he did not even have the will to move his body. He had lived for her gratitude, her affection. It was those small, tender moments that had kept him going, those memories he held dear in his heart. What purpose did he have now?
Depression had claimed him after that. With a frozen heart and a numb body, nothing in life had seemed worth living for.
But even in the darkest days of his despair, he could still remember his sister's voice, the earnest gratitude in her tone. Those had been the only times his heart stirred. And once he realized this, he decided . . .
I want to hear it from others.
He would spend his life pursuing that small, fleeting feeling. That rush of joy when he knew someone was happier because of him, that he was the reason for someone's smile.
He would spend his life doing selfless things for selfish reasons.
But life was not so easily changed. During his days of apathy, he had fallen further and further behind. Higher education was not within his reach, so he would have to be content with more mundane work.
With a goal such as his, it was only natural that his first job would be to serve others.
More specifically, he had been an employee at the very coffee shop he now owned.
As he felt himself slip further into memories of an age long past, he shook his head to reorient himself.
"Man, I must be tired to get all lost in thought like that."
He stepped outside once more, and with his newly found keys in hand, he finished his daily routine of closing shop.
He turned away with a heavy heart, dreading the thought of spending another cold, lonely night in his apartment.
At least he had his TV to keep him company. Surfing the channels would keep his mind occupied, at least for a while.
xxx
"Every time she picks up a new interest, she wants to perform some crazy feat with it, like doing a German Suplex or hitting a home run!"
Yuzuru nodded patiently as he poured the customer another drink. The sweet scent of vanilla lingered in the air, along with many other aromas that evoked tantalizing images. Being able to smell such wonderful scents in the morning was part of why he loved his job. Combined with the comforting rhythm of rinsing, washing, and drying used cups, his mind felt at ease.
Although he did not get many customers, the small nature of his shop and his friendly demeanor allowed him to maintain several regular customers.
His clients often complimented him for his store's homey décor and relaxing atmosphere. Many of them came to wind-down after a long, stressful day of work.
Or to vent about whatever personal problems they were dealing with.
"When she can't do it within a week of practice, she gives up and picks a new hobby!"
On occasions like these, it fell to him to dispense advice that would resolve the customer's trouble.
"And I keep telling her that if she keeps on changing hobbies so often, she won't become skilled at any of them!"
A mop of blue hair collapsed onto his counter. Weary, blue eyes stared out at him from under the bangs.
"She always drags me along to help her out. She's getting more and more agitated as we cycle through all these activities without achieving her outlandish goals, and it's taking a toll on me."
He clasped his hands in front of him. "Tell me what I should do!"
"Have you asked her why she's doing all this, Hinata?" Yuzuru asked calmly.
Blue eyes blinked at him. "Huh? Isn't this just something girls like to do? Drag their boyfriends out to do things?"
"I don't think they're usually quite so zealous," Yuzuru replied with a chuckle. "But from what you've told me, it sounds like she's trying to impress you."
"Whaaaaaaat? Impress me?!"
He nodded. "All those crazy feats she wants to do? Her insistence on bringing you along each time? She wants to succeed, and she wants you to be there when she does." He smiled warmly. "She wants you to be proud of her, to praise her for her achievements."
"What? Why . . . why does she feel like she needs to go so far? I love her because of who she is, not because of what she can do!"
"Then tell her that." Yuzuru placed the glass cup that he had just finished cleaning onto a shelf. "People can be insecure; they'll think they're not good enough for their loved ones, that they need to prove themselves worthy of their love."
He allowed himself a moment to admire the glass's gleaming surface, unmarred by any stains or grease.
"If you wipe away the grime on the surface, you'll find that everyone has a beautiful core hidden within."
He picked up the next glass, one covered in filth. Bits of coffee grains clung to its innards while streaks of whip cream smeared its surface.
"Even someone like me?"
The old man laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that shook him to his very soul. "You will take more effort than most to clean up, boy. But rest assured . . ."
His boss leaned in, close enough that he could smell the vanilla and cream on his breath.
"All it takes is the right person to peel away your outer layers. And once they're inside, what treasures will they find, I wonder?"
