After his rooftop talk with Leo and the end of today's classes, Timeo decided to visit a different district before returning to Sombra Café in Himorashi. Instead of heading straight back, he opened his phone, checked his navigation app, and looked for nearby areas worth exploring.
He settled on Yamabuki, a small district not far from Aokusa. It was only a few bus stops away, and since the buses in Tsukihara City ran regularly, he didn't have to worry about getting back late.
The ride was short. When Timeo stepped off the bus, he found himself in a lively little area. Despite its size, Yamabuki had a strong local atmosphere. The streets were narrow but clean, with soft chatter from nearby shops and the sound of bikes passing by. Signs swung gently in the breeze, and the scent of food lingered in the air.
Even for a small place, Yamabuki had a surprising number of shops. There was Maruyoshi Mart, a small grocery store with handwritten signs and crates of vegetables stacked outside. Tetsu Bar stood tucked between two buildings, its red lantern glowing faintly in the shade. Hanaura Hair was a clean and stylish hair salon, where the staff wore matching aprons and chatted cheerfully through the open windows.
There was also Kodama Books, a tiny bookstore filled with tall wooden shelves and the smell of old paper. Not far from it, Sasameya Café offered handmade sweets and green tea, with flower pots lined outside its door. Rokurou Ramen buzzed with life, steam fogging up its windows as people slurped noodles on short stools.
For something more unique, there was Tsukikage Antiques—a quiet shop filled with old clocks, strange masks, and forgotten trinkets. Inari Dry Cleaners was just around the corner, with a small fox logo on its glass door and a sharp bell that rang when someone walked in. Finally, Takemi's General Store sold a little bit of everything—snacks, pens, batteries, and even umbrellas piled in a bucket by the entrance.
Yamabuki might have been small, but it had its own heartbeat—its own people, its own stories, and maybe even its own secrets.
Timeo's reason for visiting the Yamabuki District wasn't just to pass time—it was to explore, to find something unique. He wanted to look for interesting items, especially things that could only be found in Japanese shops. Something rare. Something meaningful.
As he strolled through the lively street, his eyes caught the familiar green and orange sign of Maruyoshi Mart, the neighborhood's well-known grocery store. He decided to start there. The place looked small from the outside, but the inside was neatly packed with fresh produce, local snacks, imported teas, and all kinds of daily goods.
Timeo wandered down the aisles until he reached the specialty shelf near the back, where unique imported and regional ingredients were displayed. There, tucked between bags of roasted barley and matcha blends, he spotted what he was hoping to find—Uji Kōhīmame, a rare brand of hand-roasted coffee beans sourced from Uji, Kyoto, known for its soft earthy aroma and rich bitterness. The packaging was simple: a dark brown bag tied with a strip of red string and labeled with calligraphy.
Renjiro, his caretaker, loved making coffee. He treated it almost like an art—grinding the beans by hand, carefully watching the temperature, timing every drip. Just last week, he even mentioned wanting to teach Timeo how to brew it properly. This felt like the perfect gift—thoughtful, quiet, and sincere.
Timeo picked up the bag and smiled faintly to himself. It was a small thing, but it felt right.
"This should be the one Renjiro wanted me to find before I rushed off to school," Timeo muttered under his breath, checking the label again. "Good thing I've still got some money saved after the move to Tsukihara."
Without wasting any more time, he walked toward the counter. The moment he reached the front, he was greeted by a short line—and an overwhelmed cashier. The man behind the register looked like he hadn't blinked in minutes, rapidly scanning items while bags piled up beside him. His apron was slightly wrinkled, and his movements were robotic, but focused.
Timeo stepped into line, coffee in hand, but it didn't take long before the noise began.
"Oi! Can we hurry it up already? I've got frozen stuff melting back here!" shouted a middle-aged woman clutching a basket full of fish and vegetables.
"This always happens during the rush hour. Only one damn register open?" grumbled a man in a suit, checking his watch every ten seconds like it owed him money.
"Can't someone call another worker? I've been standin' here for fifteen minutes, I swear," said a high school girl behind Timeo, sighing loudly and tapping her foot on the floor.
Timeo glanced at the cashier, who was clearly doing his best but couldn't catch up. He considered offering to help for a moment—but instead, he kept quiet, kept calm, and simply waited. He didn't mind standing in line. At least he had what he came for.
He looked down at the bag of Uji Kōhīmame again, fingers brushing over the red string holding it closed.
It would be worth it.
After standing through a good stretch of impatience, background shouting, and the occasional loud sigh, Timeo's turn finally came. He stepped forward to the counter, the bag of coffee in hand.
The man behind the register rubbed his forehead and muttered under his breath. "This is ridiculous… I wish I could afford to hire more help."
He caught himself, then quickly looked up. "Ah—sorry, I'll be right with you," he said, before rushing off to the second register to grab a small scanner that had been acting up earlier. He didn't explain, just moved on instinct, clearly used to multitasking in chaos.
