The afternoon breeze carried the faint scent of roasted beans and city dust across the open-air balcony of Café Ardent, one of Tokyo's quieter, more exclusive coffee spots. From his corner seat, Hayate Miyazaki gazed out over the street below, fingers idly circling the rim of his cup.
The city felt slower here — a pause between the world's noise.
Until movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention.
A woman had just walked in — chatty, expressive, wearing bright colors that clashed delightfully against the café's muted tones. Her energy didn't belong here, which made it all the more amusing that he recognized her instantly.
Mai.
Rin's best friend.
A smile tugged at the edge of his lips.
"Fancy seeing you here," he said smoothly as he stood and walked toward her table.
Mai froze mid-sip, eyes flicking up. "Oh, sorry, this seat's—"
Then she saw his face.
For three full seconds, she didn't breathe. Then—
"Oh. Oh no."
Her chair screeched as she turned away, covering her face. "Oh shit, it's him," she muttered into her hands. "The man, the myth, the—oh my God, I've seen him on the news!"
Hayate arched a brow, amused. "I wasn't aware I was that terrifying."
Mai peeked through her fingers, blushing furiously. Then, forcing a wobbly smile, she straightened her posture like a soldier about to face trial. "W-welcome, Mr. Miyazaki. May I… help you?"
Hayate chuckled softly. "You already are."
Once she realized he wasn't here to scold her, Mai relaxed — only slightly.
"So," she began, stirring her coffee nervously, "what brings Tokyo's most mysterious billionaire to my humble caffeine corner?"
"I could ask the same," Hayate said. "I didn't expect to see you here. I thought you'd be… wherever chaos lives."
Mai grinned. "Touché. But today, chaos wanted coffee."
"Understandable," Hayate said, taking a seat opposite her. "I hear it's quite an addiction."
Mai gasped dramatically. "Excuse me, are you saying I'm addicted? I only have… maybe five cups a day."
Hayate raised an eyebrow. "That's not reassuring."
She shrugged, unbothered. "It keeps me functional. Like battery power. Or sarcasm."
That earned the faintest smile from him.
For a moment, they simply sipped their drinks, two opposites sharing the same calm air — the composed, unreadable businessman and the warm, talkative best friend.
Then, naturally, the conversation turned to the one person who unknowingly tied them together.
"So," Mai said, tilting her cup toward him, "I'm guessing you've been busy saving the world from technological collapse or something."
"Something like that," Hayate replied smoothly.
"But you still have time to think about a certain someone, don't you?" she teased.
He looked at her evenly. "If you mean Rin, then yes."
Mai smirked. "Called it."
She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands. "She's been doing well, you know. More serious about work. Still burns toast, though. I think she's trying to make her dad proud."
"She always was the type to chase approval she didn't need," Hayate murmured.
Mai blinked, surprised by the quiet accuracy of that statement. Then she smiled gently. "Yeah. You really do know her, huh?"
"I learned to listen," Hayate said.
Mai grinned. "Dangerous skill. She might fall harder if you keep that up."
Hayate chuckled, sipping his coffee. "You make it sound like that's a bad thing."
"Only if you break her heart," Mai warned playfully, pointing her straw at him.
"I'll try not to."
Mai snapped her fingers suddenly. "Oh right! Speaking of Rin — her birthday's this Saturday!"
Hayate looked mildly intrigued. "Saturday?"
"November 28," Mai confirmed proudly. "You didn't forget, did you?"
"I wasn't aware I was supposed to remember."
Mai gasped. "You monster! You saved her from starvation and storms — you have to remember her birthday!"
Hayate chuckled, the sound low and amused. "I see. And what does one usually gift Rin Nishina?"
Mai's face lit up with purpose. "Oh! Let me think. She loves the color sage green. And coffee. And anything that smells like nature — pine, cedar, lavender. She collects seashells, too, though she pretends not to."
Hayate listened, eyes softening slightly with each detail. "Seashells," he repeated.
Mai nodded. "Yep. She says they remind her that even broken things are beautiful."
Something in his gaze flickered — a quiet recognition.
Then he asked, "And you? Have you gotten her anything yet?"
Mai froze, her mouth still open mid-sentence.
