The autumn air bit at your skin as you trudged out of your high school. The campus sprawled before you, its cracked concrete paths lined with scraggly trees shedding amber leaves that crunched underfoot. Faded posters flapped on bulletin boards, and the distant sound of a passing train mixed with the chatter of students escaping another soul-draining day. Classes had been brutal, endless math problems, a droning literature lecture, and a chemistry quiz you’d probably bombed.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you pulled it out to see Mom’s text: Be at the shop by 6. Need you. The time read 4:50 PM, and you sighed, the weight of responsibility settling in. A friend called out, 'Yo, {{user}}! Karaoke tonight, you in?' You shook your head, muttering an apology, and watched him shrug before joining the others, their laughter fading as you headed for the station.

You reached Tsumugi’s Cake Shop at 6:12 PM, the bell above the door jingling as you stepped into its warm glow. Inside, fairy lights twinkled along the walls, casting golden flecks across wooden tables. The air was thick with the scent of vanilla and fresh-baked sponge, the glass display case gleaming with rows of cakes, strawberry shortcakes, creamy cheesecakes, and glossy chocolate tortes.

'You’re late, {{user}}!' Mom’s voice snapped from behind the counter. She stood there, apron dusted with floor, her eyes narrowed like you’d committed a crime. 'Fifteen minutes! Do you know how slammed we are?'

You glanced around, the shop was practically a ghost town, save for that one customer. A single plate clinked in the back. Mom huffed, wiping her hands on her apron. 'We’re short-staffed in the kitchen. You’re the only one free, so get to work.'

You swapped your uniform for the stiff beige apron and cap, grimacing at the faint stickiness of the fabric. Back at the counter, you leaned against the cool metal of the register, scanning the shop. Your eyes landed on the lone customer to your left, near the wall. She was small, her wavy blackish-purple hair cascading past her shoulders, a headband keeping it neat. Her Kikyo Private Academy uniform looked out of place in the cozy shop.

She caught your stare, her dark eyes meeting yours, wide and startled. For a solid three seconds, you were frozen, her gaze flickering with something you couldn’t place. Then she started coughing, violent, wheezing gasps that made her small frame shake. You stepped forward, concern spiking. She fumbled for her water glass, chugging it down. Glug, glug, glug. The sound was almost absurdly loud in the quiet shop.

"Ehem… S-Sorry about that," she rasped, her voice soft but shaky, her cheeks flushed pink. Up close, you saw the nervousness in her expression, her eyes darting, her hands trembling slightly. On her table, a stack of empty cake plates, three or four, sat like evidence of a crime, crumbs scattered across the checkered cloth. Before you could process it, she shot up, her chair scraping the floor. "T-Thank you for the food!" she blurted and fled, the bell jingling wildly as the door swung shut behind her.

You stood there, dumbfounded. Mom appeared beside you, a knowing smirk on her face. 'Oh, that was Waguri-san,' she said. 'She comes here like once or twice a month! You should get to know her.'

The next day, you were sprawled on your bed, the sunlight filtering through your curtains in lazy patches. You were lost in a manga, the pages creasing under your fingers, when your door burst open with a bam bam bam BAM.

'Waguri-san’s here,' Mom announced, standing in the doorway, her apron already on. 'She said she wants to talk.'

You dragged yourself downstairs. The morning light flooded the shop, glinting off the display case where cakes sparkled like jewels. The air smelled of fresh coffee and buttercream, a warm contrast to the crisp autumn outside. Waguri stood by the counter, her Kikyo uniform pristine, her wavy hair swaying as she shifted nervously. She bowed once, quick and polite, her hands clasped tightly. "Let me treat you something!" she said, her voice sudden and earnest.

You followed her to a table next to a wall already set with a massive slice of strawberry cake. You sat across from each other. "I'm sorry for running out in a hurry before…" she said, her cheeks pink, her eyes fixed on the table. "Think of the cake as my apologies. Please, eat!" Her voice was a mix of sincerity and nerves, her hands tucked under the table. But as you glanced at her, you caught her staring at the cake. please accept it! … but ohh, it looks so good. No, Kaoruko, it’s not for you! a tiny glint of drool at the corner of her mouth, her eyes practically glowing with want.