From that day on, Mio had been visiting Mizukagami almost every week. At first she came with swollen eyes to drink coffee, then as an ordinary customer, and then she exchanged a few words with Akio before leaving. As this pattern repeated, mid-July arrived. After the rainy season ended, the summer air shimmered across the surface of Kasumi Pond, and the cherry trees visible from the window seats of Mizukagami had turned a deep green. Every time Mio sat at the counter, she stared intently at the coffee Akio brewed. Last week it was Brazilian. The week before that, Mandheling. Today it was Brazilian again, but slightly darker roasted than last time, with a sharper bitterness. Without being asked, he changed the bean origins, and each time it was subtly different. Mio thought "maybe it's just my imagination," but she was beginning to realize it wasn't. (This person changes it every time. Why?) She couldn't ask. Somehow, it felt like she shouldn't. That Saturday afternoon, during a quiet moment when customers had thinned out, Mio sat at the counter with both hands wrapped around her cup, looking down slightly. "[whispers]Um... I was wondering if I could work here..." Akio didn't stop organizing the coffee bags on the shelf. "[whispers]But I always cause trouble for people, so... if you don't want me to, that's totally fine..." Her words dripped with self-denial. The kind of phrasing where you create an escape route before being rejected. Akio pushed one bag to the back of the shelf, then turned around. He looked at Mio silently for about five seconds. "[serious]Want to work here?" That was all. There was no interview. No explanation of a trial period. Akio pulled the notepad from the corner of the counter and wrote in black pen: "Hourly wage ¥980 · Wed/Fri/Sat · 3:00 PM–7:00 PM," then slid it toward Mio. "[surprised]Really? We're deciding just like this?" "[serious]This isn't much of a shop anyway." There was no edge to his voice. He simply stated it as obvious fact, then turned back toward the shelf. His back radiated not a shred of hesitation about rejecting her. Mio stared at the memo, then bowed her head slightly. "[gentle]...Thank you very much." --- The following Wednesday, 3:00 PM. The shore of Kasumi Pond was sweltering, and when Mio entered Mizukagami, the cool air inside touched her skin. The brass bell chimed, and Akio turned around. Mio came in saying quietly, "I'm here." "[serious]Right on time. The apron's in the drawer under the shelf." When Mio opened the drawer, a navy apron lay folded inside. She took it out, unfolded it, pulled it over her head, and tried to tie the strings in back. ——It wouldn't work. The strings were old. The fabric was slippery, and no matter how many times she tied them, they came undone. On the first try, the second try, Mio furrowed her brow, and on the third attempt, she felt a presence behind her. "[serious]Let me." A short word. As Mio started to turn around, Akio stood at her back. The distance was close. His fingers quietly took the strings from her hands. Silence. He pulled, crossed them, and tied them firmly. It took less than ten seconds. But during those ten seconds, Mio lost her breathing rhythm once. The presence behind her was larger than she'd expected. The moment Akio's fingers touched her back, tension entered her shoulders——and she immediately felt embarrassed about noticing it. "[serious]These strings come undone easily, so it helps to pull tight at first." With just that, Akio stepped away. Mio kept her hand on the knot for a while, not moving. Behind the counter, Tomoko brought a cup to her lips without saying anything. By the window, Takumi read his paperback novel. Mizukagami's afternoon continued as if nothing had happened. (What was that?) Mio removed her fingers from the knot and took a deep breath. --- The instruction on her first day of work was, above all, matter-of-fact. Akio demonstrated how to hold a cup, the angle of the saucer, the angle at which to place it on the table, the timing for clearing dishes. His explanations were brief. "Like this." "If this is off, it looks sloppy." "Watch the customer's face for timing."——That was all. Mio took notes and made several mistakes. She fumbled with the coffee bean scoop and spilled beans spectacularly beside the scale. The dry sound of *karakara-kara* echoed through the shop. Tomoko let out an "Oh my." From the window, Takumi looked up with his paperback half-turned, and without a word, slid a paper napkin toward Mio. As Mio began gathering the beans saying "Thank you so much...," Akio crouched down and started picking them up with her. He wasn't angry. He didn't sigh. While picking up beans one by one, he simply said, "These are wasted, so it's better not to use them." "[sad]I-I'm sorry... You're not mad?" Akio paused as if thinking, then answered while standing up. "[serious]No reason to be mad. It's your first time." He said it as if it were obvious. It was such a small thing, but Mio's eyes stung. She remembered her previous part-time jobs——convenience store, izakaya, short-term event staff——and how she'd watched people's faces every time she made a mistake, apologized, and felt their gazes on her back saying "do better next time." She'd thought that was normal. So