Silence.
Then, dramatically, she drooped in her chair like a defeated cartoon character. "Nooooooo," she groaned. "I forgot! I was too busy saving her from evil women and emotional crises!"
Hayate's lips twitched. "The greatest of friends, and yet—no gift?"
Mai shot him a glare. "Don't guilt-trip me, billionaire man."
"I wasn't. I was suggesting a solution."
She squinted. "A solution?"
He smirked. "Why don't we go together tomorrow? You can help me choose a gift for her, and you might find yours, too."
Mai blinked. "Wait, are you saying… a shopping spree with my bestie's mysterious savior?"
"Something like that."
She grinned, blushing faintly. "Oh, fine. But only if you promise not to intimidate the store clerks with your 'rich person aura.'"
"I'll do my best," Hayate said dryly.
Mai lifted her cup like a toast. "Then it's a date. Well, not a date-date, but—you know what I mean."
Hayate chuckled softly. "I do."
They clinked cups, laughter mingling with the scent of roasted coffee and autumn air — two unlikely allies planning a secret surprise for someone who'd unknowingly changed both their lives.
As Mai gathered her things, she looked over her shoulder and grinned. "You know, I think Rin's birthday might be more exciting than she expects."
Hayate's eyes followed the swirl of steam rising from his cup. "I'll make sure of it."
And for a rare moment, the ever-composed Hayate Miyazaki allowed himself a quiet smile — not the one he wore for cameras, but the kind that reached his eyes.
The morning sun slanted across the Miyazaki Tower parking lot as Hayate and Kazehiro's car rolled to a stop in front of the mall.
Kazehiro stretched lazily, sunglasses sliding down his nose. "So, let me get this straight — today, we're going birthday shopping. You, me, and Rin's best friend."
Hayate adjusted his cuffs, unbothered. "That's correct."
Kazehiro gave a low whistle. "You've changed, man. A year ago, you'd have sent an assistant with a credit card."
"I still could," Hayate said calmly. "But this feels… better."
Kazehiro eyed him knowingly. "Yeah, I bet it does."
They parked, and when they stepped out, Mai was already there waiting near the fountain, sipping a caramel latte far too enthusiastically for 10 a.m.
"Good morning!" she chirped, waving. "You're late!"
"It's 10:02," Hayate replied.
"Exactly," she said, grinning.
Kazehiro stifled a laugh. "Oh, she's gonna be fun. Anyway," he said, patting Hayate's shoulder, "I'm gonna go find a way to distract Hana before she hears about your little mall adventure. Call me when you're done."
"Distract her how?" Hayate asked suspiciously.
Kazehiro smirked. "Charm. Coffee. Lies. The usual."
Then he sauntered off before Hayate could argue
"So!" Mai clapped her hands together. "Step one: don't look so serious. You're shopping, not attending a board meeting."
"I'll try to remember that," Hayate replied.
"Good," she said, looping her arm through his as if she'd known him for years. "Now come on, Mr. Calm-and-Composed — we've got a birthday girl to surprise!"
They started walking through the mall, passing stores bursting with holiday decorations. Hayate moved with quiet purpose; Mai bounced beside him, a bundle of energy in a world of marble floors and smooth jazz.
At the first boutique, she held up a floral dress. "What about this? Cute, right?"
Hayate eyed it. "She'd never wear something that bright."
Mai gasped. "You're right. She'd burn it."
Then she spun toward another rack. "Oh! What about a scarf? She likes green tones."
Hayate ran his hand along a soft sage scarf, considering it. "That's… not bad."
"Not bad?" Mai raised an eyebrow. "That's practically a love declaration coming from you."
Hayate chuckled quietly. "You exaggerate."
"Maybe," she teased, "but I can tell you care. It's kind of sweet. In a 'stoic billionaire who pretends he's emotionally unavailable' way."
Hayate shook his head with mild amusement. "You talk too much."
"It's a gift," she said proudly
Half an hour later, they passed a photo booth glowing with neon lights. Mai gasped, grabbing his sleeve.
"Oh! Let's take a photo!"
Hayate blinked. "A photo?"
"Yes! Proof. Rin will never believe I spent the morning shopping with you otherwise."
