Ryo stepped into the café, the soft jingle of the doorbell barely registering as he walked inside. The comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, and he sighed in relief. He needed this—peace, quiet, and a chance to focus. Today, he wanted to be left alone, to work without being noticed. This wasn't his usual spot, but it would do. A place to blend in.
He found a small corner table by the window, set down his bag, and pulled out his laptop. The screen flickered to life as he began to draft the script for his next stream. It was easier this way—writing felt more controlled than talking to people in real life. He could choose his words carefully, could hide behind the screen without anyone judging him.
After a moment of settling in, he ordered a simple black coffee—nothing fancy, just a straight-up caffeine fix—and waited for it to arrive. The café was quiet, the soft hum of jazz filling the background, and that suited him just fine.
But of course, just as he was about to get into a rhythm, something caught his attention.
From across the room, a loud thud followed by a startled squeak broke the otherwise peaceful atmosphere. Ryo looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly.
At one of the tables near the back, a girl—no, a walking disaster—was having a fierce battle against a welcome mat. She yanked her foot free with an exaggerated huff and hurried inside, looking flustered and embarrassed. Her cheeks flushed a bright red as she fumbled with her bag, muttering to herself as she shuffled past him, oblivious to everything around her.
He rolled his eyes. Perfect.
She seemed to have an unfortunate knack for stumbling, because as she made her way to a nearby table, she tripped over her own feet. But somehow, she caught herself at the last second, avoiding a full-on faceplant. It was like watching a slow-motion accident—but at least she wasn't hurt. Just mortified.
Ryo couldn't help but think she was a bit of a handful. This is why he preferred to stay alone.
He sighed, turning his attention back to his work. But it wasn't long before her muttering broke his focus.
"Ugh, why is writing so hard today?" she sighed under her breath, frustration lacing her voice. "Maybe I just need a break... or a new notebook..."
Ryo glanced up from his screen. There she was, still sitting at her table, scribbling in a notebook like her life depended on it. The more he watched her, the more it was like she was taking up all the space in the café with her chaotic energy. Empty tables surrounded her, yet somehow, she seemed to command the entire room.
He let out an exaggerated sigh, his patience wearing thin. What was it with people today?
He tried to get back to his work, fingers tapping over the keys, but her quiet muttering continued to invade his concentration.
"Ugh, this isn't going anywhere," she mumbled. "I swear, I just need to finish something."
Ryo shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. She was clearly frustrated, but the constant noise was starting to get to him. It wasn't like he could just ask her to keep it down, though. He wasn't that kind of person. So, instead, he leaned back in his chair, letting the sound of her voice and the clatter of her pen against the notebook fill the quiet space.
Then, just as he was about to give up on any chance of peace, she did something that made him freeze.
She raised her hand to her forehead dramatically, letting out a long, exasperated sigh. "Okay, Haruka. Focus. You can do this."
"Haruka?"
Ryo's fingers froze on his laptop's keyboard. The name caught his attention, almost like an accidental eavesdrop, but there was something about the way she said it—like a pep talk to herself. It was strangely relatable, and for a second, he didn't know why, but he felt an odd connection to that moment. No. That's ridiculous.
He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. This was absurd. He didn't care about her. He didn't even know her. So why did her little speech to herself feel so familiar?
Determined to shake it off, he grabbed his bag and stood up, ready to leave. He was done. The peace he was searching for was clearly not in this café today. But just as he reached the door, something made him pause.
She wasn't just scribbling anymore. No, now she was holding her pen like a microphone, speaking to it with mock seriousness. "Okay, Haruka. This is the one. This is going to be the novel of a lifetime. Or at least—at least it'll be a novel."
Ryo blinked. Was she really talking to herself like that? Holding a pen like a microphone, performing some strange monologue about her own writing? He stared at her for a moment, his mind swirling with confusion and a little bit of amusement. What the hell was this?
His hand was still on the door handle as he watched her ramble on, completely oblivious to the fact that he was standing there, staring at her. It was like watching a trainwreck that you couldn't look away from.
Without thinking, Ryo stepped outside, pushing the door open and letting it close softly behind him. But as he walked down the street, his thoughts lingered on the girl.
The girl who couldn't even walk into a café without causing a scene. The one who seemed so caught up in her chaotic little world that she didn't even realize how ridiculous she looked.
Honestly, she was a mess. But for some reason, Ryo couldn't stop thinking about her. That strange pep talk, the ridiculous pen microphone, the way she completely lost herself in her thoughts—it was all so… weirdly fascinating.
Whatever, he told himself, adjusting the hood on his jacket. She's just some random person. Who cares?
But even as the thoughts swirled in his mind, he couldn't shake the image of her sitting there, talking to her pen like it was a microphone, lost in her own chaotic world.
And for reasons he couldn't quite explain, he couldn't stop thinking about her.