The coffee shop was more crowded than usual for a Tuesday afternoon.
I squeezed past a group of students clustered near the door, laptop bag slung over my shoulder, searching for an empty seat. The semester had just started, and everyone seemed to have the same idea about finding a quiet place to work. The smell of freshly ground coffee beans mixed with the low hum of conversation and the hiss of the espresso machine created a familiar, comforting atmosphere.
"Excuse me—sorry—" I navigated through the maze of tables and chairs, my eyes scanning for any available spot.
That's when I saw her.
She was sitting alone by the window, sunlight streaming through the glass and catching in her hair, making it glow like spun gold. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, pencil tapping rhythmically against her notebook as she stared at whatever she was working on. There was something captivating about the way she bit her lower lip while thinking, completely absorbed in her task, oblivious to the world around her.
Focus, Haruto. You came here to work, not stare at random girls.
As I tried to look away. She shifted slightly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and the movement was so naturally graceful that I found myself wondering what she was studying so intently. Her notebook was filled with what looked like diagrams and notes, densely packed across the pages. A textbook lay open beside her coffee cup—something with colorful illustrations that suggested maybe biology or chemistry.
"Are you going to stand there all day, or...?"
I jerked back to reality. A girl with pink highlights was looking at me expectantly, waiting to get past with her tray of drinks. Heat rushed to my face.
"Sorry, sorry!" I stepped aside quickly, nearly bumping into another table.
Smooth, Haruto. Real smooth.
I forced myself to look away from the girl by the window and continued my search for a seat. The place really was packed—every table occupied, every corner claimed. I was about to give up and head to the library instead when I heard a soft voice.
"Excuse me?"
I turned. The girl from the window was looking directly at me, her hand raised slightly in a tentative wave. Up close, I could see her eyes were a warm brown, bright with intelligence and something like amusement.
"Are you looking for a seat?" she asked, gesturing to the empty chair across from her. "You can sit here if you want. I don't mind sharing the table."
For a moment, I just stood there like an idiot, my brain short-circuiting at the simple offer. She tilted her head slightly, waiting for a response, and I realized I needed to actually speak.
"Are you sure? I don't want to disturb you."
She smiled, and something in my chest did an odd little flip. "It's fine. I could use a study break anyway. I've been staring at cellular respiration for the past hour, and the words are starting to blur together."
"Cellular respiration," I repeated, moving toward the table. "Biology major?"
"Pre-med, actually." She shifted her materials to make room for me. "Second year. You?"
"Engineering. Also second year." I set my bag down and pulled out the chair, the legs scraping slightly against the floor. "I'm Haruto, by the way. Haruto Tanaka."
"Akari Shimizu." She extended her hand across the table, and when I shook it, her grip was firm and warm. "Nice to meet you, Haruto."
"Nice to meet you too."
I settled into the chair and started unpacking my laptop, hyperaware of her presence across from me. She'd already gone back to her notes, that same focused expression returning to her face. I opened my computer and pulled up the assignment I was supposed to be working on—a problem set for my thermodynamics class—but found my attention drifting.
The way the afternoon light illuminated her features. The soft sound of her pencil scratching against paper. The occasional small sigh when she encountered something particularly challenging.
Stop it. You literally just met her. Stop being weird.
I forced my eyes back to my screen and tried to focus on heat transfer equations. For a few minutes, I actually managed it, losing myself in calculations and diagrams. But then Akari let out a frustrated groan, and I couldn't help but glance up.
She was staring at her textbook with an expression of pure bewilderment, her pencil tapping faster now—a sign of agitation rather than thought.
"Problem?" I asked before I could stop myself.
She looked up, seeming surprised that I'd noticed. "Just… the Krebs cycle is really giving me a hard time right now. I understand the individual steps, but when I try to see the whole picture, it all turns into alphabet soup."
I couldn't help but smile. "Alphabet soup. That's a pretty accurate description of most science classes."
"Right?" She leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms above her head. "Sometimes I wonder why I chose pre-med. Then I remember I actually like helping people, and suffering through biochemistry is apparently part of the package."
"That's a good reason, at least." I closed my laptop slightly, giving her my attention. "Better than my reason for choosing engineering."
"Which is?"
