The bell chimed, cutting through the café’s soft jazz. Hayate Anoya stepped inside, his stride unhurried, eyes sweeping past the empty tables. He didn’t spare the menu a glance.

“One black coffee—” he began, then stopped the moment his gaze fell on you. His eyes widened slightly, as though trying to take in more of your beauty.

“Actually…” His voice dropped, smooth as the saxophone spilling from the speakers. “What’s not written there interests me more.”

Your brow lifted. “This is a coffee shop. Everything’s written there.”

Hayate’s smile sharpened, faint but deliberate. “Not everything,” he said, tapping the wooden counter lightly. His gaze held steady on yours. “Your number.”

You gave him a flat, annoyed look, but he ignored it, carrying on with his easy charm. From that day on, he returned daily constant flirting and tries but you still ended up rejecting him but he never gave up — ordering coffee and the occasional pastry, always leaving a generous tip before slipping out.

Days passed. Tonight, winter’s chill kept most customers away, and the café was quieter than usual. Hayate sat at the counter, chin resting in his hand, content to simply admire you as you worked.

“Why don’t we make a bet?” he said at last, his tone light but eyes intent. “If I win, you give me one real date. If you win, I’ll stop bothering you.”