In the span of those few hours every week she entered and stayed in the café, she somehow started to feel a sense of belonging and comfort. She liked the atmosphere and the aroma of brewing coffee—it wasn't too strong nor was it too faint, it was just enough to set the ambiance. It was her resting place in between her Saturday social studies and her physics classes.

Sometimes, she wondered why not a lot of people went there, but then she'd be reminded that she prefers less crowded places so the lack of customers during the time she visits worked in her stead.

But right now, it didn't.

One of the things she especially liked staying in the café was her table; she considered it that way since no one really sits on her regular seat whenever she went to the café. Her seat enabled her to get a good view of the café's interior, the other people in it, and the counter. She also grew fond of the comfortable seat and the table that was clearly only fit for one person and that didn't make her seem like a loner or a poor girl who was stood up by her date.

A café with not a lot of customers meant that there were more places to sit, and a businessman just had to take her table.

Her relaxed facial features formed a slight scowl the moment she entered and realized that her table wasn't free today. That meant that she had to trash her 'data gathering' plan for today, and instead continue reading the romance novel she was getting tired of. It was said to be that it was one of the most romantic young adult novels of her time, but all she could see was an inexpressive teenage girl in love with a sparkling vampire only because of his good looks and his power. Heck, the most intimate thing they did was to stare at each other. To think that she was somehow hyped to read it due to the fact that the vampire protagonist is a supernatural being...

She released a glum sigh, as if letting out a small gray storm cloud could brighten up her inner dark, gloomy sky one bit.

The moment her gaze landed on the presence-lacking male fumbling with the espresso machine behind the blonde pierced male manning the cashier, a large grumpy cloud took a temporary leave. She ran her fingers through her wavy hair in a subtle effort to fix whatever mess the hyper spring winds did to her tresses, and stopped midway. What was she getting all conscious for, anyway? It wasn't like he—wait, no—they cared with what their customer looked like or anything.

The bluenet turned and their eyes met; she suddenly started to worry once again if she looked haggard or not. Her fingers weaved through her bangs and pushed away the curls that got in front of her face, and, again, she scolded herself for being so uneasy and unnatural.

"Yes?" the male in the cashier inquired, immediately making her break her gaze with the boy with the hair of the clear summer sky. He fondly smiled at her, like she was someone he knew for years. It was amazingly contagious that she found herself smiling back, even if her somewhat lame excuse of a smile was more like a slight stretch of the lips.

She scanned the menu above the waiter's and the cashier's heads, and she replied in a tone she tried her best to modulate, "Strawberry frappe and apple crepe, please." She winced at how her voice was higher-pitched than it usually was, and she discreetly eyed the waiter, who watched their exchange for a few seconds, blinked, then turned back to his work.

Still grinning like he found something extremely amusing (hopefully, it wasn't her), the male—Nishino, she read from his nameplate—pressed a few buttons on the cash register and the amount appeared on the small screen on top of it. "That'll be 1040 yen~!" he stated cheerily, flashing his shiny white teeth in an open-mouthed grin.

She handed him the amount, somehow entranced by his sparkly smile. She wouldn't be surprised if there's a period of time every day when there would be hoards of girls coming into the café just to experience Nishino's (fan) service.

Tilting his head a bit, he gave her the change and the receipt followed by a "Thank you!" that sounded more like a cheerful song. She smiled—or stretched her lips, whatever—at him one last time before turning away and back into her little seating dilemma.

Her seemingly unimportant predicament was soon solved when she found a table for two at the opposite side of the café, though the view of the outdoors and the counter were not as great and blocked by and thriving indoor plant. From her place, all she could see from that certain waiter was his head—Wait, what?

Head shaking violently, she threw the image of Kuroko's head away from her mind, into her figurative abyss of oblivion. Something was wrong with her lately, and it greatly involved him. Filling her mind with thoughts of going through the chore of finishing reading her so-called romance reference, she grabbed the pocket novel from her bag and flipped open to the page where her intricately-designed metallic bookmark was in.

Something, however, felt unsettling; it felt like she was in a foreign area despite being in the same café. She looked back to the man who sat comfortably in her seat. Eyes narrowing, she inwardly willed him to stand up and leave, but nothing happened after half a minute of her imaginary telekinesis. Once again, a sigh leaving her lips, she turned back helplessly to her copy and continued reading.