Chapter 37: Volume 1, - 37: White Day at the Bakery
Tuesday, 14 March 2023
Tuesday morning made White Day impossible to ignore. Outside Kawaguchi Station, convenience store shelves were lined with white ribbons, marshmallow boxes, wrapped chocolates, and pale blue gift bags. At QuickMart, Ren spent the first half-hour of his shift stocking the promotional endcap with strawberry biscuits and packaged financiers. Salarymen grabbed last-minute parcels before squeezing onto their morning trains.
Ren felt a quiet thrill every time he looked out toward the station precinct. Back near his apartment, his 2019 Toyota Crown sat in its rented space, immaculate in White Pearl Crystal Shine. He had checked his phone twice already to view the photograph he had taken of it the previous afternoon. Yet, when his shift ended at noon, he did not drive. Driving meant petrol, traffic, and coin parking near the shopping street. Today, the train was simply easier.
In his shoulder bag, packed inside a neat paper bag, was a square box of high-end French butter cookies wrapped in cream paper and secured with a dark green ribbon. It had cost him three thousand five hundred yen from a department store in Omiya.
As he rode the Tobu Line, holding the bag gently against his thigh, a sudden wave of self-consciousness struck him. Yesterday he had taken ownership of an executive sedan, yet here he was, clutching a three-thousand-yen box of biscuits.
’Is this too simple?’ Ren thought, staring at his reflection in the window. ’Should I have bought something larger? No... if I show up with something overly expensive, it’ll just make her uncomfortable. But still...’ He wanted to impress her.
When he reached the local shopping arcade around two in the afternoon, Akiyama Bakery was crowded.
Hiroshi Akiyama’s broad, flour-dusted back was visible through the open kitchen doorway, sliding heavy wooden trays of hot baguettes onto cooling racks. Keiko was behind the register, her hands moving in a practised rhythm as she rang up purchases.
Suzune was moving with sharp, practised efficiency. She wore her white baker’s apron over a light beige knit sweater, her chestnut hair tied back in a neat ponytail with a few loose strands framing her face. She was carrying three ribbon-tied pastry boxes while checking a handwritten ledger.
"Akiyama-san," a customer called from the counter. "Is the seasonal strawberry tart order ready?"
"Just a moment!" Suzune replied warmly, stepping around a stack of delivery boxes.
As she reached for the clipboard near the staff lockers, her smartphone chimed on the side table. The screen lit up with notifications:
Aya Nishino: Don’t forget, 6:30 at the izakaya near the station! Haruka is already bringing the White Day gossip.
Haruka Sato: Wrap up early, Suzune! We need a full debrief on the bakery sales today!
Suzune typed a rapid reply:
Suzune: Understood, just wrapping up the afternoon pre-orders!
She immediately turned back to fetch the tart box.
By three o’clock, the counter cleared, leaving only a few remaining pre-order boxes on the side shelf. Suzune wiped her hands on her apron, resting her lower back against the counter with a soft sigh. When she met Ren’s eyes, a bright smile smoothed away her tiredness.
"Kisaragi-san," she said cheerfully. "Sorry, it was completely chaotic."
"It’s no problem at all," Ren said, stepping forward. He carefully placed the cream-wrapped box on the glass counter. "Happy White Day, Akiyama-san."
Suzune looked down, a slight blush rising along her cheeks. "You actually brought something? Kisaragi-san, you didn’t have to."
"It’s proper etiquette," Ren said, adjusting his collar slightly. "You gave me handmade chocolates on Valentine’s Day. Even though they were badly designed."
"Can I open it?" she asked with a subtle glint in her eyes.
"Of course."
Suzune untied the dark green ribbon, her slender fingers moving with delicate precision. A trace of flour remained along her wrist. As she lifted the lid, revealing the golden galettes, the scent of vanilla and roasted hazelnuts wafted into the air.
"Galettes de Pont-Aven..." she murmured, a gentle, teasing smirk appearing. "You overthought this, didn’t you?"
Ren looked away briefly. "They had good reviews."
"They’re wonderful," Suzune chuckled softly, leaning slightly closer.
Ren caught the faint scent of sweet yeast and her floral shampoo. Her amber eyes were bright as she admired the pastry arrangement. Standing this close, Ren felt a sharp, adult pulse of attraction tighten in his chest. He kept his posture steady, though his heart hammered against his ribs.
"Thank you, Kisaragi-san," she added softly. "It makes me very happy."
The bell above the shop door chimed. A customer in a suit walked in, holding a receipt. "Hello, I’m here to pick up the Corporate Gift Set B under Takahashi."
"Ah, yes! Takahashi-sama," Suzune said, picking up a large box marked ’Takahashi’.
Keiko stepped out from the back office with a slip, looking puzzled. "Suzune, did Takahashi-sama already pick up their box? The delivery log says the three-box set was picked up at one o’clock by their assistant."
"Eh?" Suzune paused, checking the slip. "No, Takahashi-sama ordered the two-box cake set for three o’clock. The three-box set at one o’clock was for Tanaka-sama."
"Wait," Hiroshi called out from the kitchen, leaning through the doorway with a frown. "We used the last batch of cakes for the one o’clock order because the slip on the table said ’Takahashi - 3 boxes’!"
The customer blinked. "Is there a problem? Our presentation is at four o’clock."
Keiko began checking the ledger. "The names were transposed... the labels got swapped during the noon rush!"
Ren stood quietly, watching them handle the situation. Hiroshi checked the oven timers while Keiko reviewed the remaining stock. Within two minutes, Keiko suggested substituting the missing cake tier with fresh almond tuiles from the cooling rack and placing them in a divided presentation box, while Hiroshi adjusted the billing slip and offered a small discount for the wait. The customer accepted the solution and left satisfied ten minutes later.
Once the front door closed, Hiroshi hung up his apron with a heavy sigh. "When the counter gets busy, writing things down twice on paper is where the errors happen."
He looked over at Ren. "Kisaragi-san, you look at business setups. What did you see just now?"
Ren thought carefully before answering. "The same order seems to get rewritten several times between intake and preparation."
Hiroshi shook his head mildly. "The kitchen copy isn’t usually the problem. It’s changes after lunch. They don’t always reach us in the back."
"And some customers have already paid while others haven’t," Keiko added. "That’s important when we change an order on the fly."
Ren nodded, taking in the practical reality of their operation. His initial theoretical ideas were simpler than the actual human friction on the shop floor.
Keiko looked at her husband, then at Ren. "Kisaragi-san, could your company look at our order logging formally? Bring us a written quote to clean up the counter slips."
Ren hesitated slightly, looking at Suzune. "I wouldn’t want to overstep."
Suzune stepped around the counter, her eyes clear and firm. "If you do it, Mum and Dad should pay your company properly. I don’t want you fixing the shop for free because we are friends."
Ren felt a surge of respect for her boundary. "Understood. I’ll put together a written quote."
By 5:30 p.m., the shop sign was turned to ’CLOSED’. Suzune hung up her apron and put on her coat, holding her gift bag.
"I’m heading out now, Mum, Dad!" she called out.
Ren walked with Suzune down the illuminated arcade toward the station entrance.
"Thanks again for the cookies, Kisaragi-san," Suzune said, holding the bag close to her side as they reached the ticket gates. "And for listening to Dad earlier."
"Have a good time with your friends tonight," Ren said with a gentle smile.
"I will! See you soon," she said, waving before tapping her IC card and walking through the turnstiles.
Suzune disappeared through the ticket gates, the cookie box held against her side. Ren turned toward his own platform, still absurdly pleased by her smile.