They had settled into a routine after that day.

It was not something they had planned out. Rather, it was something that had arose due to sheer repetition.

In the morning, he would pick up supplies, set up shop, and do whatever else needed to be done before he opened for the day. From then on until well into the afternoon, he would serve whoever came by to visit his shop. Sometimes one of his regulars would come and he would chat with them for a while.

In the evening, once the chance of someone coming in became almost nil, he would stop by a certain shop and pick up some Mapo tofu. (He had asked her at one point if she wanted to add any seasoning to it, and she had told him to add anything that made it spicier).

(She had seemed especially pleased the next day).

Then he would return to his own shop and busy himself with whatever tasks still need to be done.

She always came around the same time.

He had come to anticipate it: that moment when the sun ducked under the horizon, when the fading sunlight fled from the streets, leaving behind only a warm glow.

When the bell rang to signal her entrance, it sounded different than when it heralded the arrival of anyone else. For her, its tinkle seemed more harmonious, as if it knew she was a musician and that it should perform better for one who spent her life creating such beautiful sounds.

He always left the package in the same place, and she always sat down in the same spot. He would busy himself with cleaning up and other chores he needed to do after a day's worth of work, such as tallying up costs, recording the day's sales, and other bookkeeping activities (Hinata constantly ribbed him about how his numbers barely grew, if they did at all).

But he found that he didn't mind.

After all, they were what led him to meet her.

He considered low sales a small price to pay to have an angel's comforting presence in his shop. She never greeted him when she sat down; instead, she would tear into the package with a single-minded determination he didn't think anyone could possess for something as mundane as food.

While this might seem strange to some, for them, it was a form of mutual understanding.

They already knew what the other felt, so what need was there to express it in words?

Time would slowly trickle by in this fashion, with nothing to break the silence except for the clink of a spoon on a bowl and the clatter of glasses and plates being reorganized.

"So, how was your day?"

He would open with this question after she finished eating.

They would aimlessly talk about the little things that happened during their day; she would comment on new songs that she was learning, and he would tell her of the antics of a customer that came in that day.

It was all idle chatter, but he found these regular conversations to be comforting. They brought a feeling of vitality and warmth into his shop at a time when it usually remained barren aside from himself.

Eventually, night would fall, and she would give him a brief nod before getting up and leaving. He would wave, and sometimes she would turn around at the door to return the gesture. Over time, he got used to her tendency for silent farewells.

He found that he didn't mind her taciturn nature very much; considering some of the more . . . demanding customers he got during the day, interacting with someone who didn't expect much from him was a welcome relief.

It all felt very natural and simple: he didn't have to wrack his brain looking for something appropriate to say like he did with so many others. There was no pressure, no expectation from the other person that he was trying to live up to.

He could just relax and let the words flow naturally.

Of course, not all her visits were the same. He had tried to engage with Shiina again during the first few visits. She had rebuffed him each time until she had finally relented and allowed him to do something for her.

He glanced over at Shiina, who had remained quiet in her corner all this time.

"Are you sure you don't want anything?"

Annoyance flashed across her face before a more contemplative expression appeared.

"I would like a broomstick."

He blinked as his train of thought was derailed.

"You want . . . to buy my broomstick?"

What was it with people coming into his store to order the strangest things?

First cherries, then Mapo tofu, and now a broomstick.

At least the first two were actually food items. He wasn't sure what gave the girl the idea that he was a convenience store now.

Shiina looked irritated. "I want to borrow your broomstick."

Oh. That made . . . slightly more sense.

It still didn't make a whole lot of sense since he had no idea what she wanted to do with his broomstick.

Maybe she was going to sweep the floor?

That would be the most obvious scenario, but he would feel bad if he let her do it.

After all, it shouldn't be the guest's duty to care for the host's domain.

"Ah, do you want to sweep the floor? You don't need to worry about that; I can maintain the store just fine on my own."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, and he began to sweat from the intensity of her murderous gaze.

