Chapter Text
Narumi Gen sighed into his latte, the warm steam fogging his glasses. His break was supposed to be quiet—gaming in his quarters, maybe napping between missions. Instead, he was here at Starbucks, thanks to renovations turning his room into a construction zone.
Still, the café wasn’t so bad. He’d snagged a two-chair table near the window, bag of handheld consoles at his side, and—on a last-minute impulse—two slices of cake from the counter. One chocolate, one strawberry shortcake.
That’s when he noticed her.
Across the café, a copper-haired woman sat alone at her own two-chair table. Big headphones cushioned over her ears, a dragonfruit refresher sweating beside her, and a tablet glowing with familiar pixel fields and tidy farm plots. Stardew Valley.
They locked eyes once, then twice. Each time, it stretched just long enough to feel like something was happening before both looked away. Gen clicked his tongue softly, pretending to be absorbed in his handheld game, though his gaze kept drifting.
Then a couple walked in—hands laced, scanning for a table. Their eyes zeroed in on him and his empty chair. The boyfriend’s eyebrows arched. The girlfriend smiled politely, but it was that “come on, man” kind of smile.
Gen groaned. Fine.
Scooping up his tray, he headed to the copper-haired girl’s table, holding both plates of cake like a peace offering.
“Uh, hey,” he started, pushing up his glasses. “Looks like those two are about to guilt-trip me into giving up my table. Mind if I sit here instead?”
She blinked, pulling her headphones down.
“To sweeten the deal,” Gen added quickly, sliding the strawberry shortcake across the table, “I brought backup. Cake.”
Her brows rose, lips quirking. “…You’re bribing me with dessert?”
Gen chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Let’s call it… advanced table rent.”
That earned a soft laugh from her, and she gestured to the seat. “Okay, you’re in. But only because it’s strawberry shortcake.”
Gen grinned, sliding into the chair. “Guess I got lucky.”
They both dug into the cake, an unspoken truce sealed with forks clinking against porcelain. For a while, they ate in silence—until Gen’s eyes strayed to her tablet.
“Wait a sec,” he leaned forward, pointing. “Is that—Stardew Valley?”
Her expression lit up. “Yeah. You play?”
Gen nearly puffed out his chest as he whipped his handheld out of his bag. “Do I play? Please. My chickens are basically celebrities.”
She giggled, hiding her smile behind her fork. “Sure they are. What’s your farm name?”
“‘Operation Chill.’”
That made her laugh harder. “That’s… that’s so unromantic. Mine’s ‘Pumpkin Paradise.’”
“Unromantic? Hey, I’m a practical guy. Besides, you try thinking of names after thirty straight missions.”
The teasing bounced back and forth like a rally. They compared favorite villagers, debated the best in-game spouse, and swapped tragic stories of missed fishing catches. She admitted she once passed out in the mines and lost all her gear. He confessed he still couldn’t aim his slingshot properly.
“Maybe,” she said between bites of cake, “you just need a co-op partner.”
Gen raised an eyebrow. “That an invitation?”
Her lips curved into a small, playful smile. “Depends. You on PC or Switch?”
“Switch. Handheld life.” He held up his console like proof.
“Good,” she said softly, tapping her stylus against the table. “Me too.”
By the time their plates were empty, it felt like they’d been sitting together for hours instead of minutes. She passed him her tablet briefly to type her username into his friend list, her copper hair falling forward as she concentrated.
“There,” she said, sliding it back with a little grin. “Now you owe me farm tours.”
Gen slipped his console back into his bag, standing reluctantly. “Guess I do. Thanks for letting me crash here.”
“And for the cake,” she replied, holding up the empty fork like a mock toast.
They parted ways outside, heading in opposite directions. But Gen’s steps felt lighter than usual, his thoughts buzzing not with kaiju, but with the copper-haired stranger who now lived in his Switch friend list.