# CHAPTER 1: The Regular

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The morning rush at Moonbeam Coffee was finally dying down when Sakura Miyamoto noticed him again.

He sat in the corner booth—the same one as always—with a black coffee and a newspaper. Actual newspaper. Who even read those anymore? His dark hair fell across his face as he read, and he hadn't looked up once in the thirty minutes he'd been there.

"You're staring again," her coworker Jenny said, wiping down the espresso machine.

"I'm not staring. I'm observing." Sakura tied her brown hair back into a fresh ponytail. "There's a difference."

"Uh-huh. And what have your observations concluded, Detective Miyamoto?"

Sakura leaned against the counter, studying the mysterious corner-booth regular. He wore all black again—jacket, shirt, jeans. Like he was afraid color might reveal something about his personality. "He's been coming here every Tuesday and Thursday for two months. Always black coffee, no sugar. Always the corner booth. Always alone."

"Maybe he likes being alone."

"Nobody likes being alone." Sakura grabbed a blueberry muffin from the case. "He looks lonely."

"Oh no." Jenny's eyes widened. "Sakura, no. Don't do the thing."

"What thing?"

"The thing where you decide someone needs a friend and you won't leave them alone until they accept it."

"I don't do that."

Jenny raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, I did that with you, but look how well that turned out! We're best friends now."

"You wore me down through sheer persistence."

"Exactly!" Sakura grabbed the muffin and a fresh cup of coffee. "It's my superpower."

Before Jenny could protest, Sakura was already weaving through the tables toward the corner booth. Her heart did that annoying flutter thing it always did when she was about to do something potentially embarrassing. Which was often.

Up close, he was even more intimidating. Tall—she could tell even with him sitting down. Sharp jawline. The kind of intense eyes that actually looked like they could see through you. He had a scar on his left hand, she noticed, and the way he held his coffee suggested he was left-handed.

Stop overthinking. Just be normal.

"Hi!" She set the muffin and coffee down on his table with perhaps too much enthusiasm. The coffee sloshed slightly. "I'm Sakura. I work here. Well, obviously I work here, you've seen me here for two months, not that I've been watching you or anything, that would be creepy, I just notice patterns and—"

He looked up at her. His eyes were dark gray, like storm clouds, and completely unreadable.

Sakura's brain short-circuited for half a second before rebooting. "Anyway! You always get the same thing, so I thought maybe you'd like to try something new? The blueberry muffins are amazing, and I upgraded you to a medium coffee because I think the small is too small for someone your size—not that you're huge or anything, just, you know, proportionally—"

"I didn't order this." His voice was deep, quiet, and somehow made her rambling seem even louder by comparison.

"I know! It's on the house. Consider it a customer appreciation gift."

"I don't want it."

Sakura blinked. She'd prepared for polite acceptance or awkward thanks, but flat-out rejection? Her overthinking brain scrambled for a response. "Oh. Okay. Um. Are you allergic to blueberries? Because we have chocolate chip, or banana nut, or—"

"I'm not hungry."

"Right. Of course." She should leave. Normal people would leave. "It's just, you've been coming here for a while, and I thought maybe we could be friends? I'm new to the city and don't know many people, and you seem like you keep to yourself, so I figured maybe you don't know many people either, and—"

"I keep to myself on purpose."

Ouch. Sakura felt her cheeks heat. "Oh. Right. Sorry. I'll just—" She reached for the muffin and coffee.

His hand shot out, stopping just short of touching hers. "Leave it."

She froze. His hand was scarred—she could see it clearly now. Multiple scars, old and new, across his knuckles and fingers. Fighter's hands.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, something flickered across his face. Annoyance? Resignation? It was gone before she could identify it.

"The muffin," he clarified, pulling his hand back. "You can leave it."

"But you said—"

"It would be wasteful to throw it away."

Sakura's face broke into a grin before she could stop it. It wasn't exactly friendship, but it wasn't complete rejection either. "So you'll eat it?"

"I didn't say that."

"But you might?"

The corner of his mouth twitched. It might have been annoyance. It might have been the ghost of a smile. She chose to believe the latter.

"What's your name?" she asked.

He stared at her for a long moment, like he was calculating whether answering would encourage her. Finally: "Tamotsu."

"Tamotsu." She tested the name, liked the way it felt. "That's a great name. Strong. Mysterious. Fits you perfectly."

"Are you always this exhausting?"

"Pretty much! But people say it's charming once you get used to it."

"I don't plan to get used to it."

"That's what Jenny said too. She's my best friend now." Sakura gestured toward the counter where Jenny was watching with barely concealed amusement. "Give it two weeks. You'll come around."

"I won't."

"We'll see!" She started backing away before he could crush her hope further. "Enjoy the muffin, Tamotsu. See you Thursday!"

She spun around and nearly crashed into a businessman, apologized profusely, and hurried back to the counter where Jenny was shaking her head.

"How'd it go?" Jenny asked.

"He told me I'm exhausting."

"Accurate."

"But he told me his name!" Sakura couldn't keep the excitement out of her voice. "And he's keeping the muffin."

"He's going to throw it away the second you're not looking."

"He might not."

"Sakura—"

"He might not!" She grabbed a rag and started wiping down tables, energy renewed. "You'll see. Thursday, I'll bring him something else. Maybe a scone. Does he look like a scone person?"

"He looks like a 'please leave me alone' person."

But when Sakura glanced back at the corner booth, Tamotsu was breaking off a piece of the muffin. He caught her looking and immediately stopped, his expression darkening.

Sakura turned away, hiding her smile.

Thursday couldn't come fast enough.

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