Coffee Shop

The vine-wreathed coffee shop stood in a corner on the outskirts of Changkong City. Two pots of greenery sat on either side of the entrance. There was no franchise brand hanging outside; its name was simply carved into a wooden sign, upon which were written two neatly printed Shenzhou characters.

Qing'an.

The green hills remained as ever; old friends were safe and well.

It was Su Qing'an's name. Su Qing'an had never imagined that one day, his name would be used as the name of a coffee shop. Maybe the owner had simply been too lazy to think of anything else. He tried to make himself accept that explanation—accept this world's Su Qing'an.

If not for the little board outside listing all kinds of coffee, Su Qing'an probably would not have recognized it as a coffee shop at first glance. The storefront had a retro European style, and through the reinforced glass doors, he could see part of the interior.

Kiana stood prettily before him and expertly pulled out a key from her bag. Her long legs beneath her short skirt were bare, without stockings; her fair skin, exposed to the air, was as eye-catching as the slender, well-proportioned shape of her legs.

Su Qing'an kept his gaze fixed on the two characters "Qing'an" on the wooden sign. Under normal circumstances, he would probably have seriously examined Kiana's long legs, expressionlessly assigned them a score in his heart, and then kept looking until the end of time.

But the current Su Qing'an had no thoughts beyond realizing that Kiana really did work for him.

"Does any of this seem familiar?" Kiana asked as she opened the front door and looked back at him.

"Other than the shop name, not at all. I just didn't expect that I'd one day open a coffee shop."

In truth, he had once entertained the idea of opening a coffee shop. During his quiet and withdrawn middle school years, it had been one of the possible futures he imagined whenever his mind wandered during class. Back then, he thought being a coffee shop owner was an artistic and leisurely sort of job.

Making coffee for strangers during warm afternoons, sipping its bitterness while reading paper books in his free time, Listening To customers' conversations and the melodious strains of jazz—living day after day like that would not have been a bad way to spend a life.

Su Qing'an felt a sense of disorientation and strangeness. The changes in the world, another version of himself, yesterday's fantasy and today's reality—he did not know how his circumstances ought to be judged.

At his answer, Kiana revealed a complicated expression, one of helplessness but also seeming relief.

"Manager, you're always this awkward, no matter when it is. Even now, when you've got amnesia, you're still like this. Is that some kind of strange bad habit?"

"Wouldn't that count as a cute trait on a girl?" Su Qing'an replied casually as he walked into the coffee shop. Politely, he pulled the door shut behind him and flipped the sign hanging on it from Open to its reverse side.

"Even If a woman is too awkward, that isn't a good thing, you know. You should understand that better than I do, Manager," Kiana said, glancing expressionlessly at Su Qing'an. "After all, there are lots of people in this world who don't understand romance."

"I think girls sometimes don't even understand themselves, yet they expect others to understand things they cannot understand themselves. That's inherently unreasonable," Su Qing'an argued seriously.

"...Manager, that attitude of yours is exactly what it means to not understand romance." Kiana pressed a hand to her forehead, speechless.

Su Qing'an said nothing. If he seriously started explaining his reasoning at a moment like this, it would probably be even more unbearable than not understanding romance.

The café's interior gave off a bright impression. The composite wooden flooring was clean and tidy, and Most of the walls consisted of reinforced glass. Sunlight streamed through it onto the metal, carved coffee tables, making time itself seem languid.

The ceiling was pure white and easily reflected light. The European-style chandeliers were ornate, while the matching tables and chairs were arranged in neat order. Compared To an ordinary coffee shop, there were relatively few decorations here. Aside from rows of bookshelves scattered throughout every corner, only several small potted plants adorned the place.

A spiral staircase stood in the center of the café. Looking upward, Su Qing'an could see a tightly shut door. It was an odd and peculiar arrangement. He guessed that it was probably where the other him slept—his private residence.

Kiana took a menu from the counter and handed it to Su Qing'an.

"Would you like a long-awaited cup of coffee mixed by Young Miss me?" She flashed a confident smile, her charm especially dazzling beneath the sunlight.

