Volume 1 – Chapter 8

In a quiet lane not far from the station, behind a window full of soft fur and pastel letters spelling NekoNeko Café, the sound of purring replaced the city’s noise. Time seemed to slow down there, flowing gentler, calmer.

Mirai stepped inside carefully, as if entering a sacred place. She still held onto Senpai’s sleeve, afraid to lose him in the small crowd – though deep down, she knew that as long as he was near, there was nothing to fear.

The café looked like something from her dreams – light wooden floors, low tables, cushions on tatami mats, and, of course, cats everywhere. White, gray, fluffy, sleepy, playful. One of them immediately padded over to her and rubbed its nose against her knee.

– Oh… you noticed I’m cute right away, huh? – she laughed softly, sitting down on a cushion.

Senpai smiled, watching her gently stroke the cat’s ear as it closed its eyes in bliss. He sat across from her and ordered two cups of tea with toast and strawberry jam.

– You know, – Mirai said, following the movements of a ginger cat on the shelf, – I’ve always dreamed of having a cat. But I’m afraid I wouldn’t make a good owner… I work too much.

– I think you’d be the most caring owner, – Senpai replied. – Look, that one’s already asleep on your lap.

– That’s only because I’m soft, like a pillow, – she said with a small grin, though her eyes sparkled.

Then came tea, strawberry toast, and laughter. They played with the cats, gave them ridiculous names – one became SuperDonut, another Murmurin, and the lazy one in the corner was dubbed Poops Lapoops.

They sat there as if sealed off from the rest of the world. They laughed, competed in making up even sillier names, reminisced about funny moments from streams, quoted chat jokes, and tried to outdo each other’s punchlines.

The air felt light, open, sincere – every glance, every slip of laughter built something fragile and real.

Mirai laughed freely, without restraint – a rare, honest kind of joy she hadn’t felt in a long time. Hours disappeared unnoticed. When she finally glanced at her phone, three hours had passed – though it felt like they’d only just sat down.

After a while, Mirai went to the restroom. She washed her hands, glanced at her reflection – and her chest tightened.

Does he really like me?

Does he see me as someone special, or just a friend from the streaming world?

Her reflection seemed painfully plain – short, with glasses, no makeup, no trendy hairstyle, just a simple outfit. Nothing like the bright, confident avatar Marissa that fans adored.

Maybe he’s disappointed already… and just being polite, she thought, lowering her gaze.

She clenched her fists, exhaled sharply. Enough. I can’t make him wait any longer.

When she returned, Senpai was pouring tea and smiled brightly:

– Ah, there you are – reinforcements have arrived!

But his expression changed the moment he saw her face. Her smile had faded, her eyes looked dim.

– Hey… – he said gently. – Did I say something wrong? You look upset.

Mirai shook her head quickly, then looked down. Her lips trembled.

– No… no, it’s not you… It’s me.

Tears welled up suddenly. She covered her face with her hands.

– You’re too kind… too attentive… I just… I’m scared that you’ve seen the real me and felt disappointed. That I’m too plain, too ordinary.

Senpai didn’t rush to answer. He reached out and took her hand carefully – his palm warm, steady, reassuring.

– Marissa… – he said quietly, his eyes steady. – Don’t imagine things that aren’t there. I’m not disappointed – not even a little. If anything, you turned out even more amazing than I’d expected.

Mirai sniffled, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

– Really?.. – she whispered.

– Absolutely, – he nodded.

– Look at me, – he said softly.

She lifted her gaze – red-eyed, teary, but deeply sincere.

– The truth is, – he continued, squeezing her hand slightly, – you’re one of the most extraordinary girls I’ve ever met. You might not realize it, but your streams… they’re not just entertainment. They’re a kind of therapy.

– Therapy?.. – she blinked.

– Yes, – he smiled faintly. – You make people laugh when they’ve forgotten how to. You say “Ahoy, crew!”, and someone, somewhere, smiles for the first time that day. You read their messages – “thank you,” “you helped me,” “it got a little brighter” – and you think it’s nothing, but it’s not. You reach people. You’ve helped many. You even helped me. On days when I felt lost or lonely… you were there. Even from the other side of the screen.