this is what it's like to have someone give you time to try again, Mio thought. --- Just after 4:00 PM, the entrance bell chimed. Mio turned to see a male customer in his forties entering. She'd never seen him before. Gray polo shirt, tan lines on his neck, good build, confident gait. He sat by the window and ordered a blend. When Mio brought the coffee, the man called out, "You're new, aren't you?" "[gentle]I started today." Mio answered with a smile. "College student?" "[gentle]Yes." "Where?" "Um..." As Mio hesitated, the man leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice. "When you're done today, want to hang out? Grab some food?" He was smiling. There was pressure. Mio kept her smile while her mind searched for words. How to refuse. How to say it without hurting him. But the words wouldn't come, and only her mouth kept smiling——the usual pattern. A voice came from behind the counter. "[cold]Customer, we'll be closing up soon, so if you have any orders, please place them quickly." It was a quiet voice. But it left no room for negotiation. Akio, who had been measuring beans, wasn't looking this way. He didn't turn around. He simply said that much across the counter. The man froze for a moment. Then he gave a wry smile and pulled out his phone. Ten minutes later, he finished his coffee, paid, and left. The entrance bell chimed, and quiet returned. Mio approached the counter and spoke in a small voice. "[whispers]...Thank you." Akio wiped the counter with a cloth and replied curtly. "[serious]It's my job." That was all. Mio looked at his back for a while. The words "it's my job." That was probably true. For Akio, quietly helping a part-timer being hit on by a customer might just be part of running the shop. Something to do regardless of emotion, something obvious. But. Mio had rarely felt protected by anyone before. Three people had told her they liked her. But she'd never felt protected. She realized today for the first time that affection and being protected were different things. Her chest grew warm from deep inside. By the window, Tomoko set down her cup without saying anything. Just her mouth relaxed slightly. --- After closing, the two of them cleaned up together. Akio wiped the counter while Mio washed dishes. When he stopped the record, only the sound of insects from Kasumi Pond remained in the shop. Standing at the sink, Mio suddenly asked something she'd been curious about. "[gentle]What did you do before opening this place, Akio?" Akio answered without hesitation while organizing coffee bags on the shelf. "[serious]Worked at an IT company." "[surprised]That's completely different." "[serious]Yeah." Akio took out a bag labeled with the Takane Coffee Farm and pushed it to the back of the shelf while continuing. He mentioned that beans he'd ordered were arriving next week. A farm in Nagano run by a former colleague. How he goes there twice a year to select beans directly. "[gentle]This building used to be a boathouse, right?" "[serious]Yeah. I renovated it myself. After I quit the company." "[serious]The first year, there were days with zero customers." His tone was matter-of-fact. Not bragging, not complaining, just stating facts. "[surprised]Really? Zero? In a whole day?" "[serious]I'd open, nobody would come, and I'd close. That happened several days in a row." Mio rinsed a cup and wiped it with a cloth, unable to say anything more. The question "Why did you quit the company?" rose to her throat——but stopped. It felt like the words "various reasons" were coming. And it felt like something she shouldn't ask was hidden in those "various reasons." There was no basis for it. But that's how it felt. Akio finished organizing the bags and moved the small potted coffee plant that sat by the window slightly, then watered it. The glossy green leaves caught the evening light and gleamed softly. Watching his movements, Mio thought. (This person's time comes from somewhere I don't know.) It wasn't about the seventeen-year age difference or anything like that. It was just that the amount of time Akio had lived through to stand here felt beyond her imagination. At twenty, Mio couldn't yet understand that weight. And somehow——that felt a little sad. --- After 9:00 PM, Mio climbed the stairs of Corpo Hibari and reached her room. She showered, lay down on her bed, and turned on her phone screen. Three badges were waiting. First message. From a circle senior. "Let's go to the summer festival together~!" Second message. From a boy in her seminar. "I want to go to the summer festival with you, Mio." Third message. From a senior in another department. "Summer festival?" Mio stared at the screen. Three or four seconds. Then she turned the phone face-down. Sank into the bed. Looked at the ceiling. The sensation of tying the apron strings returned to her mind. The certainty of Akio's fingers. The words "it's my job." That back, not turning around, but seeing everything. (No, that's not it.) Mio closed her eyes. She tried to dismiss it. But the more she tried, the clearer the air of Mizukagami became. The aroma of coffee, quiet jazz, the light of dusk on the pond. That place alone felt like time flowed differently. Three messages still waited on the other side of her phone.