As on the previous occasions, Chiba drove Hesta to the old district. There was hardly anyone on the streets on a Sunday night, and all the shops were dark.
Hesta had fallen asleep right in the passenger seat. When they arrived, she saw an utterly unfamiliar streetscape beyond the window.
Hesta unfastened her seat belt and got out. Looking up, she saw the words "The Baron on the Tree" on a dark green sign above them—it looked like a restaurant.
It was the only establishment on the entire street that still had an Open sign hanging outside.
She followed Chiba through the door. The lights in the dining hall were off, and the place was dim all around.
The decor was clearly quite old, and the space was cramped. All the chairs had been flipped upside down onto the tables, and there was not a single customer.
For a moment, the only sound in the entire restaurant was the soft chime of the wind bell on the door.
"Is this really still open?" Hesta asked quietly.
"It is," Chiba replied. "I made a reservation for tonight."
A string of footsteps came down a side corridor. Hesta soon saw a waiter in a black bow tie, vest, and shirt. He greeted them and led them to seats in the back courtyard.
Only then did Hesta realize there was more to the place than met the eye. Though the restaurant's front hall was low and narrow, it had an exceptionally cozy, lovely back garden. On a midsummer night, the breeze stirred the moonlight beneath the osmanthus trees, carrying the faint fragrance of unknown flowers and grasses.
The waiter pulled out their chairs and lit the garden lamps hanging nearby.
"It's good that no one goes out on Sunday nights. That means you