"Just. Give. It. To. Me."

Well, if she wanted to do it so bad, then he should probably comply before he suddenly became a human pincushion.

He rushed to his storage room, the heat of her gaze spurring him on. He grabbed his broom, an old but well-cared-for tool that he had been using since the day he started working there.

Shiina's stare relaxed as he offered it to her like a knight presenting his sword to his queen.

She took it without a word and stalked back to her corner.

As he watched in bemusement, she flipped the broom upside down and set the tip of the handle on the underside of a finger.

She held it in that position for a moment . . . then . . .

She let go.

"Hey, it's gonna fall –"

Yuzuru stopped, his face slack in astonishment.

Because balanced on that girl's finger was his upside-down broom, its form so motionless that it reminded him of a skyscraper, towering and immobile.

While he stood slack-jawed in amazement, the girl pulled out a pair of scissors and balanced it just as easily on another finger.

"Bring me your mop."

His mouth clicked shut. "Huh?"

She glared at him. "I told you to bring me your mop."

He didn't bother arguing this time. He rushed back to his storage room and came back with the requested item.

She snatched it out of his hands without even looking and added it to the growing collection of tools balanced on her fingers. She held that pose silently, her gaze locked onto the items she held so precariously.

"Don't worry about your mop and broom."

His gaze snapped back to Kanade. "What?"

She looked at him with an unflappable expression. "Shiina never drops an item."

He slowly swiveled back towards the black-haired girl.

"Is that so," he murmured.

He stared at Shiina for several minutes, but she did not make so much as a twitch during that time. The only way he could tell that she was still alive was the way her eyes constantly darted between the items she held.

"Bring me a screwdriver."

He sighed in resignation at her expectant gaze towards him.

This girl really thought that he was a convenience store, didn't she?

xxx

"What's it like, performing for so many people?"

It was an innocent question, one that might have come up in any casual conversation with a person who performed for a living, but Kanade seemed to shrink in on herself when he asked it.

They were sitting in his shop, following their usual routine. Yuzuru sat at the counter with his arms folded, having finished cleaning platters and cups. Across from him, Kanade sat, nursing a cup of coffee.

He frowned in concern at her sudden silence. "Hey, what's wrong?"

She looked away. "It's nothing . . . I just . . ."

He sighed before leaning in with a small smile. "If you're having any troubles, you can talk to me about them. It's what I usually do during the day anyway. I think some of my regular customers are treating me as a life counselor!" he said lightheartedly.

A certain blue-haired fellow with a hyperactive girlfriend came to mind. Why, just the other day, he had to dispense advice on how to "make amends with a girlfriend whose favorite guitar you broke."

He had no idea how to deal with something like that, so he told his friend to take the beating and move on.

Last he heard, said friend was confined to a bed because his entire body felt like one giant sore.

Yeah. He hadn't expected him to take the advice so literally.

Hopefully, Kanade's troubles wouldn't be quite so . . . dangerous.

She looked at him hesitantly. "Oh . . . well . . ." She paused as she collected her thoughts. "I always feel it. Every time. The sensation of hundreds of eyes staring at me. Watching me. It's enough to make my gut churn. It makes me want to freeze up or run away," she confessed.

He raised an eyebrow. "Stage fright?" he asked in surprise. "Are you having trouble with your performances because of it?"

She shook her head. "I always practice enough that I don't have to concentrate too much on the song to play it flawlessly. But feeling that every time I perform is . . . unpleasant."

He leaned forward. "Has it gotten better over time? Are you slowly adjusting to it?"

"No . . . I don't think so. It makes me just as nauseous as before."

"Is that so? Well . . ." He frowned as he pondered this issue. "What about when you performed for smaller groups of people?"

She glanced at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, it sounds like the sheer volume of people is what's causing you distress. How did you feel when performing for smaller groups, like that time you played for the kids at the community center?"

She gazed off into the distance thoughtfully. ". . . I felt fine."

