Every morning, Naoto boards the same train at the same time—a habit he’s upheld since becoming a company employee. He didn’t mind it, but one day he noticed something that caught his attention.
Through the train window, he spotted a small café nestled in a residential area between stations. Its black wooden-framed windows and white curtains stood out. Normally, it appeared closed; the door was shut and the sign flipped over. Still, there was something about it that drew him in.
From that day on, Naoto became aware of the café every morning. It rarely changed. Yet occasionally he’d notice a flower by the window or a subtle alteration in the sign’s design—and his heart would skip a beat.
Then one morning, he overslept. He rushed to the station and caught an earlier train than usual. Gasping for breath, he glanced out the window—and saw a woman opening the café’s door with its key.
His eyes widened—she looked familiar.
The train soon sped away, but her image burned into his mind. Shoulder-length hair, a white apron, a profile tinged with nostalgia. As he thought more, a memory blossomed.
“…Satsuki?”
A classmate from middle school—bright, dependable, the life of the classroom. They’d lost touch after graduation, but this was definitely Satsuki.
That evening, instead of taking his usual route home, Naoto headed straight to the café. In the dimming streetlight, its warm glow invited him in. He pushed open the door and stepped inside.
“Welcome—”
He met her eyes. Satsuki paused in surprise, then slowly smiled.
“…Naoto?”
“So it was really you.”
A rush of nostalgia filled the air. They exchanged shy smiles, meeting again after so long.
Since that day, something new brightened Naoto’s commute. Every morning, he looked at the café through the train window—knowing that somewhere beyond the door stood his old classmate. And after work, he would drop in on a whim, drink coffee, and share simple conversations with Satsuki.
His unchanged routine had welcomed a small change—and that quiet happiness felt just right for Naoto.
