Chapter Nine: An Unexpected Delight
The piece An He played on the piano wasn’t a famous classic, but rather the theme, “Zenzenzense,” from the anime “Your Name,” which he had watched in his previous life.
He chose this piece not only because of his personal fondness for it, but more importantly because it naturally carried a cheerful and light-hearted air.
He thought it was the most fitting to play this for Sayu Amamiya at this moment.
Since he hadn’t touched the piano in years, An He, not wanting to embarrass himself, had just invested half of the twenty skill points he’d received that morning into his piano skill. As a result, his piano proficiency was now at the master level—on par with his highest skill, painting.
When the piece ended, the small café was silent for a brief moment before a flurry of applause broke out, accompanied by cheers from several young women.
Seeing this, An He had no choice but to rise and bow in thanks.
[Watching the audience’s reaction, you can’t help but sneer inwardly. Such a simple trick, and these girls are utterly captivated. Still, this suits your intentions well. You’re sure that with just a hint, an eager young lady would soon invite you to her home…]
But could any of them compare with Sayu Amamiya?
An He curled his lip in disdain at the narrator’s sense of aesthetics.
After exchanging a few words with the enthusiastic maid, An He returned to Sayu Amamiya’s side.
No sooner had he sat down than Sayu Amamiya looked at him with curiosity.
“You can play the piano too.”
“I know a little,” An He replied modestly, though the pride on his face was impossible to conceal. He was just short of declaring, “Yes, I’m a piano master—go ahead and praise me.”
Sayu Amamiya pressed her lips together, asked no more, and lowered her head to eat her pizza.
Woman, are you playing hard to get?
An He wanted to say this, but he knew Sayu Amamiya’s character well enough, so he simply composed himself, eating his ice cream while admiring her delicate features.
It had to be said, Sayu Amamiya really was beautiful. Even after a day without food, she ate slowly and gracefully, like a kitten.
As he watched, An He’s gaze unconsciously drifted to her rosy lips.
Remembering their kiss that morning, he involuntarily pressed his own lips together.
Sensing his gaze and movement, Sayu Amamiya paused mid-bite, but soon resumed as if nothing had happened.
At that moment, the sound of high heels approached.
An He glanced back curiously to see a middle-aged woman in a business suit, about forty years old, approaching.
“Hello, sir,” she greeted politely, drawing a business card from her breast pocket and handing it to him. “I’m Haruki Sato, the manager of this café.”
An He accepted the card but didn’t look at it immediately. He introduced himself, then smiled at Haruki Sato and asked, “Is there something I can help you with, Miss Sato?”
Seeing that he accepted the card without displeasure, Haruki Sato’s eyes flickered and she smiled, explaining:
“It’s like this, sir. I just heard your piano performance and enjoyed it greatly. As it happens, our café has been lacking a pianist, so…”
She didn’t finish, but her meaning was clear to anyone.
Hearing her offer, An He’s smile deepened.
Talk about a pillow delivered right when you need a nap.
He’d been planning to look for a new job anyway; who’d have thought that simply playing the piano would bring one straight to him?
Still, An He wasn’t hasty. He was in the driver’s seat now, and he intended to negotiate the best terms.
He immediately put on a troubled expression. “But I’m still a student, and I already have a part-time job.”
Haruki Sato, a veteran of the working world, saw right through his act but showed no sign of it. Instead, she smiled warmly.
“You can always change jobs. After all, what could be easier than doing something you love? As for your studies, that’s not a problem. Cafés are usually open from afternoon to evening, so you’d only need to be here by six.”
Old fox—already assuming I’ll start before I’ve even agreed?
Though An He thought this, he kept up the conflicted act.
Haruki Sato raised her brow, silently cursing the young fox before speaking again.
“Are you worried about the pay, Mr. An He?”
He put on a look of “How did you know?” and scratched his head, explaining, “My current job pays pretty well…”
He hadn’t finished when Haruki Sato named a figure.
“Four thousand.”
Seeing him look up, she gritted her teeth, remembering the words of a certain important person before continuing, “Four thousand yen per hour. What do you say, Mr. An He?”
At this, the last of his hesitation vanished. An honest smile bloomed on his face, and he stood, extending his hand to Haruki Sato. “I look forward to working with you.”
“I look forward to working with you as well, An He,” she replied, shaking his hand.
They chatted a while longer, and once they confirmed he would start the next day, Haruki Sato finally took her leave.
Watching her retreat, An He felt especially pleased. Four thousand yen was five times his convenience store wage.
But in the next instant, the narrator in his mind doused him with cold water.
[Though she hid it well, with your insight you could tell—she’s up to something. It seems there’s some secret plot afoot. You narrow your eyes, deciding to play along and wait until you’ve uncovered her intentions before making your move. By the way, the third locker from the left on the top row in the changing room is hers. She may be older, but with that figure—and those toys…]
What?
What’s with this talk of conspiracy? Why didn’t I see it?
An He was bewildered.
The narrator might be unreliable, but when it came to information, it was usually spot on.
So An He took note that there might indeed be something fishy about her.
“She can’t be after my body, can she?” he wondered, shivering at the thought of her age.
Just then, something warm and fragrant—a red scarf, soft with a hint of a girl’s scent—was wrapped around his neck.
“?”
An He looked, puzzled, at Sayu Amamiya, who had just withdrawn her hand. She pressed her lips together and said quietly, “I saw you shivering from the cold.”
With that, she turned away, focusing on her meal.
An He felt a gentle warmth inside, a smile spreading across his face.
[Name: Sayu Amamiya]
[Current status: Girl beneath the street lamp (She has found the light, and hopes the light will notice her)]
[Current affection: 52 (Confidant)—Note: You have quietly entered her heart.]
…
Meanwhile,
In another corner of the café.
A moment ago, Haruki Sato had carried the air of an elite professional. Now she stood with her head bowed, back bent, as still as a dog awaiting its master’s touch.
Before her stood an extraordinarily beautiful woman, dressed in a black yukata, her long hair coiled atop her head.
The woman was stunning—skin like snow, lips like cherry blossoms, her eyes so entrancing they seemed to steal souls, with a beauty mark at the corner of one eye adding a hint of allure.
Yet, in this café, not a soul dared look her in the eye. Not even to steal a glance.
The reason was clear: the icy aura she radiated, and the black-clad bodyguards stationed around her.
“Did he agree?” the woman asked, lifting her coffee and blowing gently on it.
“Yes, madam,” Haruki Sato replied at once. “The boy agreed—he will come every evening from now on.”
The woman gave a satisfied nod, parted her red lips to take a sip of coffee, set the cup down, and rose to her feet.
“Reserve this seat for me from now on.”
Her gaze lingered a moment on the piano An He had played, then she added, “Tell him—if he has any more pieces like the one before, he should play them all.”
She raised a hand to rub her temple, her tone weary. “Some members of the group have been unruly lately. Their clamor is giving me a headache.”
Haruki Sato bowed at once, while the bodyguards exchanged glances.
The woman departed, and only when her limousine had vanished from sight did Haruki Sato dare to lift her head.
Watching the distant car, she sighed in resignation, recalling her lady’s final words.
“Looks like Tokyo Bay will have a few more barrels of cement tonight.”