He smiled as a solution seemed to apparently make itself known. "In that case, then try to do that more often! Starting small then working your way up should allow you to get used to it over time."

"But . . ." she said with an uncertain expression. "How can I do that? I can't control how many people come to my concerts."

"Can't you sell fewer tickets or something?"

"I don't think the one in charge would do that for such a silly reason."

"Don't call it a silly reason," he gently chided. "It's a problem, and it's a good thing that you acknowledged it." He frowned. "But, you're right. Others might not see it the same way."

He furrowed his brows in thought. "Couldn't you ask the people who live in your house to watch you play?"

"They are far too busy for me to trouble them with this. Besides, I am used to them being there all the time."

"Hmm, what if you practiced somewhere else with more people?"

"Like where?"

"Uh, a music hall, perhaps?"

She blinked at him. "I've played in every music hall in this city. I would draw a crowd just by going there."

"Oh," he said sheepishly. "I guess that would defeat the point of not having a massive audience form." He furrowed his brows in thought. "Do you know anyone who has a keyboard you could use? Someone who would also be willing to act as an audience."

She shook her head. "No, there's no one."

Yuzuru rubbed his chin as he pondered this dilemma. If she didn't know anyone who fits the bill, then maybe he did? He knew Yuri had a lot of connections; maybe one of them owned a piano and was willing to be discreet. He was on good terms with the woman in charge of the community center he regularly volunteered at, and he knew they had a keyboard (banged-up though it may be), but she was typically quite busy, and he didn't want to trouble her with any more issues. Hinata was a baseball player, but wasn't his girlfriend in a band or something –

His face lit up. He had found the perfect solution.

"If I had a keyboard in here, would you be willing to use it for practice?" he asked. "I would be able to act as your audience, although I am only one person."

She looked at him thoughtfully. "I would . . . but you don't have a keyboard," she pointed out.

"Not now," he said with a grin. "But if things go well, then I might have one soon."

She looked at him curiously. Slowly, a small smile graced her face.

"I look forward to it."

He smiled back. "So do I."

xxx

"You want to know . . . what?"

Yuzuru rolled his eyes. "I want to know if Yui has a spare keyboard in storage."

Hinata narrowed his eyes at him. "And just why do you want to know that?"

"Because if she does, I want to ask her if I can borrow it and set it up in my shop."

"And just what would you do with it? Last I knew, you weren't exactly a musician."

"Who said I would be the one playing it?"

Hinata looked at him in confusion. Slowly, his eyes widened as the pieces clicked into place.

"Wait . . . you managed to convince Kanade to play in your shop?!"

Yuzuru shrugged. "Something like that."

"That's amazing! You know tickets for her concerts sell out super-fast, right? If you're over here dispensing her music for free, you'll gonna have people pouring in like crazy! You might actually make a profit for once!" He leaned in and whispered conspiringly, "Hey, since I'm your best buddy, reserve a seat for me when this happens, alright?"

He pushed his friend back. "You make me sound like I'm just using her to make money."

Hinata glanced back innocently. "Well, aren't you?"

He scowled. "No. In fact, I'm doing this as a favor. Not as a publicity stunt."

"A favor, huh? Well . . ." Hinata took another sip of his coffee. "If the favor also happens to make you money, then that's pretty good too, isn't it?"

"She only comes by in the evening when no one else is around, so I highly doubt that people will be drawn in from her playing."

"Really? Well, that's too bad. Maybe you should ask her to change her schedule."

Yuzuru sighed. "Look, I don't care about the potential for profit. I'm just trying to help a friend here."

"Is that so? In that case . . ." Hinata gulped down the rest of his drink and slammed the cup onto the counter. "I better do my job as a friend and hook you up with Yui!"

The baseball player froze in the midst of getting up. "Wait. That came out wrong."

Yuzuru just barely resisted the urge to facepalm.

xxx

The door to his shop slammed open.

Now, Yuzuru was used to the door being slammed open by a certain purple-haired customer, so when he saw a mop of pink hair walk in instead, he was briefly confused.

