The soft clink of cups and the low murmur of early risers filled the quiet café just a block away from Yoyogi park. A slow golden morning poured through wide windows, brushing across wooden chairs, warm pastries and Leo's untouched sketchbook.
He came here every day—not for the coffee, and not even for the drawing.
He came for her.
At 8:07 a.m. sharp, she would enter. Same rhythm, same table, always with a faint breeze in her hair and a book in her hand. Sometimes it was Norwegian Wood, sometimes a worn-out volume of Haiku Anthology. She dressed simply—linen skirts, soft blouses, muted colors—but she carried herself like poetry.
He didn't know her name.
But he had nicknamed her in his head: Sun-chan, because she brought light into the room.
Until this morning.
Today, she didn't head to her usual corner.
She walked toward him.
Leo nearly knocked over his cup. She stopped at the table directly across from his and smiled gently.
"Is this seat taken?" she asked, her voice calm, like rain on a summer rooftop.
He stared for a bit too long. "No please."
She sat down, carefully setting her bag beside her and looking out the window for a quiet moment. Her presence changed the air around him—warmer, quieter, weightless.
"I've seen you before," she said, turning toward him. "You always sit here. Sketchbook open. Pages blank."
He scratched his head, embarrassed. "Yeah. I guess... it's hard to start."
She nodded. "Maybe you're waiting for the right thing."
"Or the right person," Leo said, then immediately regretted it.
She laughed softly. "Smooth."
Leo relaxed slightly. Her laugh wasn't rehearsed—it was real, like a secret she shared only with those she trusted.
"Are you a manga artist?" she asked.
"Trying to be…," he replied.
She studied him for a second. "You look like someone who draws quietly but feels loudly."
That sentence lingered between them. Leo gave a half-smile. "That's... strangely accurate."
She smiled. "I have a name, you know."
He blinked. "You do?"
She leaned in just slightly, as if letting him in on a small secret.
"It's Arie," she said. "But you can call me Arie-chan, if it helps you draw."
Leo repeated it in his head. Arie… Arie-chan.
It felt right.
"I'm Leo," he said.
"I know," she replied.
He blinked. "You do?"
Arie-chan smiled again, this time with a playful glint. "You sign your coffee receipts."
She stood suddenly, picking up her bag.
"Wait," he said, unsure why.
"I'll be here tomorrow," she said. "Don't leave your sketchbook blank."
Then she walked away.
And for the first time in weeks, Leo picked up his pen.
And drew.
- Written by H1M