Three in the afternoon. Akatsuki Coffee was enveloped in its usual quiet bustle today. Inside the old wooden shop, polished wooden tables and chairs were lined up, and a large pendulum clock that had been used since the previous generation stood against the wall. From behind the counter, the sound of grinding coffee beans echoed, and a fragrant aroma drifted throughout the shop. Sunlight streamed in through the red signboard at the entrance. At a window-side seat, a regular customer was reading a newspaper, while at a back table, young female customers were chatting in hushed tones.