"So, I hear you needed my help did ya?"

Oh. Right.

"Hey, Yui," he said with a smile. "I'm Yuzuru. Hope you don't mind doing a favor for someone you don't really know."

Yui waltzed up to the counter "Ah, don't worry about it. The keyboard was just collecting dust in the storage room anyway." She plopped herself down with a mischievous grin. "So, this is where Hinata goes whenever he needs comforting?"

She stuck her head forward, causing him to reflexively take a step back.

Her eyes peered into his own intensely.

"I don't know what charms you used to bewitch Hinata to come running to you for help . . ." She poked him in the chest with a finger. "But I won't lose to you!"

"It's not like that!"

The door slammed open again (he really should reinforce it before it broke), and Hinata stood there, panting for breath as he cradled an electronic keyboard under one arm and held a stand in the other.

Yui glared at him with a huff. "Oh yeah? Then just what is it, then?"

Hinata chuckled nervously as he trudged inside with his burden. "I just come here sometimes to ask Yuzuru for advice. That's all!"

As she looked at him skeptically, Yuzuru stepped forward to relieve the exhausted man of his burdens.

"Then why didn't you come to me for advice? I'm great at dispensing advice!" she said with a pout.

Hinata's smile froze on his face. "Well . . . some things . . . you just gotta talk about with another guy, you know?"

The baseball player tactfully refrained from mentioning what exactly he usually asked the barista for help with.

"That's just crazy talk!"

As the two of them bickered back and forth, Yuzuru set up the keyboard near the back of the shop. He was thankful for how easy it was; all he had to do was unfold the stand, set the keyboard on top, and plug it into an outlet.

He turned the keyboard on and played a few notes at random.

They were barely audible over the sound of the bickering in the background, but the notes sounded fine to him.

It would do.

He turned back to the other two people in his shop.

"Gah! You're gonna snap my neck, you crazy witch!"

"Serves you right for seeing a boy in secret!"

He blinked at the scene in front of him. For some reason, Yui was sitting on Hinata's back, straddling him. She was pulling back on his head with both hands while he clutched at the ground with his hands.

"Owowowowow okay how about this I'll invite you to come along whenever I come here I'll even treat you to coffee just let go please FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!"

Yui let go.

Hinata's head snapped forward and hit the ground with a crack.

Yuzuru inwardly winced at the sight.

The perpetrator of the unconscious body on the ground rose and strutted back towards the counter with a smug expression, uncaring of the destruction she had just wrought.

"Wow, there's so many different types of coffee! They all sound so fancy!"

Yui was looking over the menu with a hint of childlike wonder. Her eyes darted from one item to another, unable to decide on one.

"I can help you pick one out if you like," Yuzuru said. "But, uh . . ." He gestured towards the limp body on the ground. "Is he going to be okay?"

"Huh? Oh, him." She waved towards her boyfriend dismissively. "He's a tough cookie! He's survived worse."

"I . . . see . . ."

Yuzuru really didn't want to know what she meant by "worse."

"Hey, this drink sounds pretty cool! One Caramel Frappuccino please!" She pointed at the item in question.

"A good choice if you have a sweet tooth," he replied.

"Hah, I knew it would be sweet! Anything with caramel in it has got to be sweet!"

He chuckled at her exuberant behavior. "Well, since you're letting me borrow your keyboard, how about I give you a discount on anything you purchase here? I'd feel bad if I didn't offer anything in return."

Her eyes lit up. "Discounts? Sweeeeeeeet!" She turned around. "Hear that, Hinata? I'm getting discounts at your favorite coffee shop!"

A muffled groan was the only response.

She turned back with a grin. "See, he's excited too!"

Yuzuru laughed at the couple's antics. There was just something endearing about the way the two interacted with each other.

And if Yui really was going to come with Hinata whenever he visited, well . . .

He had a feeling his shop would be a lot livelier in the future.