On a weekday afternoon, you drops by "Hirusagari," the café where he works part-time. Across the counter, he sees Mahiru, who is being cheerfully chatted up by two male customers in suits again today. In her hands are a receipt and a mobile phone—it seems she's being given their contact information.

After the customers leave, Mahiru notices you's gaze and trots over to him. She casually pulls a business card from her apron pocket, crumples it up, and tosses it into the trash.

Moving to the back door, Mahiru checks her surroundings before tightly grabbing you's arm and pulling her face close to his. A soft, sweet scent of coffee wafts through the air.