In a quiet corner of town, there exists a mysterious café that only opens at night.
Its name is Lumière, meaning “light.” True to its name, its door silently opens as the moon rises, welcoming visitors with the gentle glow of warm lamps.
Here, they don’t simply serve coffee or tea.
Instead, you’re given the one drink you truly need.
“Good evening, Master.”
The café door creaked open to reveal a young boy named Rio.
He was small—no older than ten—and the end seat at the counter had long been his place.
Behind the counter stood Luca, the owner, wearing a calm smile.
His graying hair and slightly worn apron matched the tranquil presence that filled the café.
“How are you feeling tonight, Rio?”
Climbing onto his seat, Rio clenched his little fists.
“…I want to know how not to forget someone important.”
Luca blinked, surprised, but soon gave a warm smile.
“That’s a difficult request.”
Rio nodded solemnly.
“My mom… she’s gone now. She was sick for a long time… and I don’t want to forget her.
But as time goes by, I feel like her voice, her smile… they’re starting to fade.
And that scares me.”
Luca listened quietly, then disappeared into the back room with a gentle “Wait here a moment.”
A few minutes later, he returned with a small cup of amber-colored tea.
Rio tilted his head. “What’s this?”
“Starlight Tea,” Luca replied gently. “Try it.”
Rio took a sip.
It was warm, subtly sweet.
As the flavor touched his tongue, a familiar scent drifted to his nose.
—Ah… that’s Mom’s scent.
The same gentle herbal aroma he used to smell when she read him bedtime stories.
A comforting warmth flowed from his throat to his chest, wrapping around him like her embrace.
“…This is amazing,” Rio said, wide-eyed. “I can remember her again.”
Luca smiled softly.
“Memories are strange things.
Scents, tastes, sounds, and touch—they all hide little keys to the past.
It’s not about not forgetting—it’s about knowing how to remember.
So, Rio—”
From behind the counter, Luca handed him a small jar filled with tea leaves.
“Keep this scent close.
And you’ll always be able to remember her.”
Rio clutched the jar tightly, as if holding his mother’s warmth in his hands.
That night, the lights of Lumière glowed a little softer than usual.
Beneath the twinkling stars, a small miracle quietly came to life.
