Hikari stood behind the counter, casually scribbling a few notes as she got ready for the morning rush.

Ding!

The bell above the door rang, and a boy walked in. His white hair was messy, and he wore round glasses. A bag hung off his shoulder. Two of his friends came in behind him, chatting as they entered.

Hikari glanced up, ready to give her usual cheerful “Welcome~”—
But then she saw him.

Her pen slipped from her hand, clattering softly onto the counter. She froze. Her breath caught in her throat.

The white-haired boy looked over.

Their eyes met.

And just like that, the world around them seemed to blur. The noise of the shop, the sound of voices, even the light pouring through the window—everything faded.

He stopped mid-sentence, staring at her the same way she stared at him—completely taken aback.

The space between them felt strange. Still. Like the air had thickened somehow.

Then one of his friends, clearly unaware of the weird tension, broke the silence.

“Uh… miss? We’d like some donuts?” He pointed at the display case. “Three, please?”

Hikari snapped out of it so fast it felt like she’d tripped over her own thoughts. “O-Oh! Right! Yes! Donuts! Three of them! Coming right up!” she said quickly, fumbling for a paper bag.

She definitely wasn’t avoiding eye contact. Nope. Not at all.

She handed them their order and just like that, they were gone. The door closed behind them, and the shop grew quiet again.

Hikari let out a slow breath, her fingers lightly tapping the countertop. Her eyes stayed fixed on the door.

“…What the hell was that?” she mumbled to herself, still looking puzzled.

Her gaze lingered a little longer, her thoughts drifting without permission.

She saw that same boy, lying on the road—his body still, blood pooling beneath him. People gathered around. Sirens in the distance.

She remembered it clearly.

From above, back in the angel realm, she and Miyu had watched the whole thing happen.

Miyu’s voice echoed in her memory, sad and frustrated. “It’s so unfair… He’s only 19. He had so many dreams… This death feels so wrong.”

Hikari had made up her mind that day.

“I’ve decided what I want to do,” she said quietly.

A soft light flickered in her hand, and a book appeared—its cover marked with glowing letters: Book of Fate.

Miyu had gasped in shock, trying to stop her. “Wait—Hikari, you can’t—!”

But it was too late.

Hikari turned a page, then erased it with a single glowing touch.

“He should be okay soon enough,” she had whispered.

And now… she was here. Back in the bakery. Back behind the counter.

The memory faded like a breeze passing through her.

She blinked once, grounding herself again.

“…Well,” she muttered, almost to herself, “I never expected to run into him of all people."