Wagashi and Algorithms: Reviving Grandma's Legacy with Viral Dreams - The runaway granddaughter returns—Raise your smartphone to the Kyoto sky!

The moment Tsukimi Mizuki stepped through the ticket gate, she stopped. The suitcase wheels rattled, then went quiet. Yanagi-koji Shopping Street. Four kilometers southeast of Kyoto Station, a downtown area sprawling along a small river. A place she'd known since childhood, and yet——something felt different. A rust stain, brown like a blemish, ran across the arcade's roof. About thirty percent of the storefronts had their shutters down. Only elderly men with hunched backs were walking around. No young people anywhere. It felt like a different planet. Even though she'd walked through here every day until two years ago. Tsukimi's head had been swirling with hashtags until just moments before. #KyotoSweets #EstablishedWagashi #CraftsmanshipSkill——Instagram caption candidates had lined up, but they all stopped abruptly in an instant. ……Wow. This is worse than I thought. To be honest, she was a little shocked. She'd spent two years studying marketing and thought she understood the numbers. The vacant storefront rate in the shopping street, the aging population rate, the decline in foot traffic——she'd seen it all in data. But seeing it with her own eyes was completely different. The weight of those numbers was nothing like what she'd imagined. She felt a faint tightness in her throat and took a deep breath. ——But that's exactly why I came back. When she dropped out of university, everyone said it was a waste. Her mom, her teachers, her friends. But Tsukimi had been certain. Learning marketing in a classroom meant nothing compared to saving a real shop. She'd come back here to prove it. She gripped the suitcase handle tight and started walking. The sound of the wheels echoed through the shopping street. No one turned around. --- Standing in front of Tsukimi-an, Tsukimi was silent for three seconds. The sign was tilted to the right. The noren curtain was sun-bleached, the characters for "Tsukimi-an" barely readable anymore. No one stood in front of the shop. Through the glass, she could see the display case, but there were surprisingly few wagashi arranged inside. Founded 110 years ago. A long-established shop that had continued since 1914, and it had come to this…… She gently pulled open the lattice door. From the back, she heard a sound. Ton, ton. A steady rhythm. Quiet, calm, but somehow strong. It was the sound of her grandmother kneading the bean paste. Tsukimi knew it. She'd heard it hundreds of times since childhood. Tsukimi hadn't told anyone she was coming today. It wasn't that she was trying to surprise them——she just couldn't bring herself to say it. She'd told them about dropping out over the phone, but saying something like "I'm coming back to save the shop" felt uncool if she didn't say it face-to-face. While listening to the ton, ton sound coming from the workshop, Tsukimi quietly reached toward the ledger shelf. She pulled out this month's account book. She opened the page——and froze. Income: ¥380,000. Fixed costs: ¥500,000. Difference: -¥120,000. No way. She flipped to the previous page. Last month was also in the red. The month before that too. Three months straight, all losses. Going back to the oldest page, she found entries from the peak period. Customers: 120 people. Next to that number, in her grandmother's meticulous handwriting: "Good sales day." This month's customer count was 16. That gap created a small lump in her throat. Tsukimi quietly returned the ledger to the shelf and took out her phone. ——I came here to change this. --- The first thing she did was photograph the habutae mochi in the display case. Tsukimi-an's signature product. White mochi with translucent bean paste on top. When you ate it, it had a silky texture on your tongue, sweet but with a clean aftertaste. It had been Tsukimi's favorite wagashi since childhood. She held up her phone and took the shot. She checked the screen—— "……What is this?" The words came out involuntarily. It looked absolutely disgusting. Because the workshop's fluorescent lights were old and cast a yellowish glow, the white mochi looked dull and discolored. The bean paste looked like the color of a hospital hallway. "Why!? The real thing tastes amazing!!" Her voice was loud, so she quickly covered her mouth. The ton, ton sound from the workshop didn't change. Her grandmother hadn't heard. Good. Tsukimi shoved her phone in her pocket and dashed toward the 100-yen shop in the shopping street. She was back ten minutes later, carrying an LED light, two white sketch pads, and a bag of bubble wrap. She cut a cardboard box into a U-shape with a cutter, glued the sketch pads to the inside to make a reflector, set up the LED light, placed the habutae mochi inside, and took another shot. She checked it. "Still no good!!" The shadows were in weird places. The right side of the habutae mochi was too bright, the left side pitch black. It looked like a horror photo. She adjusted the LED light angle. This time the light was too strong, and the mochi's surface was blown out. The texture of the bean paste completely disappeared. "Why does the shadow go to a weird place