Ms. Gojo thought she was dating an ordinary person's boyfriend.

In April, the streets of Tomoeda still carry the damp scent of grass, and cherry blossom petals occasionally fall, shattering with a "smack" when stepped on.

Kikawa Sumi walked along the familiar path in the residential area. There were houses along the roadside where people had just watered their flowers, and the smell of damp soil mixed with the faint fragrance of fallen cherry blossoms wafted over in waves.

Sumi Kikawa stopped in front of the Kinomoto house, walking along the residential alley she had walked countless times.

A handwritten note was stuck to the mailbox by the door. The round handwriting read, "Watch out for the steps! They were just repaired last week," and a crooked wing was drawn at the end.

He glanced down at the steps.

It's clear that it has been repaired; the new cement is a lighter color than the surrounding cement.

He changed into slippers at the door and pushed open the entryway door. The aroma of black tea wafted through the living room, mixed with a soft, sweet floral and fruity scent.

The window was half open, and the curtains billowed slightly in the wind. In the distance, the faint chants of the baseball team could be heard, sometimes long and sometimes short.

Sakura sat on the sofa, with three cups on the coffee table in front of her. Tomoyo sat next to her, refilling her cups with tea. As for Kero, he was probably still happily playing games in Sakura's room.

"Brother Qichuan!" Sakura's eyes lit up when she saw him.

"Excuse me." Sumi Kichikawa sat down in her usual spot.

The so-called "old spot" is actually just the single sofa by the window.

He had sat on the cushion and left a shallow dent. A thin blanket woven by Tomoyo was draped over the armrest.

He always sits here when he comes, drinks tea, and watches the light outside the window move from one side to the other. Sometimes he helps Sakura check the status of the Clow Cards, and sometimes he does nothing but stay quietly.

Tomoyo pushed the cup of refilled tea toward him. He thanked her, picked it up, and took a sip.

It's Darjeeling black tea with a touch of honey, and the temperature is just right.

Then he noticed a small camera in the corner of the coffee table, its red light shining quietly, the lens pointed in his direction.

"...Tomoyo, when did you start filming?"

"From the moment Mr. Kikawa entered," Tomoyo said with a smile, holding the teapot with both hands, her posture as dignified as a painting, "Mr. Kikawa has a different feel to him today. I wanted to record it."

"What's different?"

"I can't quite put my finger on it." Tomoyo tilted her head, her long, dark hair sliding over her shoulder with the movement. "It's just a feeling. Like... I'm thinking about something."

Kikawa Sumi picked up her teacup without refuting.

Sakura leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees, and looked at him curiously: "Kikawa-nii, what brings you here today?"

"It's nothing serious." Sumi Kikawa put down her teacup, the bottom making a soft "tap" on the coaster. "I just wanted to ask Sakura, do you still have the lucky candy you gave me last time?"

Sakura was stunned for a moment.

Then she nodded vigorously, the hair clip on her head swaying: "Yes, yes! We made too much last time, there's still plenty left!"

She stood up and jogged into the room.

The slippers made a clattering sound in the hallway. After a while, she jogged back carrying a clear glass jar. The jar swayed in her arms, and the candies inside made a soft, clinking sound.

The jar was filled with candies wrapped in colored cellophane.

Through the transparent jar, you can see layers of red, purple, yellow, and pink candy wrappers piled together, shimmering in the sunlight streaming in from the window, like a tiny nebula contained within a jar.

Sakura placed the glass jar on the coffee table with a steady, muffled sound.

Kikawa Sumi reached out and picked it up, holding it up a little higher to examine it in the light.

The sunlight made the candy wrappers even more vibrant, and the outlines of each candy ball became translucent, as if you could smell the sweet fruit flavor inside even through the cellophane.

"Have you finished eating?" Zhi Shi asked.

"No," said Sumire Kichikawa. "I gave it away."

Both girls stopped moving at the same time.

Sakura blinked, her hands still wrapped around her knees. Tomoyo put down the teapot gently, placing her hands clasped together on her knees.

"Given away?" Zhi Shi asked, his voice still so gentle, with a slight rise at the end.

"Hmm. I met someone who always looked tired, so I just gave him a few." Sumi Kichikawa put the glass jar back on the coffee table and tapped the lid lightly with her fingertip. "He seemed to like them. So he wants some more."

Just as Sakura was about to speak, Tomoyo gently pressed down on the back of her hand.

"Kizuka-san," Tomoyo's voice was very soft, as if afraid of disturbing something, "what kind of person is this 'always tired' you mentioned?"

Sumi Kichikawa slowly ran her fingers around the edge of the glass jar.

The baseball team's chants outside the window had faded into the distance; they must have moved to a different venue.

