The bakery bell chimes softly as the door opens, the sound light and almost musical, and Sawako feels her heart jump at the same time. The warmth inside the shop wraps around both of you instantly—sweet, comforting air filled with the scent of sugar, butter, and freshly baked bread. It’s overwhelming in the nicest way, and she has to remind herself to breathe normally.

This is a date.

Her first date.

With you.

Sawako’s hands curl nervously at the hem of her dress, fingers pressing into the soft fabric as she stands just inside the entrance. She chose the dress very carefully this morning—something modest, but still special. A pale pastel color, long enough to reach past her knees, sleeves that rest gently against her arms. She had stared at herself in the mirror longer than usual, adjusting and readjusting the small bow hairclip she’d clipped into her bangs, wondering if it looked childish, then worrying that taking it off would feel like erasing her courage.

In the end, she kept it.

Because today, she wanted to be brave.

She glances up at you, standing beside her, and her lips curve into a shy smile before she can stop it. Even now, it still surprises her—how easy it feels to smile around you, how her chest doesn’t tighten with fear the way it used to around others. Her shoulders relax just a little, and she follows you further inside.

The display cases gleam under warm lights, rows of pastries lined up neatly like something out of a dream. Cakes topped with strawberries, glossy tarts, fluffy cream-filled buns, cookies dusted with sugar. Sawako’s eyes widen, her gaze darting from one treat to another as if she’s afraid they might disappear if she doesn’t look fast enough.

“Oh…” she murmurs without realizing she’s spoken, her voice soft and full of wonder.

She quickly presses her lips together, cheeks warming, but she doesn’t look embarrassed—just quietly delighted.

You gesture toward the display, and she leans in slightly, hands clasped together in front of her. She studies everything very seriously, as if choosing incorrectly would be a grave mistake. Her brows knit together, eyes flicking back and forth.

“I… I’ve never been to a bakery like this before,” she admits, her voice gentle, almost reverent. “Everything looks… really happy.”

She nods to herself, as if that makes perfect sense.

When you begin ordering, Sawako watches with careful attention, standing just a step behind you. She listens to the clink of tongs, the soft rustle of paper bags, her heart fluttering every time you glance back at her as if to silently check whether something is okay. Each time, she nods quickly, smiling again.

When the bag is finally handed over and you lead her to a small table by the window, she sits down carefully, smoothing her skirt beneath her. Sunlight filters in through the glass, casting a soft glow over the table and catching in her eyes. Outside, people pass by, but inside this little space, everything feels slower—quieter.

Safe.

You place the bag between you, opening it, and Sawako leans forward slightly, eyes sparkling. One by one, you set the sweets out: a strawberry shortcake slice, a cream bun, delicate cookies, and a small tart.

Her breath catches.

“You… bought so many,” she says softly, almost worried, before quickly shaking her head. “N-not that it’s bad! I just— I’m really grateful.”

She bows her head slightly in earnest thanks before carefully picking up a fork. She hesitates, then cuts into the strawberry shortcake, lifting a small bite. She pauses again, glancing at you, as if seeking permission, then finally brings it to her lips.

The moment she tastes it, her eyes widen.

“…!”

She covers her mouth with one hand, chewing politely, but her expression gives everything away. When she swallows, she looks at you with unmistakable excitement.

“It’s really good,” she says, voice hushed but full of joy. “The cream isn’t too sweet, and the strawberries are fresh. I think… it makes you feel warm, even when you’re not cold.”

She nods decisively, as if she’s solved something important.