Kotomi hurried to a nearby bookstore. Since she had spent the entire morning in class, she hadn't been able to visit earlier. Though it was already afternoon, it wasn't too late.
In fact, this was the perfect time. The bookstore saw the most customers in the afternoon and early evening, when students stopped by after school and office workers browsed before heading home. Many people treated the bookstore as a daily retreat, flipping through magazines and photo books—though not all of them would make a purchase.
"Oh, Kotomi, you're here! Want some caramel biscuits again today?" The bookstore owner, who was restocking weekly magazines, looked up at the sound of the automatic doors and greeted her warmly.
Kotomi was a frequent visitor. Even if she hadn't purchased countless books from this store, her stunning appearance alone made her unforgettable to many people. She left a lasting impression wherever she went—often without realizing it.
The bookstore owner, however, had an additional reason to remember her well. Though the store was single-story, it was spacious, resembling a large open-floor plan. For years, the owner had dreamed of combining a bookstore with a café, drawing in book lovers with coffee and enticing coffee drinkers to pick up a book.
Just outside the store, on the right, was a separate café space. The owner's coffee brewing skills were exceptional, earning her a loyal following of regulars.
Kotomi was one of them—not because she was a coffee enthusiast, but because she adored the caramel biscuits that came with the drinks.
Originally, they were complimentary. But after Kotomi's repeated visits, she had single-handedly turned them into a paid item on the menu.
According to the owner's dramatic complaints, if Kotomi kept eating them for free, the bookstore would be bankrupt by the next day!
"Yes, please, I'd love some. Any sweet coffee will do. And make me 50 caramel biscuits."
"Are you planning to take some home?" the owner asked curiously.
That question made Kotomi pause. Oh, right. I've been meaning to bring some home for my parents and sister to try. But after finishing her painting recently, she had been in a bit of a daze. Even after snapping out of it, she had completely forgotten about this plan.
"Actually, make it 80 biscuits. I'll take 30 home."
"Wait, you're planning to eat 50 by yourself?!" The bookstore owner nearly dropped her stack of magazines in shock.
Then again, she shouldn't have been surprised. Kotomi's appetite for caramel biscuits had been extraordinary since the first time she visited. It was almost surreal—like something out of a cyberpunk, Victorian-era industrial revolution fantasy.
Despite being in a bookstore, Kotomi ordered food as if she were in a restaurant. And just like that, she made her way toward the light novel section.
The moment she stepped in, her eyes lit up.
An Asuna life-size standee?!
Since when did Dengeki Bunko start making these? Why didn't I know about this?!
The Sword Art Online display shelf was neatly stacked with Volume 1 of the novel.
Kotomi quickly picked up a perfectly pristine copy, making sure all eight corners were sharp and flawless. Only after confirming its condition did she relax, ready to pay for it later.
Taking out her phone, she carefully captured the display from every possible angle, ensuring she didn't miss a single detail.
The bookstore owner, hearing the sound of snapping photos, glanced over and couldn't help but chuckle to herself.
Is she investigating a crime scene or something?
After meticulously capturing every angle of the display, Kotomi finally put away her phone, satisfied. She picked up a first-edition limited copy of Sword Art Online Volume 1 and walked over to the counter, where she placed her order along with the book—one cup of coffee and 80 caramel biscuits.
"Vanilla-flavored coffee?" Kotomi glanced at the cup the owner had prepared for her. She hadn't had this particular flavor often.
She vaguely recalled trying it once before, but it had been so long that she couldn't remember the taste.
"Vanilla coffee is a favorite among our customers—it's the perfect choice for those who don't like their coffee too bold. If you ask me, though, I'd personally go for hazelnut latte instead."
Kotomi nodded in half-understanding. Her knowledge of coffee was minimal—just enough to appreciate its taste without delving into the intricacies. What little she did know came from a past obsession with a particular manga, which had inspired a rather vivid fantasy of hers.
In this dream, she envisioned herself as a villainous mastermind who once held the world in the palm of her hand. In the neon-lit alleys of a bustling metropolis, she ran a classic-style café. The soothing hum of vinyl records filled the air, perfectly complementing the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee beans.
Blue and violet neon lights flickered against the heavy steel sky. Rain poured down in cascading sheets, dyed in an iridescent glow, turning the cityscape into a dreamlike spectacle.
A stunning woman entered the café, her every movement exuding effortless charm. Her alluring smile and the elegant fragrance of her perfume made her presence impossible to ignore.
She approached the bar counter with practiced familiarity, her gaze locking onto Kotomi—who stood behind the counter, dressed in a sleek black short-sleeved top and a long, flowing skirt.
Kotomi's lips, painted with an exquisite shade of icy purple lipstick, curved into a dangerously enchanting smile, like a serpent poised to strike.
The woman's mesmerizing eyes flickered with nostalgia, replaying the memories of the times they had stood side by side, braving life-or-death situations together. Years ago, they had once raced through a stormy night, speeding in a roaring Maybach, breaking through the rain-soaked veil of the old world's gods.
Dressed in a form-fitting bodysuit, a black leather short-sleeved jacket, denim shorts, and crimson-black boots, Kotomi had straddled a Harley motorcycle, outracing a nuclear countdown.
"In the darkness, deception is effortless. This cocktail coffee, Christine's Tears, is for you, my beautiful girl," Kotomi murmured as she poured the drink.
The woman's voice carried a lingering melancholy. "We've been through so much together—life, death, unforgettable nights. And yet, every time, you slip away so effortlessly. No matter how many mornings come, I never get to wake up beside you. Even now, after all these years, I know nothing more about you than I did back then. You remain an enigma, forever wrapped in secrets."
Her eyes, brimming with emotions, stayed locked onto Kotomi. Despite the years apart, despite her best efforts, she found herself once again ensnared by the allure of this wicked woman.
Kotomi lifted her gaze, her lips curling into a wicked yet irresistibly charming smirk.
"A secret makes a woman a woman."
The woman sighed, intoxicated by Kotomi's words. "Oh~ I think I've completely fallen for you, Kotomi 'The Femme Fatale' Izumi. You're like a drug—impossible to quit. Forgetting you is the greatest unsolvable mystery in the world."
"On a night like this, shouldn't we make the rain in the room fall even harder~?"
"What am I to you, really? A lover, an enemy, a rival, a stage, a toy, or… a coffin? I've pondered this question for so long. But now that I see you again, I realize… the answer doesn't even matter anymore. I just want to be yours."
"Hehehehe…"
Still standing at the bookstore counter, Kotomi found herself grinning uncontrollably as she indulged in her elaborate fantasy of Kotomi the Femme Fatale.
The bookstore owner, watching from the side, let out a silent sigh.
She's such a beautiful girl… too bad she's completely insane.
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