"She totally did that on purpose..."
Even though Kikukawa Yuu was no longer in sight, Kikukawa Kyo was still muttering complaints under her breath. But soon enough, she returned to her usual, polished business smile.
"So, Miss Sakiko, what would you like to drink?" Her tone now carried the smooth cadence of a true bartender, so naturally infused with an almost playful ambiguity that it caught Sakiko off guard.
"You can just talk to me like you did with Miss Yuu earlier. This feels... a little unnatural for me," Sakiko admitted.
"Well, that's my sister—I can afford to be more casual with her."
Kyo blinked, realizing that the only thing she had ever truly known was the warmth of her family's affection. That solid, unwavering bond allowed her to act freely, without fear of ruining the relationship.
But what about her relationship with Sakiko?
Were they friends? That word was so vague. It could refer to anything from someone you just met but could strike up a conversation with, to a lifelong companion who stood by you through the years.
Kyo did like Sakiko, but she had no idea what Sakiko thought of her. Until she figured that out, maybe it was safer to keep things light—either joking around as she usually did or adopting the professional detachment of a bartender.
Like they say, the more you say, the more mistakes you make. Kyo didn't want to ruin a relationship before it had even properly begun.
"But we did sign a contract, didn't we? I think you can afford to relax a little," Sakiko said with a small smile.
A contract...
Kyo blinked. She hadn't expected that. A contract—now that was much neater than "friendship." Clear terms, well-defined conditions, no need to overthink emotions—just the simple fulfillment of mutual interests.
Somehow, that way of framing it actually put Kyo at ease.
"A contract, huh… Sakiko, are you secretly a bit of a chūnibyō?" she teased.
"..."
"Ahem. So, what would you like to drink?" Kyo cleared her throat, hastily steering the conversation in another direction.
"Sprite."
"Ugh—" Kyo leaned back dramatically. "Is this payback? Or are you serious?"
"Both," Sakiko replied flatly. She was taking her arrangement with Kyo seriously, but to be dismissed as "chūnibyō" of all things… well, fine. Maybe she did think the word "contract" sounded cool. But that didn't mean she was some delusional teenager! …Even if it was cool.
"I've actually never tried Sprite before. I'm a little curious."
Ah. Of course. A rich girl thing.
Kyo wisely kept that thought to herself. Given Sakiko's reaction to anything related to her past as a Togawa heiress, it was clear she didn't like being reminded of it.
"It's basically just sugar and carbonation."
"So… not very good?" Sakiko asked, intrigued.
"Not necessarily. It's a simple, affordable kind of happiness—you can get that refreshing first sip for just 120 yen. I drink it all the time. Especially that very first mouthful, when the carbonation is at its peak—it hits your tongue and sends a little shiver down your spine."
But then, as if to assert her principles, Kyo quickly added:
"However! We are at the bar. The bar! Anyone ordering a pre-packaged drink should be apologizing to every single tool and ingredient on this counter!"
Sakiko, watching Kyo cross her arms and pout in mock indignation, found herself thoroughly amused. Serves her right for calling her chūnibyō.
"Ang↑, you are just messing with me, aren't you?" Kyo accused, seeing through her amusement.
Sakiko simply smiled. Today, she'd probably laughed more than she had in the past several days combined.
Maybe it's just because I finally found a job.
"Then, Kyo, just make me any drink you like. Tea, coffee—anything is fine."
"Ah, there it is… my second least favorite type of order."
Kikukawa Kyo tapped her fingers on the table in mild frustration, pretending to think deeply. But it didn't take long before an idea struck her.
"Sakiko, you said you were curious about the taste of Sprite, right?"
"That's right."
Kyo clapped her hands together, decision made. "Then I'll make you a Mojito! It uses fresh lime as a key ingredient, and the flavor is actually quite similar to Sprite. But compared to Sprite's sharp fizziness, a Mojito is more refreshing and better suited for cooling off in hot weather."
"I've heard of Mojitos before, but… isn't that a cocktail? We're still underage." Sakiko wasn't shy about admitting her lack of knowledge when it came to unfamiliar territory.
"The classic Mojito does include a bit of rum. The combination of rum's bold intensity with lime's crisp freshness creates an interplay of heat and coolness, a balance between passion and intrigue—"
As Kyo explained, a familiar spark of enthusiasm lit up her face. It was the same look she had whenever she talked about mixology with genuine love.
"But unfortunately, we are underage, so we won't get to taste the real thing today," she said with a playful sigh.
"Still, don't worry! Even without rum, the flavor is definitely worth trying."
With a mischievous wink, Kyo turned on her heel and headed toward the storage room. Sakiko watched as her pearl-gray ponytail bounced behind her, swinging in rhythm with her light steps, as if it too was buzzing with excitement.
Even though Kyo was the same age as her—both fresh out of middle school—she somehow looked more mature in that bartender's outfit.
Maybe once I've saved up some money, I could buy an outfit that makes me look a bit more grown-up, too…
Sakiko's gaze followed Kyo until she disappeared into the storage room, the sound of low-heeled leather shoes tapping crisply against the floor lingering in her ears.
Today, Kyo felt more approachable than ever. In fact, spending time with her over these past few days had been the most relaxing thing for Sakiko since she arrived here.
"Haah…"
Sakiko let out a soft sigh.
But no matter how comfortable their interactions felt, there was still a thorn lodged deep in her heart—one she couldn't ignore.
She had no idea how she was supposed to repay Kyo for everything she had done for her.
Ever since coming to this café, watching Kyo passionately discuss mixology—or perhaps more accurately, her deep love for water itself—Sakiko had found herself revisiting an old doubt:
Kyo possessed an almost masterful level of skill. Even without considering cocktails, the pu-erh tea she had brewed for Sakiko the other day was enough to prove it.
And yet, even someone like Kyo—who clearly had an exceptional understanding of drinks—was intrigued by this so-called "special water source" Sakiko was supposed to find.
Could she really create something like that?
That contract… it was just a convenient excuse, wasn't it?
The more Sakiko thought about it, the more convinced she became that Kyo had only made that offer to give her a reason to accept help. The task itself was so vague, so loosely defined, that no matter what doubts Sakiko raised, Kyo could easily counter them with some equally ambiguous, yet seemingly logical explanation.
Several days had passed since then, and Sakiko was no longer as impulsive or emotionally reactive as she had been at the start. She hadn't outright rejected Kyo's help, but—
Today, she had to ask.
She had to find out what Kyo was really thinking.