The, enclosed, beach is silent. The bright ball blinds Aoi as it emerges; it rises like a yellow lollipop on the distant horizon. Crashing against the shore, small waves wash the night's debris onto the land. The untouched golden sand covers the floor as far as Aoi's eyes can see. Soothing, a gentle sea breeze rustles through his hair.

Beach shops prepare for their day of excited costumers bustling in and out of their small seafront shops. Opening their doors, they bring out all of there beach products looking out to the sea you can see the large cruise ships on the worlds edge.

Abandoned, nothing there apart from a few sea gulls pecking at the rubbish left by yesterday's visitors. Empty crisp wrappers, chocolate wrappers, ice cream papers and half eaten cones scatter the yellow sand.

Young children stumble onto the moist sand, with small buckets and spades in their hands, they shout and talk in excitement. Damp sand is forced between their toes. 

" Let's open!" Satomi says not trying to scare Aoi. She stands behind him and wraps her arms around him.

" Okay, let's open!" He says as he takes one last glance at the beautiful beach before opening the shop. They both go inside and flip the sign to open. Jirou, Haru, and Noburu come inside at the same time. Which rarely happen.

"What happened?! Who died!?" Aoi asks questionably, trying to figure out why they arrived at the same time.

" Remember, a costumer wanted a special order." Jirou says.

" We need to work together to get it done." Satomi adds. Everyone nods and gets to work.

Some nights the aroma of a baking cake would bring Aoi and Noburu back to consciousness. Satomi and Jirou would never wake them with the noise of a mixer, everything he did was with ninja stealth, all hand-mixed. It was how they relaxed; some folks soak in a lavender bath, others take a walk in nature or loose themselves in a book. Satomi and Jirou baked cakes. When their work stress was at their worst then was finding homes for cakes every morning. Each one of them was gratefully received.

If anyone knew how to bake a cake it was Satomi; she made the most special birthday cakes of anyone around town. From her run down house, from inside the graffiti adorned walls, she made cakes fit for royalty. For Satomi the "royalty" were the kids of her estate, the ones growing up on food-stamps and love.

By the time the costumer came the cake was done. It was a stunning ombré rosette cake with layers of red velvet sponge and then sprinkled with pink sugar dust. The customer was more than satisfied.