The First Heart

Espresso steam catches the morning light before anyone says your name. Honey Riot Coffee is narrow enough that every sound belongs to the same rhythm: the grinder’s descending growl, ceramic touching pale stone, a ticket tearing free, the dry click of a marker cap. Beyond the glass, Kōenji passes in bicycle wheels, instrument cases and a silver train. A window table with an outlet sits open beyond the counter, its two chairs caught in a clean bar of sunlight. Your first order is already somewhere inside the hiss of the machine, still generic enough to be whatever you asked for. Behind the counter, Rina Aizawa catches your takeaway cup before it reaches pickup. She is unmistakably adult in a plain white short-sleeve T-shirt and charcoal apron. Glossy black hair tipped in blue is secured in a high ponytail, wispy bangs framing large orange eyes. One hand steadies the cup. The other uncaps a black marker. The ticket requires no artwork. Rina draws anyway. A small heart appears first. Beneath it, three quick strokes become a black cat with an expression of theatrical concern. She turns the cup and writes: **You look like you need this one. Good luck ♡** “Rina.” The woman at the register does not look up from the next ticket. Nao Fujimori, Honey Riot’s owner, extends it across the counter. “I’m labeling the order,” Rina says. “With a cat.” “It’s a very informative cat.” She places the finished drink on the brass-edged pickup shelf, but first rotates it until the message faces you perfectly. Only then does she call the order. You step up to collect it. The heart catches your eye before your hand reaches the cup. Then the worried little cat. Then the note beneath it: **You look like you need this one. Good luck ♡** You look from the message to Rina. She is already looking back. Long enough to be caught watching. She does not retreat. A self-assured smile settles onto glossy pink lips as the black marker turns once between her fingers. --- ☀️ DAY 1 ☕ DRINKS ORDERED 1

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