"Though you taught me the technique, in Shenzhou terms, I think I've already surpassed my teacher."

Su Qing'an took the menu. Coffee shop menus were generally made with great care and looked quite exquisite, but this one was so simple it did not even have decorative patterns. Opening the cover Printed with the characters Qing'an, he saw coffee names annotated in English and Japanese against a pure white background.

Caffè Mocha Mocha Coffee

Caramel Macchiato Caramel Macchiato

Caffè Americano American Coffee

Caffè Latte Latte

"Coffee... I'll have a mocha." Su Qing'an did not refuse Kiana's kindness.

Though the divine power had freed his body from its negative condition, he was mentally exhausted.

He needed a cup of coffee to perk himself up before he could better gather information and analyze the situation.

At the same time, he was curious what sort of mocha Kiana could make.

If the Kiana he knew from the game's story was a clumsy, tsundere, foolishly adorable tuna, then the Kiana before him gave him the impression of a gentle and kind beautiful girl.

Whether it was her sense of restraint in joking or the way she handled his strange situation, Kiana made Su Qing'an feel that it was truly wonderful that she was not the tuna from the game. That heartfelt relief made him even more curious about her.

For example, was she still that unreasonable kitchen disaster? If she was, then the only jobs Kiana could probably apply for here would be cleaning or cashier work.

"Mocha? That's a kind of coffee girls tend to like. Does the Manager want to taste the flavor of love too?" Kiana winked her large eyes playfully, speaking in a teasing tone.

Legend had it that mocha existed to let people understand love's beauty and twists and turns, and to tell them how simple happiness could be.

A true mocha was both sour and sweet, as though highlighting love's meaning. That was why Kiana made such a joke. Someone who knew nothing about mocha would probably be utterly confused by it.

But Su Qing'an understood, and so a knowing smile appeared on his face. Having someone guess why he had chosen a particular coffee was something to be happy about. With this intelligence, I'm starting to suspect the Girl in front of me is the real Kiana.

"That's right. Then I'll have to trouble Young Miss Kiana to let me taste the flavor of love."

"Then let me show the Manager what I can do for once." Kiana placed her shoulder bag on a coffee chair and entered the small room behind the counter.

On this warm, sunny morning, the café, with only the two of them inside, completely swept away the youth's restlessness and unease. The future outbreak of Honkai and the destruction of the world could not disturb this languid, tranquil moment.

Can't find the book by its title? Try searching for the author instead—it may have simply been renamed!

At least, until he finished this mocha, he forgot all the distracting thoughts lingering in his mind. Su Qing'an looked at the rainbow light refracted by the sunlight across the pure white menu, peaceful and silent.

The quality of a cup of coffee depended not only on the barista's skill; more importantly, it depended on the careful preparation of the ingredients. The roasting time, selection, and sorting of the coffee beans, as well as the temperature and quality of the fresh milk, were all important factors that determined its flavor.

In the end, he was not this world's Su Qing'an—the one who had matured enough to open a coffee shop himself. The current him could only be said to have a slight understanding of coffee culture: a half-baked coffee enthusiast who was not quite a total novice.

So when Kiana served the coffee and stared expectantly at his face with her azure eyes, he had no evaluation beyond the eye-roll-inducing words, "It's good."

Su Qing'an set down the empty cup, savoring the lingering chocolate aftertaste and the not-so-gentle aroma of alcohol in his mouth. Silently, he removed the "culinary disaster" label from Kiana's character profile.

Compared to those experts who could meticulously analyze a coffee's acidity, sweetness, bitterness, balance, mouthfeel, and flavor with great authority, Su Qing'an's assessment was indeed rather shallow.

"I thought you'd say something like, 'The water temperature was a few degrees too high, throwing off the acidity. Unqualified.'"

Kiana teased him just as she had before, but she had clearly sensed an enormous difference.

Even if they were both Su Qing'an, with the same personality and thought process, the knowledge and abilities they possessed would still differ because of their different experiences. Perhaps the excuse of amnesia could cover it up, but the sense of discord was undeniably there.