Before he could object, she dragged him inside.
"Okay," she said, grinning. "On three. One, two—"
He didn't smile.
"Three!"
Click.
Mai glanced at the screen. "No, no, no, that's too serious. Try… softer! Pretend you just saw Rin smile."
Hayate hesitated — then, faintly, the corner of his mouth lifted.
Click.
"Better!" Mai declared.
When the photo strip printed, she burst out laughing. "You look like a model forced into a cute selfie."
He examined it. "It's… tolerable."
"Wow," she said, fanning herself. "A compliment from the Great Hayate Miyazaki. I'll treasure it forever."
Up on the second floor, Rin was wandering through the clothing section of a boutique, absentmindedly flipping through dresses. It was supposed to be a relaxing weekend. Her father had given her a rare day off before her birthday, and she planned to pick out something simple for the small family dinner.
But then she froze.
Down below, through the glass railing, she saw him.
Hayate.
Tall, calm, impossible to miss.
And beside him — laughing, animated, and very much there — was Mai.
Rin's grip on the hanger tightened.
"No way…" she whispered.
Her heartbeat quickened.
She ducked behind a rack of clothes, peeking again. Mai said something and nudged him playfully. Hayate shook his head, smiling — that quiet, rare smile Rin had only ever seen once or twice.
Her chest tightened.
"Why are they— together?" she muttered under her breath. "Shopping?"
She bit her lip. "Maybe… maybe they just ran into each other. Yeah. That's it."
But when Mai held up a green scarf and Hayate nodded, Rin's confidence faltered.
"Okay, Rin," she whispered to herself, pacing behind the clothes rack. "Don't jump to conclusions. They're probably shopping for—"
She froze mid-thought. "No, that doesn't make sense. Why would Hayate go shopping with her?"
She peeked again just in time to see Mai grab Hayate's arm, dragging him toward another shop. He didn't resist.
Rin exhaled sharply, turning away. "Okay, maybe… maybe he's just being polite. Yeah, polite. Hayate's always polite. Especially to my friends. Especially… to Mai."
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Oh, this is bad."
She stood there for another minute, arguing with herself — one side logical, the other wounded.
Then, finally, she sighed and pressed a hand to her chest. "Why does it hurt?"
The question echoed quietly against the polished floor.
She didn't have an answer.
Meanwhile, Mai had her arms full of bags and was still debating options.
"Perfume?" she suggested.
"She doesn't wear much," Hayate replied.
"A bracelet?"
"Maybe."
"Or — wait, candles! She loves scents, right? Like pine or lavender."
Hayate's expression softened slightly. "Yes. She does."
Mai smiled, catching the small change in his tone. "You really do pay attention."
Hayate met her gaze for a moment. "When it comes to her, yes."
Mai grinned. "She'd faint if she heard that."
He smirked faintly. "Then don't tell her."
"Oh, I'm definitely telling her," she teased
From the upper floor, Rin watched them through the railing one last time.
Mai was laughing again, leaning close as she pointed at something in the display window. Hayate stood beside her, calm and attentive, holding the shopping bags.
It was such a simple scene — but for Rin, it felt like watching a chapter she wasn't part of.
Her throat tightened.
"Why does it feel like I don't belong anymore?" she whispered.
A group of teenagers brushed past her, snapping her out of it. She took a deep breath, forcing a smile that no one would see.
"Get it together, Rin," she muttered. "It's fine. It's… fine."
But as she turned and walked toward the exit, her heart refused to believe it.
Downstairs, unaware of Rin's presence, Hayate handed Mai a small bag.
"I think this will do," he said quietly.
Mai peeked inside and smiled. "It's perfect. She'll love it."
"Good," Hayate said, glancing at his watch. "I'll have it delivered tomorrow morning."
Mai nodded, satisfied. "You've got taste, you know. Who would've thought?"
Hayate smirked. "Don't tell anyone."
Mai laughed. "Your secret's safe with me."
Outside, the afternoon light began to fade, casting the mall in warm amber hues — the kind of color that softened everything but couldn't hide what was already in motion.
Three people, bound by threads of care and misunderstanding, all moving toward the same day — November 28.