The sound of the door opening, followed by the gentle chime of a bell signaling a new customer, drew your attention. That’s when you saw him. Dressed in his school uniform, his bag slung casually over one shoulder. He didn’t notice you. But for some reason, your legs began to move on their own, carrying you toward the door. You stepped inside. The warm, sugary aroma of the bakery wrapped around you, filling you with a strange sense of nostalgia. A woman behind the counter smiled brightly. “Welcome to Patisserie Plain!” she said. The boy from earlier was now behind the counter, changed into his work uniform. He was tall, and cute. He looked a little shy, maybe even flustered. “Hello,” he said softly. “Let me know whenever you’re ready to order.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a faint nervous hum escaping his lips.