Chapter 36 : Snow, Cinnamon, and Catastrophic Misunderstandings

6 Days Before Christmas

It was snowing.
Not the blizzard, kind of snow, but the lazy, drifting kind that made the whole street feel like a snow globe someone had just shaken.

I was halfway through my morning toast when my phone buzzed.

Airi: You’re free this afternoon, right?

Me: …I think?

Airi: Good. Meet me at that new Christmas café by the station. 2 p.m.

Me: …Why?

Airi: Research.

Me: For what?

Airi: That’s classified.

And that was it. No explanation, no emoji, no “please.” Just a command like she was scheduling a business meeting.

Naturally, I showed up.

The café was tucked between a bookstore and a shop selling overpriced scarves.
The windows were fogged from the inside, glowing faintly orange from a fireplace in the corner.
Strings of fairy lights framed the door, The smell of cinnamon hit me before I even touched the handle.

I spotted her immediately, waving from a corner seat by the fire, wearing a cream colored coat and the tiniest smile.

I was halfway there when a cheerful waiter intercepted me.

“Ah! You must be the boyfriend Airi-san mentioned!”

I froze.

She froze.

There was a moment where I swear the crackle from the fireplace got louder, like it wanted front row seats.

“…Boyfriend?” I repeated slowly, my voice cracking just enough to betray me.

The waiter beamed. “She reserved the seat for her boyfriend, so I—”

“That’s—!” Airi started, her voice a pitch higher than usual. “He’s not—! You can’t just—!”

I blinked at her. “…Wait… you reserved this for…?”

“I—! No! That’s—! They misheard me!” Her cheeks were pink now, and not from the cold.

I could feel my own ears heating up. “…Right. Misheard. Totally.”

The waiter looked between us, clearly regretting their career choices, then retreated without another word.

I slid into my seat, trying not to make eye contact. “Well. That was… an interesting welcome.”

She pointed a finger at me. “Not. A. Word.”

“Sure,” I mumbled, very much not sure.

Once the blush had faded enough for her to focus, she pulled two mugs toward us. The hot chocolate here wasn’t messing around, topped with a ridiculous tower of whipped cream, chocolate drizzle, and a candy cane stuck in the side like a flag of conquest.

“This is the research?” I asked.

“Yes. Well... part of it.” She pulled a small stack of books from a hand bag and set them between us.
“It’s for the café’s Christmas event. We’re also doing a reading corner, so I wanted to test the vibe.”

I flipped one open. “So we’re… just gonna read?”

“Yes.”

“…In public?”

“Yes.”

“…Together?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“…Nope.” I sipped my hot chocolate. “Lead the way, Chief.”

Somewhere between chapter two of a winter short story and chapter four of another, I realized the café had gone almost silent except for the occasional clink of mugs. The fireplace popped softly in the corner. The snow outside had gotten heavier.

I looked at Airi.

Her hair caught the firelight. She was leaning forward slightly, completely absorbed in the book, lips moving faintly as she read.

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been staring before she noticed.

“…What?” she asked, glancing up.

“Nothing. Just… you’ve got whipped cream on your nose.”

Her eyes widened. She swiped at it with her sleeve, which only made it worse.

“…Still there,” I said.

She gave me a suspicious look before grabbing a napkin and wiping her face properly. “…You could’ve said that earlier.”

“I was enjoying the view.”

She blinked, then froze.

There it was... the faint pink showing up at her ears. “…You’re insufferable.”

We eventually finished the story, She closed the book with a soft thump and leaned back in her seat, watching the snow.

“…Next year,” she said softly, “let’s come back here again. Same day. Same time.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That’s a pretty long term reservation.”

“I’m serious.”

Her tone caught me off guard. No teasing, no sarcasm just… sincerity?

I nodded slowly. “Then… next year. Same day, same time.”

She smiled, a small but soft one. “It’s a promise then.”

I don’t know what possessed me, but I leaned forward slightly. “I don’t break promises.”

Her eyes locked on to mine, then away.
That blush was back, just barely. “…You’d better not.”

We left just as the street lamps lit up, painting the snow in a warm golden glow.
The whole street looked like it had been stolen from a Christmas card.
Fairy lights zigzagging overhead, the smell of roasted chestnuts drifting from a nearby stall, and faint carols playing from somewhere we couldn’t see.

The cold hit instantly, Our breath came out in little clouds, and Airi shoved her hands deep into her coat pockets.

That’s when I noticed her hands... no gloves.

“Where are your gloves?” I asked.

She looked away. “…Forgot them.”

I sighed, pulling mine off and holding them out. “Here.”

She blinked at me like I’d just handed her a winning lottery ticket. “…What about you?”

“I’m fine.” I shoved my now freezing hands into my pockets. “Besides, they look better on you.”

Her cheeks went pink, from the wind? Who knows.
she muttered, softly “…Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” I grinned. “Seriously. Don’t. I have a reputation to uphold.”

That earned me a short, startled laugh, the kind that felt like it slipped out before she could stop it.

“You’re terrible,” she said, still smiling.

“Yeah,” I replied, looking at her. “But I keep my promises.”

She didn’t answer, but her steps fell in just a little closer to mine, close enough that our shoulders brushed as we walked under the lights.

Yuuji’s Mental Diary – Day 36

Airi Status: Accidentally called me her boyfriend… allegedly.
Mental State: Spiraling like a Christmas tree topper in a windstorm.
Hot Chocolate Quality: 12/10. Whipped cream physics should be studied.
Suspicion Level: Medium High. “Research” may actually be an elaborate plot.
Notable Events:

1. Waiter nearly killed me with one casual comment.

2. Gave her my gloves. Fingers are now popsicles. Worth it? Yes.

3. Accidentally flirted. Accidentally got a blush. Accidentally… might do it again.

Game Plan: Survive until next year’s promised meeting without dying of embarrassment.