There's little to think about these days; Shirou finds it easier to talk to the people who come into the bar, but never about himself. His own life for the past few years has been a blank page, free from progress or accomplishment. Some people he knew in high school moved on to college, but it never appealed to him. Rin went to Europe. He had nobody to go home to, and he didn't really care all that much. So he stayed at the Copenhagen Bar and became a bartender.

That's where he is tonight, cleaning glasses with an old rag while the television drones on somewhere behind him. He stares into the glass in his hand absentmindedly. The Copenhagen is a nice place, not one of the more sleazy watering holes in the city. Tonight is just a slow Tuesday night, though. Ms. Hotaruzuka, the owner, is in the back, humming an old song and taking stock. Shirou notes in the back of his mind that she's been more personal toward him in the past few months, ever since the old head bartender died. She's invited him over to her place a few times, but he's never taken her up on the offer. He either says he's tired or that he's got plans. The second part is a lie.

It's about ten in the evening when they come in. Shirou looks up for a moment with a bland smile he gives to all the patrons, and waits for them to sit themselves where they like. He does a double-take at the man and woman.

She's absolutely beautiful, a tall blonde foreign woman. Her eyes are a captivating ruby red. And yet she is dressed modestly, in an old white sweater and a plain violet skirt. She seats herself at the bar a few stools down with her companion, who seems to be in all respects a normal Japanese twentysomething like Shirou himself. He wears a cocky smile and his piercing gray eyes study Shirou behind glasses he looks like he doesn't really need. The woman looks at least a few years older than the man.

Shirou comes over to them and takes their order. A plate of club sandwiches to split and a drink apiece, nothing out of the ordinary. As he gets the drinks and one of the other workers prepares the sandwiches, he makes small talk with the visitors. They are a couple in Fuyuki for a weekend getaway. The woman speaks with a bit of an accent, but Shirou has no idea of what her native tongue might be. The man runs a medical clinic, and his partner is a nurse there. They are married.

Shirou brings them their order and returns to his perch behind the bar. He watches them out of the corner of his eye. They look happy. They have a second round of drinks. The woman deftly tucks a lock of her hair behind her hair. Shirou can imagine himself looking into her deep eyes and kissing her softly as his hand caresses her head and neck. His breath hitches as he swallows that ever-present feeling of being lost. He has to keep that smile on.

Time passes as the couple talks and Shirou muses. Ms. Hotaruzuka comes out at one point and chats with the three of them. All too soon, the man and woman stand up to leave. They pay their bill and give Shirou a nice tip. Then, they make their way back out into the night, hand in hand. Shirou sighs deeply after the door closes.

He goes home like he always does.