He turned back to Hinata. "Tell her how you truly feel. Reassure her. Make sure that misunderstandings don't taint your relationship."
Hinata nodded vigorously. "Right, I got it! I just got to be clear and honest!" He pumped his fist. "You're the best, Otonashi! I knew I could count on you!"
Yuzuru chuckled. "You could thank me by ordering another drink."
"Right, right. Another round, to celebrate yet another successful advising session with my favorite barista!"
Yuzuru smiled as he prepared another drink for the energetic young man. Hinata had been one of the first customers to visit ever since he started working here, and the two had become fast friends after a few minutes of chatting.
Back then, he had trouble letting other people get close to him. His apathy and recent depression had given him thorns, a spiky barrier that warded away any who would tread near his heart.
But Hinata had not been afraid of being cut.
"What's the point of living, you ask? It's to enjoy yourself! So stop moping and start living!"
Eventually, Hinata's friendly demeanor and persistence broke through his cold outer-shell. After that, he visited regularly to talk about whatever was on their minds.
He finished preparing the drink and brought it over. "Here you go, just how you like it."
"Ahhhh, thanks!"
Hinata passed over his payment and took a deep gulp. "Now that's the stuff!" He turned back to Yuzuru. "Say, I still got time before I have to get back. Want to watch a baseball game in the meantime?"
Yuzuru glanced around the store. There were no other customers, and nothing else seemed to need his attention. "Sure."
He turned on the TV, and the first channel blared in their ears about a new product that would supposedly "revolutionize the world."
He quickly changed the channel. This one was about a fashion show where models dressed up and posed for the camera.
Hinata whistled. "You know, I wouldn't mind watching this one instead."
Yuzuru rolled his eyes. He changed the channel again and stopped. Hauntingly beautiful piano music gently wafted through the room.
"Huh? That doesn't sound like a sports channel!"
But Yuzuru did not hear Hinata's complaints.
His eyes were fixated on the performer on screen.
She looked so very young, with a diminutive stature that reminded him of a fairy. Long silver hair billowed out behind her, shining brilliantly under the stage-lights as each strand danced to the melody. Eyes of molten gold focused in front of her, an intense gaze that allowed for no distractions. Her skin was porcelain, as unblemished as that of an angel. A white gown completed the image, an ethereal beauty that would disappear the moment one tried to grasp it.
Her fingers played with unerring precision, a technique so flawless that her hands seemed to flow over the keys instead of pressing them. Her body swayed with the rhythm, subtle motions that gave her the vibrancy of a dancer despite being restricted to a seat.
The song was slow, but each note was sharp and focused. It pierced through his fleshy shell and carved itself straight into his soul, each cadence infused with meaning and emotion.
The song was dark, a tale of tragedy and sorrow. There was a rise and fall to it, like a hope that had been cultivated simply so it could be dashed to the ground.
The song was a message, a representation of the pianist, imbued with her regrets, her fears, and her wishes.
The performance captivated him, like a star that drew in everything around it. Nothing else seemed to matter; he tuned out everything else until it was just him, the girl, and the music that tied them together.
And then all too soon, it was over.
She stood up and bowed, an elegant motion that only seemed to accentuate her natural grace. A wave of applause washed over her, a torrential outburst that seemed to have no end. The camera zoomed out, revealing just how massive the concert hall truly was.
It looked as if it could easily fit over a thousand people, and it was filled to the brim with attendees, all cheering for the one girl that had brought them there today.
The girl herself was now a mere speck on the screen. She looked so small, standing next to the imposing grand piano. The stage was wide and barren, the lights all focused on her. She was surrounded by a throng of humanity, but they could not have been further away. Because to them, she was unreachable, an angel who played with inhuman grace and heavenly hands.
He had never seen someone look so lonely.
The TV shut off, startling him out of his thoughts.
Hinata put down the remote and looked at him with concern. "Are you okay? You were really out of it there."
Yuzuru nodded numbly. "I'm fine. Just got a bit overwhelmed."
Hinata seemed skeptical but didn't press the issue. "If you say so."
"Who was she anyway?" Yuzuru asked.