when light hits it!!" She was shouting even though no one was around. She changed the angle and shot again. No good. She changed the height and shot again. No good. She turned the phone sideways and shot again. Even worse. She took about thirty shots and sent them all to the trash. She sighed and looked around the shop blankly. Orange light was streaming in through the lattice window facing the Yanagi River. Evening slant light. ……Ah. Tsukimi picked up the habutae mochi and placed it near the lattice window. She calculated the angle of the light and slowly adjusted the position. She turned off the fluorescent lights, using only the natural light from the window. The moment the evening slant light grazed the surface of the bean paste—— In the screen, the paste glimmered. Like a jewel. "……This is it" Her voice trembled. Her hands trembled too. With shaking hands, she took the shot and checked the screen. It was glowing. Really glowing. The beauty of Tsukimi-an's habutae mochi that Tsukimi knew——it was captured perfectly on the screen. She opened the posting app and typed a caption. "Habutae mochi from a 110-year-old traditional wagashi shop in Kyoto's downtown. Bean paste kneaded by my grandmother using only the warmth of her hands. Please try it." She had three followers. Two university friends and one stranger who'd followed by mistake. Well, whatever. She posted it anyway. --- Her eyes opened to the notification sound before the alarm went off. Beep, beep, beep, beep——ringing continuously without pause. Half-asleep, she looked at the screen. "……Huh?" The follower count showed 2,147. She looked twice. Three times. The number didn't change. She scrolled through the comments. "Where is this shop!?" "I'll definitely go if I'm in Kyoto" "The transparency of this paste is insane" "I want to go this weekend" "Let's go with friends"——they lined up endlessly. Tsukimi kicked off her blanket and jumped out of bed. "For real!?" She ran down the hallway, down the stairs. Nearly tripping over her slippers, she made it to the lattice door and opened it slightly. In the shopping street thirty minutes before opening. Five young women she'd never seen before were lined up in front of Tsukimi-an, looking at their phones. Tsukimi froze, still holding the door. It was a sight she'd never seen in her life. A line in front of Tsukimi-an——at least not since she could remember. Something pounded fiercely in her chest. She was happy. This was huge. But she hadn't told her grandmother yet. But this was proof. But she'd get scolded. But——everything raced through her mind at once. In the end, what Tsukimi did was quietly close the lattice door. She went back upstairs. She sat on her bed, gripping her phone. ——I just need to do today's work today. I can get results before she gets angry. Telling herself this, she started thinking about the next post. That's when she scrolled through the comments one more time. "I want to go!" "This is crazy" "So cute"——and among them, one comment that was slightly different from the rest. "Interesting presentation. Your use of light on the paste is skillful." It was short. But somehow——precise. All the other comments were "cute," "want to eat," "want to go," but this one was about the photo's "technique." The account name was @wagashi_lover. Tsukimi read that comment again. ……Something about it caught her attention. Not in a romantic way at all. Just——something about it felt a little interesting. --- That night. Tsukimi was in her second-floor room, clutching her phone and scrolling through the comments endlessly. "I want to go!" "Can I make it this weekend?" "I'm definitely going with friends"——so many people now knew about Tsukimi-an. Tsukimi's cheeks naturally relaxed. A small laugh escaped her. Huh. Huhuh…… She was grinning. She knew it. But she couldn't stop. The walls of her room were covered with sticky notes. "1000 followers → 30 more customers," "TikTok video → differentiate with manufacturing process," "consider delivery service partnership"——about fifty ideas she'd thought up over the two years since dropping out of university were lined up. These sticky notes were more of her real education than any marketing textbook. "Mizuki." A low, quiet voice. Tsukimi's back went rigid. She slowly turned around. In the darkness of the doorway stood a small silhouette. White hair tied back with a single thin hairpin. Wearing an apron. A small elderly woman——Tsukimi Ohana, 85 years old. Tsukimi's grandmother. Arms crossed, looking at her. Pale purple eyes, clearly visible even in the darkness. Not smiling. She was only about 155 centimeters tall, but there was a strange weight to her presence. The quiet strength of someone who'd been kneading bean paste since early morning for decades. "……Welcome home, Grandma" Her voice cracked. "You're home late" Grandmother's voice was low, quiet, and it was impossible to tell if she was angry or exasperated. "So." A pause. "What were you doing with that phone?" Tsukimi's mouth opened and closed silently.

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Episode 1

Name: Wagashi and Algorithms: Reviving Grandma's Legacy with Viral Dreams
Author: Novelia

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