“I’m so sorry! If it wasn’t for me, you could have picked a spot with bigger waves!”
Minato apologized profusely with his hands pressed down on the table. During their post-lunch practice, he had nailed all his takeoffs, but unfortunately he had failed to catch a single wave.
“There will always be another wave. All you have to do is keep trying!”
Minato looked up in surprise, and Hinako grinned at him.
“Besides, I’m glad we decided to come here,” she said, “if only to visit this cool café!”
Minato had brought her to a little seaside café called Siren, which was run by an elderly couple. Their main specialty was coffee, and they offered a wide variety of brewing methods: drip, pour over, cold brew, French press, and so on. (Minato seemed very passionate about this, but truth be told, Hinako didn’t really know the difference.)
Weren’t “sirens” those…monsters? Spirits? From Greek mythology? The ones who lured sailors to their death with their beautiful singing? The symbol on the store sign depicted a woman with wings, and the interior design featured a nautical theme with classical music played quietly in the background, so as to not get in the way of conversation. In this café, the coffee was the siren, luring in the customers.
In addition to coffee, they also offered ginger ale, grape juice, plum onigiri, baguette sandwiches with ham and cheese—a simple and traditional menu, which Hinako could appreciate. On top of all that, the food and drink was transported by a small freight elevator called a dumbwaiter. Pretty cool.
They were seated on the second floor, overlooking the first, and when their pancakes arrived, they were stamped with the café’s trademark siren symbol.
“I’ve been wanting to try this place for quite some time,” Minato mused after they finished, gazing down over the railing at the first floor. “I like that they’ve got plenty of fire extinguishers behind the counter.”
Then he realized what he said and hunched his shoulders in embarrassment.
That’s the first thing you noticed? Hinako burst out laughing. “You know, Hinage—”
She stopped short and averted her eyes shyly. It felt silly to call him by his first name when they weren’t even dating, but… Eh, screw it.
“As long as I’m with you, Minato-san, I feel like I’m in safe hands.”
“You are,” he nodded. He abruptly leaned forward across the table. “I’ll always be there to help you…always!”
It was so sudden, Hinako couldn’t help but startle back. The look in his eyes was so intense, it made her blush…
“Well, uh…we should probably get going!” she blurted as she jumped to her feet.
“Oh, okay…”
Breathe, Hinako, breathe! God, my face must be as red as a fire truck! Avoiding Minato’s gaze, Hinako speedily loaded the tray with their dirty dishes.
“I’ll take care of that,” Minato offered as he rose from his chair.
No, no, no, no! I can’t look at him point-blank or my heart will explode! In a full-blown panic, Hinako sped over to the dumbwaiter, tray in hand. “I’ve got it covered!”
“Wait! Don’t!”
But Minato’s flustered shout didn’t register, and Hinako stuffed the tray in through the open doors.
Then she felt the tray plummet downwards—much lower than it should have.
Wait, what?
“AAAHH!”
Right as Hinako stuck her head into the empty elevator shaft, there was a deafening crash as the dishes shattered down below.
She hadn’t noticed them lower the dumbwaiter…
“I’m so sorry!”
Hinako bowed so deeply that her forehead practically touched her knees. Now Minato was probably pissed at her… God, kill me now! I’ve already dug my own grave—I might as well dig all the way to Brazil and start my life over! I’ll dance the samba until I forget any of this ever happened!
Fortunately, the owners were extremely forgiving, and when she offered to compensate them for their broken dishes, they declined.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s an old machine,” said the wife, dressed in an apron.
“You from Tokyo?” asked the husband, wearing a white button-down shirt, a black vest, a bow tie, and a pair of round glasses.
“Chiba, actually,” Hinako answered.
“You don’t say!” The wife smiled, wrinkles creasing around her eyes.
“One of our former employees opened his own branch there. You oughta stop by sometime,” said the husband as he handed Hinako a business card. Sure enough, the address wasn’t too far from her town.
“Their equipment isn’t quite so old,” the wife laughed amicably, her salt-and-pepper ponytail swaying with the motions.
After one final apology, Hinako and Minato left the café. The sun had started to sink beneath the sea, and the beach was now completely deserted.
“I’d like to run a café of my own someday,” Minato sighed. Evidently firefighting wasn’t his only dream.
And then there’s me: a total hot mess. Hinako mumbled, “I’m sorry for freaking out back there.”
And not in a cute way, either—in a “chasing a stray cat barefoot down the street” kind of way. If only she could stop and think instead of losing her cool around the only guy who’d ever shown interest in her… But after how careless she’d been just now, there was no way he would want to be around her anymore…
Heartbroken, Hinako put her hands on her hips and let the sea breeze blow against her.
“Would you want to do this again sometime…?” Minato murmured.
What…? As Hinako stared at him in shock, he turned and looked at her.
“Go surfing, I mean? Well…not that I’m any good at it.” Minato averted his gaze in defeat for a moment, then looked back at her. “Or we could get coffee again…or we could go somewhere else, or…”
“Huh?!”
Wait, so he…he…he…?! Is this…?!
“I, uh…”
I’m not reading too much into it, right?! He’s asking for a second date?!
“Yeah!”
Cheeks burning, Hinako bowed her head like she was asking for a favor.
And so their love story began.
Spring was coming to an end, and the waves were at peace.