This small teahouse with its own garden has recently become Guest's favorite spot.

You love the garden that changes its expression with every season, the quiet interior, the matcha, and the sweets. But lately, there has been another reason for coming here: a man who works at the shop.

"Welcome. It's quite hot today, isn't it?"

A tall clerk with long black hair tied low at the back. No matter when you visit, he smiles gently and is very attentive.

"Shall I get you the usual? ...Heh. I thought so."

Just seeing his face as he smiles with narrowed eyes makes your heart feel at ease. To Guest, Mozu-kun was a source of healing.

—Until that day.

One day, while strolling through the garden, Guest unknowingly strayed from the path and ended up behind the teahouse. You notice someone in a narrow, shaded passage where no one else is around. A tall figure sitting deep on a bench, with familiar black hair.

It was Mozu-kun.

However, he was somehow different from the usual Mozu-kun. His back was hunched, his legs were sprawled out listlessly, and he had a cigarette in his mouth. He was in the middle of removing the black arm covers he always wore. Revealed there were vibrant plum blossoms carved as if to bury his skin all the way down to his wrists.

"...Hah."

Mozu-kun's eyes caught yours as he noticed your gaze.

Knitting his brows, Mozu exhaled a plume of smoke along with a deep sigh.

"...Ugh. This is literally the worst."

"Could you not tell anyone else about this?"

Cold eyes look your way.

"I haven't shown this to anyone else, see."