The living room quieted down, with only the faint sound of the camera running and the rustling of the curtains as the wind blew in through the half-open window.

He didn't answer Tomoyo's question immediately, but instead took a small cloth bag out of his pocket.

Tomoyo and Sakura both peeked out to look.

It was a small Japanese-style lucky bag, made of soft, dark blue cloth, with a small crescent moon embroidered on it in silver thread.

The workmanship is very exquisite. The moon's arc is round and full, with a few stars scattered around it, which are crocheted stitch by stitch with even finer silver thread.

The bag was tied with a cotton rope of the same color, but it wasn't tied tightly yet.

"So beautiful—" Sakura whispered.

"I made this myself a long time ago." Sumi Kichikawa placed the lucky bag on her lap, opening it wide with the top facing upwards. "I made it a long time ago, and it's been sitting in my drawer ever since, but I haven't found the right person to give it to."

He spoke as if it were something trivial.

Then he reached out and lifted the lid of the glass jar, and began to pick out the candies one by one.

First, they put in the grape flavor, then the strawberry flavor, and next, the apple flavor...

The little lucky bag gradually bulged, and Sumi Kichikawa pulled out another orange-flavored one...

He picked it up, looked at the cartoon pattern printed on the candy wrapper, thought for a moment, and then put it in.

They all taste like fruit.

He then pulled out a star-shaped lollipop from the bottom of the jar; the lollipop's wrapper had a small magic circle printed on it.

He turned the lollipop around so that the pointed end of the star was facing up, and carefully placed it upright into the lucky bag.

He was very careful in his selection. He would hold each candy up to the light from the window, slowly turn it around, and make sure the wrapper was intact and the color was bright.

If you find one that is slightly flattened, put it back in the jar and then pick out a plump one.

Tomoyo watched his movements quietly.

Sunlight streamed in through the window and fell on his downcast profile.

His expression was calm, no different from usual—but having known him for so long, Tomoyo could tell that the indifference that had settled in his eyes over the years, almost transparent, seemed to have faded a bit today.

The camera lens moved silently, recording the subtle pauses and choices of his fingers as he picked out candy.

After placing the last candy, Sumi Kichikawa slowly tightened the cotton rope and then tied a neat slipknot. The tension was just right, neither too loose nor too tight, and it could be easily untied with a pull.

He held the lucky bag in his palm and looked at it for a while.

The deep blue fabric shimmered softly in the sunlight, and the silver-embroidered moon lay quietly curved there, with the little stars beside it seemingly circling slowly around it.

"That was a very conspicuous man." Kikawa Sumi placed the lucky bag on her lap, took a needle from her coat pocket, flattened a slightly hooked thread at the bag's opening, and continued...

"Tall. White hair. Wears a strange black eye patch, seems unapproachable at first glance, but is actually very polite."

He paused.

"Can read picture books."

"Picture book?" Sakura repeated quietly.

"Hmm." Sumire Kichikawa threaded the cotton thread through the last eyelet at the bag's opening, gently pulling it tight as she spoke.

"He seems very casual, but when he eats pudding, he folds the wrapper neatly. I used to think it was a professional habit, but now I realize he's just that kind of person."

As he spoke, he didn't even notice that the corners of his mouth were curving into a smile.

"He seemed like he hadn't been properly cared for in a long time." He put down the needle and changed to a more comfortable angle to hold the lucky bag.

"His hands are always shaking, not pathologically, just from being too tired. When I ask him, he says, 'I hate my job.' But he doesn't seem like the type of person who hates their job. To be more precise, he's probably the kind of person who pushes himself very hard. He says he hates it, but he's actually more dedicated than anyone else."

The living room was so quiet that only the aroma of steaming black tea could be heard.

He stopped and looked up.

Sakura covered her mouth, her shoulders trembling slightly, as if she wanted to say something but was trying hard not to.

Tomoyo's eyes shone as brightly as if two lamps had been lit.

The camera's red light remained steadily lit, capturing every word he had just said.

"...What's wrong?"

"Nothing much." Tomoyo shook her head slightly, her voice carrying a barely perceptible smile. "Kikawa-san, the way you talk is a little different than usual."

"What's different?"

"You've never described anyone like that before," Sakura couldn't help but say softly, her voice trembling with something. "Before, when we asked Kikawa-nii what kind of people he'd met, you always said 'ordinary people,' 'nothing special'..."

"He's nothing special," Sumire Kichikawa said calmly.

Sakura: "..."

"Just a tired office worker."

Sakura turned around and glanced at Tomoyo.

Tomoyo smiled gently, said nothing, and quietly added hot water to the teacup.

"Sikawa-san."

He raised his head.

Tomoyo looked at him, her gaze gentle and clear.