Moments later, he returned, exhaling as he resumed his post. "Alright. Where were we?" he asked, settling back behind the counter.
Timeo quietly placed the bag of coffee on the counter in front of him.
The man gave a short nod, picked it up, scanned the label, and glanced at the screen.
"This'll cost 1,580 yen," he said, setting the bag down gently. "Real good beans, by the way. That brand moves quick when we get it in stock."
Timeo nodded slightly, already digging into his wallet.
Timeo handed over the yen and gave a polite nod as the cashier bagged the coffee. Before turning to leave, he paused and looked at the man.
"You look pretty exhausted," he said quietly, his tone respectful but honest.
The words, though simple, seemed to catch the man off guard. He blinked once, then let out a dry chuckle, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.
"Ah, don't worry about me," he replied. "Just one of those days, y'know? The line's been a mess—people yelling, rushing like it's the end of the world. You saw it yourself."
He gave Timeo a more genuine look now.
"But you... you were calm. Most people aren't. Usually I've got three people screaming at once before I even scan their stuff."
"I heard you mention something about needing to hire more help," Timeo said as he quietly slipped the bag of coffee beans into another tote bag he'd brought, not wanting to carry it openly and draw unnecessary attention. "Do you need someone?"
The man paused for a moment, surprised by the question, but then gave a small, appreciative smile.
"Yeah… I've been trying to," he admitted. "But hiring people costs more than I can manage right now. I didn't have the funds to pay extra staff, not at first."
He leaned slightly on the counter, loosening his shoulders as he spoke more casually.
"Lately, though, I've been doing a bit better. Sales have picked up, especially with the specialty stuff I've been bringing in. Still—" he paused and rubbed the back of his neck, "—I've been running this place by myself since day one."
He looked at Timeo a bit more openly now.
"I'm Haruto Maruyoshi, by the way. I own this little place. It's only been open for two months, but ever since the grand opening, it's just been me behind the counter."
There was a flicker of embarrassment in his eyes, like he felt the need to apologize for not doing more with the store. But there was pride too—quiet, honest effort in every word.
Timeo kept one hand tucked casually in his pocket, the other gripping the bag with the coffee tucked safely inside. He looked at Haruto with a quiet sense of respect. The man had been holding the store together on his own, clearly pushing through exhaustion and financial strain without complaint. Timeo didn't overthink his words—he just spoke plainly.
"I can help out, if you want," he said.
Haruto blinked, caught off guard by the offer. For a second, he just stared at Timeo like he couldn't quite process it. A student—someone that young—offering to help run a store without even asking what he'd get in return. He looked like someone who probably didn't have much job experience, but the sincerity in his voice was unmistakable.
"I—I mean…" Haruto scratched the back of his head, clearly flustered. "I do need help, no lie. It's just—money's tight. I've got bills from the shop, plus family stuff at home. I can't really afford to pay much. Barely anything, to be honest. I wouldn't blame you if that was a dealbreaker."
He gave a nervous chuckle, hoping the honesty wouldn't scare Timeo off. But instead of hesitation, he got an answer that left him stunned.
"I don't mind," Timeo said simply. "I'd like to help. I'm not doing it for the money."
Haruto's eyes widened, the weight of those words hitting harder than expected. He looked at Timeo like he was witnessing something rare—something people didn't offer anymore. A young man with his whole life ahead of him, choosing to lend a hand just because he wanted to.
"You're… serious?" Haruto asked, his voice shaking a little. "Even if I can't pay you much? I… I can't believe it."
Timeo nodded.
Haruto's shoulders dropped in relief, and a wide, grateful smile spread across his face.
"If that's really how you feel, then yes—please. I'd be lucky to have you helping out. And I swear, once the shop's doing better, once we've sold enough… I'll raise your pay. I'll make it worth your time."
And in that moment, Haruto didn't just see a customer—he saw a lifeline.
As Haruto spoke, his voice began to soften in Timeo's ears—not because he wasn't listening, but because something deeper had begun to stir inside him. A quiet stillness settled over the moment, the background sounds of the store fading into a low hum.
Then, without warning, a voice echoed through his mind. Calm, steady, and resonant—it wasn't the same voice from his dream, but something else entirely. Something closer.
"A connection has been made… subtle, yet undeniable."
"A bond not shaped by fate's hand, nor born from duty… but chosen—freely, quietly, with intention."
"Through an act without reward, you have reached across the unseen veil… and something reached back."
"From selfless offering, trust takes root. From sincerity, it draws breath. And from that breath… something ancient stirs."
"This moment marks the beginning of a quiet path—one not lit by glory, but by the warmth of shared burden."
"Step forward. Let the bond grow. For in these small, forgotten places… the soul begins to remember."
The voice faded as gently as it arrived, leaving behind a faint warmth in Timeo's chest. The world resumed around him—the lights above, the movement of customers, Haruto's tired smile still in front of him.
But something had shifted. Quietly, without ceremony, a bond had taken root. And somehow, Timeo knew—this was just the beginning.
To be continued...