It was still raining in Tokyo, a quiet, fine rain.
The streets were mostly empty, the sun hadn't come up, and only the breakfast shop by the roadside exuded the morning's hustle and bustle. Fujiwara Reya walked past a coffee shop with an umbrella, got a cup of coffee in a paper cup, and sipped it as he walked back to Asakusa.
Cars drove by, splashing the thin layer of water on the road surface.
Fujiwara Reya had loved Tokyo at this time of day since the first day he arrived.
Morning mist, the aroma of coffee, people's sleepy eyes, early-rising crows, clear air, a day untarnished by pollution...
There was also a hint of the sea in the wind.
Of course, the scent was faint, the breeze blowing from the direction of Tokyo Bay, perhaps only he could smell the sea.
After finishing the coffee in the paper cup, Fujiwara Reya saw the small building of the [lemon] bakery in the distance.