"How many times did you say you encountered this?"

"Five times? Or six times?" Sumire thought for a moment, "I can't quite remember."

"Were they all coincidences?"

"It was all by chance."

Tomoyo remained silent for a while.

A breeze picked up outside the window, and a few petals were blown through the half-open window, landing on the floor. They were pink and white, very light.

"Kizuki-san," Tomoyo said softly, "do you believe in fate?"

fate.

Sumi Kikawa's fingers rested on the lucky bag. The moon embroidery rose slightly beneath her fingertips, the silver thread feeling fine and cool to the touch.

He didn't believe in this before.

Throughout the long career of a mission taker, every encounter is arranged by the system.

Which world to go to, who to meet, and at what moment to appear behind whom—all of these are scripts prepared in advance by the system.

The protagonists of those worlds believed that fate brought them together, but they knew it wasn't.

It's code, it's parameters, it's precisely calculated triggering conditions.

But things are different after retirement.

This world has no system notification sounds, no task panels, and no forced storylines.

This is the destiny he chose for himself; this world is only for the life he wants to live and the path he walks.

All encounters should be accidental.

But that person—all in black, with white hair, wearing a strange eye patch, and unable to even take care of himself—appeared in front of him time and time again.

Convenience stores, on the street, across from coffee shops, drugstores, bookstores.

It's as if something in the shadows is pulling an invisible thread, and no matter which direction he goes, he'll always bump into that person at some corner.

Tokyo has a population of nearly 14 million.

What is the probability that two people will keep meeting?

He remembered the way that person unwrapped the candy.

Despite looking so casual and carefree, the unwrapped candy wrappers were neatly folded.

He remembered the man leaning against the back of a plastic chair in the convenience store, a candy in his mouth, looking at the streetlight through the glass window. His eye mask covered most of his face, but the jawline he revealed was very handsome.

He remembered the drawn-out tone in that person's voice when they said, "Work is so awful," and the unspoken words beneath those words.

"Perhaps," said Sumire Kichikawa. "Tomoyo is right."

"I didn't say that," Tomoyo laughed. "I just asked you a question."

"Then I'm answering your question."

Sumi Kichikawa carefully placed the lucky bag into the inside pocket of her coat, gently patted the opening to make sure it was securely in place.

"If there really is such a thing as fate—"

He said his voice wasn't loud, as if he were speaking to Tomoyo, or perhaps confirming something to himself.

"I want to treat it more formally."

Tomoyo's eyes crinkled into a smile, and she gently clapped her hands.

"Kichikawa-san," she said, "this is the first time you've actively wanted to form a connection with someone."

"……Yeah."

"Yes." Tomoyo nodded earnestly, her long hair swaying gently over her shoulder with the movement. "Before, when you came here, it was always to rest. Drink tea, look at the flowers, and help us check the condition of the Clow Cards. You never talked about yourself. Today is the first time."

She leaned forward slightly, her gaze gentle yet solemn, and added, "So I'm very happy."

Sumi Kichikawa did not answer.

He bent down and buttoned up the pockets of his coat, his fingers lingering on the fabric for a moment.

The sunlight outside the window shifted slightly, sliding from his shoulder to the back of his hand, warm and gentle, carrying the unique, non-scorching temperature of April.

The living room was quiet. The black tea in the teacup was still steaming slightly. The red light on the camera was still on, faithfully recording this afternoon.

When he left, Sakura saw him to the door.

The cherry blossoms along the road were in full bloom, their petals trembling gently in the breeze. Occasionally, one or two would detach from the branches and slowly fall down, as if reluctant to leave.

"Brother Qichuan".

Sakura tugged at his sleeve, and Sumi Kikawa bent down in response.

She tiptoed, leaned close to his ear, and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear, "Bring that person to Tomoeda Town next time!"

Sumire Kikkawa was taken aback.

"Tomoyo said that if it's really, really good, we can bring it to see." Sakura pulled her heels back, looked up at him and smiled, her eyes sparkling. "I want to see what kind of person could make Kikawa-nii so serious."

Sumi Kichikawa looked down at her.

Sunlight fell on Sakura's hair, making her honey-colored hair glow softly.

Her smile was just as bright, clean, and unreserved as when we first met, as if all the good things in the world were worth believing in.

He reached out and gently ruffled the top of her hair.

"If there's a chance in the future," he said.

Then he turned around and walked along the path covered with fallen cherry blossoms into the April sunshine of Tomoeda Town.

A gust of wind blew from behind, swirling a few cherry blossom petals around his shoulder before drifting away into the distant sky.

In the coat pocket, the small, dark blue lucky bag embroidered with the moon sat quietly, filled with tiny sweet treats from another world.