He paused, his voice turning quieter.

– And today, without your pirate hat, without the bold jokes – you’re still the same. Kind, alive, genuine. I just wanted you to know that.

Mirai’s eyes widened, tears glimmering again – but this time they were soft, warm. She nodded silently, leaning closer, her forehead nearly touching his hand.

How can someone be like this? she thought. I’m just a girl who loves to make people smile… but he…

– Thank you… – she whispered.

– I only said what you refuse to believe, – he answered gently, brushing his thumb across her fingers.

The tension melted. They finished their dessert, played with the cats again, and finally stood to leave.

At the door, Senpai smiled:

– This was wonderful.

– Yes! – Mirai blurted out too loudly, startling even herself.

They laughed together.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box wrapped in sea-patterned paper and tied with a golden ribbon.

– I’ve been meaning to give you this. Thought about sending it through the agency, but… today felt right.

She unwrapped it and gasped softly. Inside was a delicate silver hair clip shaped like a pirate ship, with a tiny blue gem embedded in the sail – shimmering like the ocean.

– It’s… – she started but couldn’t finish.

– A reminder that you’re the captain – even when you’re unsure.

She turned away slightly, pretending to examine the gift – really just hiding the tears that welled in her eyes again.

He’s too kind. Too perfect. Too… right.

Mirai looked back at him, her voice trembling slightly.

– Thank you… Could you… put it on me?

– Of course, – he said softly.

He brushed a few strands behind her ear and clipped the pin gently into place.

– It suits you perfectly, – he murmured.

She froze. The world shrank to that single touch, that single heartbeat. A quiet smile trembled on her lips.

If this is a dream… please don’t let me wake up.

But the thought of parting struck her suddenly, and her chest tightened again.

I don’t want this to end. If I let him go now, maybe I’ll never see him again.

She took a breath, her voice shaking slightly.

– I know the agency told you not to take photos, or ask for my real name, or exchange contacts… but… I don’t want this to be our only date. I want there to be more. If you want that too…

She trailed off, twisting a lock of hair nervously.

Senpai smiled softly. His voice was calm, certain.

– I do. I’d love to.

Her eyes lit up.

– Really? Truly?

– Absolutely, – he said with a grin.

Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest.

– I just don’t want you to get in trouble with your agency, Marissa, – he added gently.

She quickly shook her head.

– No, it’s fine. And… my real name is Mirai.

He paused for a moment – then his smile deepened.

– Mirai. What a beautiful name… I’m Yuta. Nice to finally meet you properly.

She clasped her hands near her chest, whispering softly:

– Yuta… Yuta-senpai.

– You can call me however you like, – he said warmly. – I might be a few years older, after all.

Mirai gathered her courage, smiling shyly.

– Since the cat café was your idea… I’ll plan our next date.

– Deal, – he agreed without hesitation.

They exchanged contacts. The air between them was light, glowing – as if the whole city had quietly blessed their meeting.

Before parting, Yuta handed her one more small box – long and slender, like a jewelry case.

– For you. There’s a secret inside. But read it only when it’s quiet. When you can feel it.

– Huh? O-okay… – she said, taking it with trembling hands.

– Thank you, for today. For everything. I’ll be waiting for our next date, – he said.

Their eyes met – warm, shy, full of something unspoken. And then they parted, not because they wanted to, but because sometimes words are simply unnecessary.

…

That evening, in her softly lit room, Mirai opened the box. Inside was a tiny glass vial sealed with a cork – and a rolled-up note inside.

Her heart pounded as she pulled it out carefully with tweezers.

The handwriting was neat, gentle, alive.

You matter to many people. And I’m one of them. Always.

Mirai pressed the note to her chest. Her lips trembled, her eyes filled again with tears – but now they were pure joy. She hugged the pendant close, whispering through a shaky smile:

– How… how can someone be this wonderful?..

Then she opened her phone.

Thank you for today. I’m still smiling.

Sent.

Oh… time for sleep.

She lay down, the pendant in her hands, and thought softly –

In this vast, noisy world… I finally found someone I never want to lose.