Chapter 8: Volume 1, - 8: The Second Conversation
On the late afternoon of Monday, 13 February 2023, Ren walked toward Akiyama Bakery with the simple intention of buying a loaf of bread before his night shift at QuickMart. The low winter sun cast long, amber shadows across the covered arcade of the Nishi-Kawaguchi shopping district. Most of the family-owned storefronts were preparing to pull down their metal shutters for the evening, filling the cold air with the quiet clatter of closing routines.
As Ren approached, he saw Suzune step out through the side exit of the bakery. Her apron was gone, and her oversized grey wool coat was buttoned over her dark clothes. Her shift had ended, although the ovens and Valentine preparation were still running under her parents inside. She held two large, translucent yellow rubbish bags filled with paper flour sacks and plastic packaging. She paused at the curb, adjusting her grip on the heavy bags while looking down the narrow alley toward the neighborhood rubbish collection point.
Ren adjusted the collar of his navy BlockTech coat and stepped forward, keeping his posture grounded and his distance respectful.
"Akiyama-san," he called out softly, stopping a few paces away. "Would you like me to carry one of those to the collection point for you?"
Suzune turned, her breath puffing into the chilly air. She looked at him, and for a fraction of a second, her expression held a beat of quiet surprise. Her eyes swept over his neatly cleared hairline, the structured line of his shoulders, and the clean white collar resting beneath his grey knit sweater.
"Kisaragi-san," she said, her lips curving into an appreciative smile. She held up the bag in her left hand, which was visibly lighter than the right. "I wouldn’t turn down the help. You can take this one. The cardboard inside keeps poking my leg."
Ren took the bag carefully, taking care not to let their fingers touch, and lifted it with ease. Suzune kept the second bag, and together they walked the short distance down the paved alley toward the designated neighborhood dump site.
"You look very sharp today," Suzune noted, her amber-brown eyes crinkling at the corners as she glanced over at him. "The haircut suits you. And the coat as well."
Ren shifted his grip on the heavy plastic bag, feeling a familiar, cautious defensiveness rise inside him. He looked at her sideways. "Are you just saying that because I’m carrying your trash?"
Suzune let out a sudden, bright laugh that echoed against the narrow brick walls of the alley. "Do you audit every compliment you receive, Kisaragi-san?"
Ren felt a warmth rise in his neck, but he couldn’t help a faint, genuine smile from breaking through his usual restraint. "Only the unexpected ones."
"Well, keep the receipt," she said lightly, tossing her rubbish bag onto the collection frame with practiced ease. "It was entirely genuine."
Ren placed his bag neatly beside hers, ensuring it wouldn’t tear against the wire frame. As they turned back toward the arcade, the System interface flickered briefly at the edge of his vision, reminding him of his pending objective.
’Ask one sincere follow-up question during the next conversation,’ he recalled from the previous day’s prompt. He looked at Suzune as they walked side by side under the low streetlamps.
"Akiyama-san," Ren began, his voice even and unhurried. "On Saturday, you mentioned wanting to modernise the bakery without losing its identity. Why stay here and take on that headache with your family, rather than working for a larger company or setting up something somewhere else?"
Suzune slowed her pace slightly, looking out toward the evening traffic passing at the end of the arcade. The playful tone vanished, replaced by a quiet, focused intensity.
"I could apply to a larger bakery or food company and spend my time working on someone else’s products," she said softly. "My parents built this shop from nothing twenty years ago. The recipes are good, and the neighborhood relies on us. But Dad still runs production orders using the old style. We waste hours every week tracking seasonal orders by hand. If I just leave, the shop will eventually be swallowed up by chain stores or close when my parents get too old."
She stopped near the bakery’s side entrance, turning to face him. "I don’t just want to be the owner’s daughter who works the register. I want to prove I can protect what they built while bringing it into the current decade. It’s frustrating, and we argue about changes almost every day, but it matters to me."
Ren listened attentively, recognizing the quiet pride and stubborn independence in her voice. He respected it deeply, it was a form of courage he had lacked when his own life had begun to fracture.
"I understand," Ren said quietly. "You want to change how the work is handled without changing what people come back for."
Suzune looked at him intently, her amber-brown eyes searching his face. "What about you, Kisaragi-san? What were you doing before you started working night shifts at QuickMart?"
The question hit Ren like a cold draught. His stomach tightened instantly. The reality of his failure. The tuition fund Masato had destroyed, the second-year dropout, and the approximately ¥1.8 million in personal debt he had taken on afterward rose like a wall between them.
"I studied economics," Ren said, choosing his words with deliberate care. He paused, the truth lingering at the back of his throat, but the shame was too heavy to lift. He stopped right there, letting the statement hang in the air without adding that he had walked away from the degree and was currently submerged in debt.
Her amber-brown eyes lingered on the tension around his mouth, but she did not ask another question.
The bakery’s side door opened, and Suzune’s father stepped out holding a packet of printed Valentine labels, wiping his hands on his flour-dusted apron.
"Your mother said to take these home," he said.
Suzune accepted them. "Thanks, Dad."
Her father gave Ren a brief, neutral nod, then returned inside.
Suzune turned back to Ren, adjusting her coat. "Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. Tonight and tomorrow will be chaos here. Don’t come during the rush unless you plan to put on an apron and help us bake."
Before they separated, Suzune nodded toward the bakery’s front entrance. "You came to buy bread, didn’t you? Dad can still ring up a loaf."
Ren returned to the counter and bought one loaf of Akiyama shokupan. He tucked the wrapped bread under his arm, unaware that he had left the paper receipt on the payment tray.
"Good night, Kisaragi-san," she said, offering him a warm, lingering smile before heading toward the residential street.
Ren walked along the Kawaguchi riverside toward his family’s apartment, the cold wind blowing off the water as dusk settled over the city. His mind was weighed down by the quiet omission he had just made.
Later that evening, before heading to his night shift, Ren carried half the loaf to the Kawaguchi apartment where his mother, Emiko, and his nineteen-year-old younger sister, Mei, lived.
Emiko accepted the wrapped bread at the door with a tired, grateful smile. "Ren, you don’t need to keep bringing us food. Bread from the shopping arcade isn’t cheap."
"They discounted the last loaves before closing," Ren lied smoothly, keeping his tone light and offhand so she wouldn’t feel the burden of charity. "There was excess stock today. Please enjoy it with Mei."
After returning to his own cold room, Ren sat on his futon to put on his work socks. Suddenly, the System interface flickered across his vision:
[Sincere follow-up objective complete.]
[Connection Notes unlocked.]
[Connection Notes record only facts personally learned. Private thoughts unavailable.]
A secondary interface tab opened in his mind, displaying a simple ledger format. At the very top of the frame, a line of small, subtle grey text was written:
Facts worth remembering when memory becomes expensive.
Beneath the header, the initial entries had automatically populated:
Subject: Suzune Akiyama
- Parents founded Akiyama Bakery around 2003.
- Works the counter, helps with new products and records unusual requests.
- Wants to modernise order handling without turning the bakery into an anonymous chain.
- Remains at the bakery because she wants to protect what her parents built.
Ren studied the cold, factual structure of the log. The System did not provide insights into her feelings, nor did it offer shortcuts to her affection.
He picked up his phone to check the time for his shift. Screen lighting up at six percent battery, he saw a push notification from the messaging application LINE.
It was not a personal contact request, Ren had not exchanged personal IDs with her. Instead, it was an automated broadcast message from the official Akiyama Bakery Public LINE Account, which he had followed months ago for discount coupons.
At the bottom of the automated store-hours broadcast, a short admin note had been added:
You left your receipt. Also, the coat suits you, really..