Hinata looked surprised. "What? Don't you know who she is? She's like, one of the most famous pianists alive right now!"
Yuzuru shook his head. "This is the first time I've seen her."
Hinata grinned. "Oh? You seemed to be staring at her quite intently during the performance." He nudged his friend with an elbow. "Saw something you like?"
Yuzuru scowled. "Just answer the question."
"Fine, fine." Hinata rolled his eyes. "She hasn't given out her real name, but her stage name is Angel, and she's one of the youngest concert pianists to ever live."
Angel?
The name felt oddly appropriate. Perhaps it was her appearance, the very image of an inhuman beauty. Perhaps it was her performance, demonstrating a skill that seemed untouched by mortal flaws.
Or perhaps it was the way she stood apart from the crowd, just like an angel tasked with watching over humanity.
Countless other thoughts ran through his mind, all focused on this girl. He wondered what it was about her that had ensnared him so easily.
There was the loud thunk of a glass hitting the counter as Hinata finished his drink.
"Well, it's been nice chatting with you, but I got to head back to practice. Coach is gonna kill me if I'm late!"
Yuzuru half-heartedly waved as his friend rushed out the door, his mind still focused on sorting out his feelings regarding the mysterious, silver-haired girl.
xxx
"Have a nice day!"
He sighed as the customer left and his store was empty once more. As he went over the records from the day, he noticed that the store's traffic had hovered around the norm.
Which was to say, not very much at all.
It was enough to pay the bills (most of the time) and make a living but expanding was out of the question at the current rate.
He leaned back in his seat, reminiscing about his old boss and the latter's sheer enthusiasm for anything related to food.
"Food is a fine art! An art I intend to master, and once I have, I will share my genius with the rest of the world!"
Sorry boss, he thought. But I don't think I can carry on your legacy.
All the recipes he knew were the ones that his former manager had taught him. He had never felt the drive nor the need to experiment, to innovate and come up with new exotic dishes like his former boss had.
He was grateful to the old man. He had been given a chance, an opportunity to prove himself when most other people would have outright rejected the disheveled and vacant-eyed boy he had been back then.
It had taken a while, but combined with his boss's constant need to regale him with his discoveries and the sheer necessity of interacting with people to perform his job, he had slowly come out of his shell.
He wasn't cured. Not by a long shot. But it had dulled his pain, made his loneliness and apathy a lingering thought in the back of his mind instead of an all-consuming force that threatened to overwhelm him.
At least while he was working anyway.
Nighttime was the worst; without his work or other people to distract him, the feelings threatened to come back in force.
But he had grown accustomed to dealing with the tendrils of dark feelings that threatened to encroach on his heart.
He stretched as he glanced outside. It was getting late, but it was still a few hours before his usual closing time. He briefly considered closing early. After all, the streets were empty, so it was unlikely that another customer would walk in. His feelings were still in a jumble from watching that concert earlier in the day, and it would be nice to have a few more hours to himself so he could sort himself out.
The bell rang, signifying the entrance of another customer, and the whole internal debate became a moot point.
"Welcome! What can I get . . . you . . ."
Even as his cognitive functions stopped working, a small part of him was dimly aware that it was her, that the girl who had captured his imagination was standing right there in his shop, and would he pull himself together already?!
Unknowing of his internal turmoil, the pianist walked forward with a gentle, steady gait. Her white skirt swished with the motion, and her footsteps echoed out loudly in the otherwise silent shop.
As she approached the counter, Yuzuru's brain had recovered enough where he noticed the white blouse and short, blue jacket she now wore that made her no less elegant than the white gown she had worn for her performance.
This close, he could discern features that a mere camera could not convey: the fresh and breezy scent that lingered around her, the way her golden eyes reflected a stray ray of light in a brilliant manner, the perfectly rounded face that gave her a pure aura of innocence –
She reached the counter and sat down on a stool, and suddenly the situation felt all too real as if he hadn't fully realized her presence until she was right in front of him.
As she opened her mouth, Yuzuru's thoughts were racing. What will she order? What song was she playing at the concert? Would it be rude to ask for an autograph?
"Mapo tofu, please."
His train of thought came to a screeching halt.
What.