Yet the sharp instincts engraved in her blood and her own intuition both told her that the person before her was undoubtedly Su Qing'an. That left Kiana somewhat confused.

"The flavor is unexpectedly authentic. This coffee shop is strange—despite being near a girls' academy, it uses these unpopular and labor-intensive Yemen coffee beans. Isn't that completely disregarding its customers in favor of the owner's own preferences?"

Most mochas sold in coffee shops did not use Yemen coffee beans. Instead, they added chocolate syrup. Compared to the spicy, liquor-like flavor of Yemen coffee beans, plain chocolate flavor was clearly more popular among high school girls, and it also saved on cost and time.

The café's style had exuded a sense of casual simplicity from the very beginning. To put it bluntly, the owner simply could not be bothered to put much thought into it. Yet in this regard, the place was strangely meticulous.

"That's just how the manager is. He always cuts corners where he should be paying attention, yet gets serious over the strangest things."

Kiana sat across from him. At that moment, she absentmindedly rested her cheek on her hand, her gaze shifting toward the warm-toned wooden floorboards. Great swathes of sunlight spilled across them, while tiny specks of dust rose and fell like dancers.

The girl's gaze was distant, as though That person she spoke of was very far away from her.

"Manager, did you really lose your memories?" she asked seriously. Unlike the harmonious, joking atmosphere from before, this was how things should normally have unfolded.

Su Qing'an knew that, to Kiana, the person sitting across from her was merely a fake. No matter how she treated him, it would be only natural.

Whether she doubted him or ignored him, both were only to be expected.

Kiana was very gentle—so gentle that, despite noticing those details, she had not questioned him; so gentle that, even after sensing such an enormous difference, she had endured it until now, when he had calmed down, before raising the question. Su Qing'an absolutely could not arrogantly take that gentleness for granted.

Now she had asked Su Qing'an a question. It was not an interrogating tone, nor was it in any way oppressive. If he chose to brush her off, the girl would probably be understanding enough not to press the matter.

But he could not do that.

Su Qing'an was someone who hated lying.

Though lying was not something so terrible to him that it could not be forgiven.

Still, unless it was necessary, he would not choose to lie.

[Open that door. The answer is there.]

The virus-like words on his phone, impossible to erase, looked to him like a script directed by a god—impossible to refuse, impossible to resist.

Perhaps he was now nothing more than a puppet on a stage, manipulated at another's whim.

"My old room is up there, right?" He pointed to the spiral staircase in the middle of the café, where a door stood at the top.

"I'll give you an answer, Kiana. After I go inside." Su Qing'an made a promise.

Kiana watched the boy slowly climb the stairs, speechless for a moment. She could not understand the situation before her.

She could not understand Su Qing'an's near-indifferent detachment from the world earlier, nor his unease, like a rabbit caught in a hunter's net.

She could not understand why, after only one day, Su Qing'an had undergone so many strange changes.

If possible, Kiana would rather this were an elaborate prank Su Qing'an had deliberately arranged. If that were the case, she could just beat him up in revenge and laugh it off afterward.

Ordinary and simple—everything returning to normal.

Kiana Kaslana's everyday life was especially precious. Days where she could live like an ordinary girl would never last too long, no matter what.

This was a world facing Honkai. A girl who bore the Kaslana name and blood was born carrying the destiny of a warrior.

That was why she cherished such moments, Su Qing'an included.

She had very few friends.

What would happen after he opened the door? In what form would he receive his answer? Su Qing'an did not want to think about such questions.

The more he thought, the more he hesitated. Reckless people always charged forward without looking back, while clever people could quickly find their answers. Ordinary people, however, often looked before and behind, wavering indecisively.

Su Qing'an was an ordinary person, but he did not want to be so timid now. So he chose not to think about anything.

The doorknob pressed down easily, and he began to feel fortunate that his other self did not have the habit of locking a second door.

Then, with a gentle push, the door opened.