Inside the convenience store, the cool air from the refrigerated section mingled with the warm aroma of freshly baked goods, creating a unique atmospheric texture. Koudo Ikusei High School's convenience store boasted an astonishing variety of products, yet figures were sparse between the shelves, with only the occasional footsteps and the soft beeping of scanners breaking the silence.
Kamuro Masumi carried her shopping basket, her purple hair cascading over her shoulders. Her indifferent eyes scanned the array of goods, though beneath that calm exterior, a subtle restlessness lingered, almost imperceptible. She approached the refrigerated cabinet, the fine condensation on the glass blurring her vision, but failing to hide the outlines of the canned beers inside.
The vivid red "No Alcohol for Minors" sign pierced her gaze like an invisible chain, tightening a certain dangerous longing. Her fingertips unconsciously traced the cold glass of the cabinet. Her heart beat a little faster. That familiar thrill from junior high returned, curling around her like a vine—not for the beer itself, but for the secret pleasure of breaking rules, of asserting control. Her fingers curled slightly, and her breathing quickened.
Her eyes locked on a can in the far corner of the fridge. White packaging, a simple logo—unremarkable among the colorful drinks, yet magnetically compelling.
Pick it up… slip it into your bag… it's just a second.
Caught? It's only some troublesome scolding.
The clerk is busy… no one is watching… perfect.
Two thoughts waged a fierce battle in her mind. The urge to steal tangled with the risk of exposure, sending fine beads of sweat to her forehead. Her knuckles turned white against the basket, and she could feel her cheeks burning.
Then, from the corner of her eye, she noticed a figure near the deli section, opposite the refrigerated cabinet.
Sakamoto.
His left hand held three items—a plain bar of soap, a basic toothbrush, and a bottle of unscented shampoo—with a grace that could have belonged in an imperial court. In his right hand, a small bamboo taste-testing fork. He leaned slightly, lifting a slice of sausage with precise elegance. Not immediately tasting it, he examined the piece as though it were a miniature masterpiece.
Finally, he brought it to his mouth, chewing slowly and deliberately, savoring it as if enjoying a chef's special at a Michelin-starred restaurant. The composure, the elegance—so out of place in the noisy convenience store yet somehow perfectly at home—made Kamuro pause.
This guy, who seemed to know every secret of the school system, was taste-testing free sausage at a convenience store? And doing it as coolly as if he were at a buffet? Confusion flickered across her otherwise indifferent face, quickly overwhelmed by another, stronger impulse.
She inhaled deeply, forcing herself to calm down. With deliberate casualness, she picked up her shopping basket, bypassed the refrigerated section, and wandered around the store, picking up and putting down a few irrelevant items. Her thoughts alternated between Sakamoto's calm figure and the beer in the fridge.
Finally, she returned to the refrigerated cabinet. Impulse triumphed over reason. Without hesitation, she pulled open the fridge door, fingers reaching instinctively for the white-packaged drink in the far corner. The cold metallic touch made her fingertips tremble. She slipped it into her shoulder bag, movements as swift as lightning.
Click.
The sound of the zipper was barely audible. She closed the cabinet and headed to the checkout, moving smoothly, naturally, as if nothing had happened. Only she knew the cold weight in her bag and the accelerated heartbeat in her chest were entwined into a dark thrill.
Several people were lined up at the register. Kamuro stood at the end of the line, maintaining her usual indifferent demeanor. Her bag contained only a carton of milk and a rice ball—or so it appeared. The cashier, a young girl, scanned her items.
"That's 200 points in total, student," the girl said clearly.
Kamuro pulled out her phone, fingers tapping the payment interface with precision. Inside her bag, the beer remained, a secret weight against her chest.
Beep.
Payment successful.
Kamuro picked up the bag containing the milk and rice ball and turned to leave.
"Student, please wait a moment."
The clear, gentle voice sounded from behind her—neither too loud nor too soft—but it reached her ears with distinct precision. Kamuro's steps faltered. She slowly turned, a subtle sharpness flashing in her purple eyes.
Sakamoto had appeared a few steps behind her. He still maintained his characteristic posture: left hand holding soap, toothbrush, and shampoo as though cradling priceless works of art. But now, his right hand… held a can.
A white-packaged drink, simple in design.
Her eyes flicked to the bag at her side. The beer can she had just stolen—its packaging was almost identical. Kamuro's pupils contracted imperceptibly. Had she been caught? He was fast enough.
She remained expressionless, tightening her grip on the shopping bag, silently waiting for Sakamoto to continue. Reprimand? Reporting her to a teacher? Her mind ran through potential consequences and countermeasures, though her face betrayed nothing.
Yet Sakamoto's expression was not anger, not accusation. Instead, it held a gentle, almost benevolent concern. His gaze fell calmly on the slight bulge of her shoulder bag. His voice, steady and soft, cut through the tension:
"Your bag," he paused,
"seems to have something you forgot to pay for."
Kamuro's heart sank, but her face remained indifferent. She didn't argue. Instead, she reached for her bag, already calculating how to handle the situation. Being caught with a prohibited item was troublesome, but hardly the end of the world.
Her fingers brushed the can—and then froze. A strange metallic coldness seeped through her touch. She looked down.
The white packaging was correct—but the familiar beer logo was gone. In its place, a simple, fresh design boasted fruit patterns, with a clear line of text: 100% natural mixed fruit juice (non-alcoholic).
Juice?
Kamuro's hand froze, holding the can as if it were an impossible object. Her previously indifferent expression cracked, revealing pure astonishment. She had taken beer! How had it turned into juice?
Was she simply panicked and grabbed the wrong can? Impossible—she remembered its exact location. Her eyes shot up to Sakamoto.
He remained calm, a faint, almost imperceptible curve at the corner of his mouth. Without a word, he subtly nodded toward the can in her hand, and gently shook the identical can of juice in his own.
It clicked instantly. He had done it.
While she had wandered the store, restless and impulsive, he had swapped the beer for juice, perfectly anticipating her intentions. He had prevented her from getting into serious trouble without embarrassing her, even going so far as to select an identical can.
The revelation left Kamuro's mind reeling. Complex emotions swirled—shock, awe, a dash of irritation, and an unfamiliar flutter she couldn't quite name. She exhaled slowly, handing the juice to the cashier with a faint tremor in her voice:
"This… also checkout."
"Alright, student."
The cashier noticed nothing unusual, smiling as she scanned the juice.
"With the juice, that's 300 points in total."
Beep.
Payment successful again. Kamuro picked up the bag—now containing milk, a rice ball, and juice—and walked toward the exit as if nothing had happened.
Just as she reached the door, that clear, gentle voice reached her ears again. Not loud, but penetrating, like a gentle breeze:
"Minors cannot drink alcohol."
No scolding, just a simple, kind reminder.
Then, with a hint of playful amusement:
"Next time, let's drink juice together."
Kamuro's steps faltered not at all. She pushed the door open and stepped outside. The clamor of the busy street washed over her.
She stood by the roadside, holding her bag, purple eyes narrowing slightly. Heat crept up her cheeks, ears flushed.
"D-drink juice together?"
Her hair, lifted by the wind, revealed fair cheeks tinged with red. In the sunlight, her eyes reflected a storm of emotions—confusion, lingering fear, embarrassment… and a small, quiet flutter she had not yet realized.