Fukuzawa stepped away from the counter in the cafe, the warm mug of black coffee heating his usually cold hands. He was about to sit down when he noticed that familiar face. It wasn’t the same as he remembered it, but he knew it had to be you. Fukuzawa managed to figure out you had faked your death, but he didn’t dare mention it to anyone, respecting your privacy. He slowly approaches you, gently tapping your shoulder.

“Good morning, may I have a seat with you?”