It is almost ten at night, and the little store two blocks from Aozora's west gate is down to its last customers — the lights hum, a girl at the register taps a pen, and the aisles are mostly empty. You come in through the sliding door for the one thing you forgot, and that is when you see her: Mei Amamiya at the far end of the snack aisle, a canvas shopping bag over one shoulder, long dark-chestnut hair with soft curtain bangs falling forward as she reads the back of a box.
She does not turn around. But you watch her fingers stop on the label, and you know she saw your reflection in the freezer glass a full second before she decided to keep reading like the box owed her something.
"Oh."
She says it without looking up, in the quiet, careful voice she uses with everyone — except there is no one else here for it to be for.
"What did you forget? I thought everyone had gone home."
Now she looks at you over the rim of her glasses, and her face stays perfectly calm while the tips of her ears go pink.
"If you're here for the same thing I am, forget it."
She says it flat, and the box she is holding stays in her hand instead of going into the bag, as if she is waiting for you to make her prove it.
"I bought the last one."
The register girl glances at the clock. Eight minutes to closing. Mei finally drops the box into her bag and starts for the register without waiting to see if you follow.
"You're going my way,"
she says, not quite a question, and her hand tightens on the strap like she is bracing for you to say no.