"I received an NTR video accompanied by the message, 'Boyfriend, are you watching? lol.' In response, I sent back a clip of me and someone flirting, along with the message, 'Loser, are you watching? lol.'" - Episode 4

There’s a small, old bookstore not far from our school, run by a woman in her 80s.
I’ve visited a few times before, and for some reason, she’s taken quite a liking to me.
“Yujiro Enjo, would you like some tea today?”
It was a pleasant afternoon after school. I stopped by the bookstore and found myself chatting with the owner again.
The shop is cozy—barely enough space for ten people.
Behind the register is a small, six-tatami mat room, where she always invites me to sit and have tea.
I took a seat by the entrance to the tatami room, and she handed me a steaming cup.
“Thank you.”
“As long as you’re happy, Yujiro Enjo, that’s all that matters.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask—why do you like me so much?”
She went silent, gazing up at the ceiling as if searching for the answer.
I quietly sipped my tea, waiting.
“Well… my husband’s gone, and I only see my children a few times a year. So, when my sweet little Yujiro Enjo drops by, it really makes me happy.”
“If that’s all it takes, wouldn’t anyone do?”
“No. It has to be you, Yujiro Enjo. Your name… it reminds me of my favorite actor.”
Huh, I never thought much about my name before. I’ve always liked it, but it’s nice to hear it means something to someone else.
The first time she saw my name was when I reserved a book here. I’ve bought several books since then—partly because I wanted to support her shop.
Ever since, she treated me warmly, like a grandchild. Maybe she really means it.
“And you’re the younger one too, right? That child…”
“I guess so. But this tea really is delicious.”
There’s a certain comfort in this place. Like sitting on a porch and sipping tea with your grandmother.
I’ve come to really appreciate the store’s quiet atmosphere.
“Ah, it really is good.”
“Um… Yujiro? What are you doing?”
Kawashima suddenly appeared, looking surprised to see me so relaxed, sipping tea.
“Oh, is that your girlfriend?” the old lady asked.
“No, just a friend. A fellow gamer.”
“Oh, Yujiro Enjo has a friend! That makes me so happy.”
“What kind of relationship do you two have?” Kawashima asked suspiciously.
“Customer and shopkeeper,” I replied.
“Yes, that’s right,” the old woman nodded. “But to me, he’s like a grandson.”
We shared a warm laugh. Kawashima, meanwhile, looked totally confused.
“Would you like some tea too?”
“Um, no thank you.”
“You didn’t have to reject it that bluntly…”
The shopkeeper looked visibly disheartened, like her feelings had been brushed aside.
“It’s not that. She’s a bit of a germaphobe. Probably doesn’t like drinking from cups others have used.”
“Is that so?”
“Huh… how’d you know that?”
“You just seem like the type. I figured stuff like that would bother you.”
“…Netori never even considers that kind of thing,” Kawashima muttered.
“Ha! Then breaking up might really be for the best. Little things like that can pile up until they explode.”
Kawashima gave a small, thoughtful nod.
The shopkeeper handed her a paper cup instead.
“Would this be alright?”
“Oh, thank you. Sorry for the trouble.”
As she tried sipping the hot tea, she winced, leaning back and sticking out her tongue from the heat.
It was kind of adorable.
“I can blow on it for you.”
“N-no! I don’t want your saliva anywhere near it!”
I laughed, and she started cooling the tea herself, clearly flustered.
Everything she did was oddly charming—like a nervous little animal.
I couldn’t help but watch with a smile.
“Wh-what?”
“Nothing. Just thinking.”
“If you’ve got something to say, spit it out.”
“You’re just cute.”
“You’re saying that again?! Don’t joke like that!”
“I’m not joking. I mean it.”
“Ugh…”
Her face turned bright red. She tried to hide it behind her cup, but the tea was still hot.
Still cute.
“We should probably get going,” she muttered. “We’re wasting time.”
“Even time like this is important, don’t you think?”
“That’s right,” the shopkeeper chimed in. “Spending quiet moments with people you care about makes life richer.”
“A richer life, huh…”
I’ve always thought that wasting time every now and then is part of what makes life meaningful.
Kawashima seemed to be quietly reflecting on the words, as if they’d struck a chord.
“Well, let’s go,” I said, standing up. “Wouldn’t want to linger too long.”
“Yeah, let’s.”
“Oh, Yujiro! A new volume of that manga you like is coming in soon. Shall I reserve it?”
“Yes, please. I’ll be back.”
“Alright. Take care, dear.”
We left the shop together. Kawashima glanced sideways at me.
“That manga you mentioned earlier—what kind is it?”
“Oh, it’s a romance. I’ve been really into it lately.”
“Huh. I haven’t read much manga. Is it that interesting?”
She hasn’t read manga? What kind of life has she led?
“I don’t know. Depends on your taste. But I’ll lend it to you—give it a try.”
“…Okay. Please do.”
She hesitated, then agreed.
Next time, I’ll bring her a copy.
I hope she likes it.
Funny… this’ll be my first time lending someone a manga.
Megumi and I sometimes talk about manga, but we’ve never actually exchanged any.
“Yujiro.”
“Yeah?”
“Your name’s Yujiro Enjo, right?”
“Right. And you’re Kawashima—Hoshina Kawashima, wasn’t it?”
“Yep. Did I ever tell you?”
“You’re kind of famous. Me, not so much—so I doubt you knew mine.”
“Yeah…”
Wow, she just said it straight like that.
It doesn’t hurt or anything, but still, she didn’t have to be that blunt.
“Can I call you Yujiro from now on?”
“Sure. Doesn’t bother me. Then, can I call you Shimakawa?”
“Eh? What kind of nickname is that? I don’t like it.”
“Then Kawashima it is.”
“…You can call me by my first name if you want.”
She said it while brushing her hair aside with her fingers.
“Then I’ll call you by your first name—Hoshina.”
“What is it, Yujiro?”
“Nothing, Hoshina.”
“Could you not say my name so much, Yujiro?”
“Isn’t it mutual?”
She laughed.
That laugh was the cutest thing yet.
Maybe I’ll secretly take a photo of her later.
As I was thinking that, a car came up from behind, dangerously close—right next to Hoshina.
Instinctively, I reached out.
“Watch out!”
“Huh?”
I grabbed her arm.
I thought about pulling her into a hug but remembered her germaphobia.
Instead, I pulled her gently, trying not to touch her more than necessary.
“Are you okay?”
The car sped off as if nothing had happened.
That was close.
“…”
“Sorry. I know you don’t like being touched.”
But Hoshina just shook her head, eyes wide.
“I didn’t mind… I wonder why.”
“That’s… I wouldn’t know.”
She looked up at me, her wide eyes sparkling under the light.
It was such a beautiful moment, I nearly reached for my phone.
Then a voice called out—
“Oh, isn’t that Hoshina?”
“Huh… Imamura.”
We turned toward the sound.
A flashy-looking boy from another school was walking toward us.
Hoshina’s expression shifted.
She looked troubled—like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to see him.
Who is this guy?
I hope this doesn’t turn into a problem.