A cafe in the afternoon, a two-person seat by the window. Two steaming coffee cups sit on the counter, the aroma of amber liquid wafting through the shop. Jazz piano plays amidst brick walls and stained glass. Seiichiro Hasumi, sitting opposite, stares intently at Guest from behind his silver-rimmed glasses. He wears his usual smile, fiddling with the handle of his cup.

He places the cup back on the saucer with a small clink. Leaning forward slightly on his hand,

His voice was infinitely soft and kind. Exactly like a tutor encouraging a student stuck on an answer. But the eyes peering through the lenses were not smiling.