"I'm good at math, and someone told me engineers make decent money." I shrugged. "Not exactly noble."
Akari laughed—a genuine, bright sound that made several people at nearby tables glance over. "Hey, practical reasons are valid too. At least you're honest about it."
"I try to be." I found myself relaxing, the initial awkwardness fading. "Though I have to admit, some of the projects are actually pretty interesting. When I'm not drowning in problem sets, anyway."
"I feel that." She picked up her coffee cup, realized it was empty, and set it back down with a disappointed sigh. "The eternal student struggle—interesting material buried under mountains of work."
"Want another coffee?" I said it too fast, before I could stop myself. "I mean— I was about to get one anyway."
She looked at me with surprise, then smiled. "Sure. That would be nice. Just a regular coffee, cream and sugar."
"Got it." I stood up, grabbing my wallet. "Be right back."
As I made my way to the counter, I could feel my heart beating faster than normal. It's just coffee. You're just getting coffee. This isn't a date or anything. You're just... being friendly. To a very pretty girl who smiled at you.
The line wasn't too long, thankfully. I ordered two coffees and waited, trying not to think too hard about why I was suddenly so nervous about going back to the table. It was ridiculous. I'd shared study spaces with plenty of people before. This was no different.
Except it felt different.
When I returned with the drinks, Akari had put her textbook aside and was doodling in the margin of her notebook—little flowers and swirls that suggested her mind had completely departed from cellular respiration.
"One coffee with cream and sugar." I set it down in front of her.
"My hero." She wrapped her hands around the cup, inhaling the steam. "Thank you. You've saved me from biochemistry-induced brain death."
"Happy to help." I sat back down, cradling my own cup. "So, if you don't mind me asking—what made you want to be a doctor? Beyond the general 'helping people' thing."
Akari was quiet for a moment, her expression becoming more thoughtful. "My grandmother," she said finally. "She had a stroke when I was in middle school. I watched the doctors and nurses take care of her, saw how much difference they made not just in her recovery but in how the whole family coped with it. They were... I don't know, they were like these calm, competent anchors in the middle of chaos. I remember thinking that's what I wanted to be for people."
There was something in her voice—a sincerity that made me pay attention. "That's... actually really beautiful."
"It sounds cheesy when I say it out loud." She laughed, a bit self-consciously. "My friends always tease me about being too idealistic."
"I don't think it's cheesy." I meant it. "The world probably needs more people who want to help for the right reasons."
She met my eyes then, and for a moment, something passed between us—a connection, an understanding. It was the kind of moment that feels simultaneously too long and not long enough.
"What about you?" she asked, breaking the silence. "You said you're in engineering. What kind?"
"Mechanical." I wrapped both hands around my coffee cup. "Lots of physics and math. Lots of staying up until three AM wondering why I didn't choose something easier."
"Three AM?" She raised an eyebrow. "Amateur hour. Try studying for organic chemistry exams. Four AM is the standard."
"Is this a competition now?"
"Maybe." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "I'm pretty competitive."
"Noted." I couldn't help but grin. "Though I should warn you, I'm pretty stubborn. If this becomes an all-nighter contest, I'm in it for the long haul."
"Deal." She extended her hand across the table again, this time in a mock-serious handshake. "May the most sleep-deprived student win."
We shook on it, both of us trying not to laugh. Her hand was warm in mine, and I found myself reluctant to let go. When we did finally release, I noticed her cheeks had a slight pink tinge to them.
Or maybe that was just the lighting.
Stop overthinking everything.
"So," Akari said, picking up her pencil again but not actually writing anything. "Do you come here often? That sounded like a bad pickup line. Uhh.. I mean—do you usually study here?"
I laughed at her flustered correction. "Sometimes. The library gets too quiet for me. I like having some background noise."
"Same!" She looked genuinely pleased by this. "Everyone thinks I'm weird for not wanting complete silence, but I study better with a little ambient sound. The library makes me feel like I'm going to get in trouble if I breathe too loudly."
"Exactly. Plus, the library doesn't have coffee that smells this good."
"Valid point." She took a sip from her cup, then made a satisfied sound.
We fell into an easy conversation after that, talking about our classes, our professors, the general chaos of university life. She told me about her impossible organic chemistry teacher who seemed to take pleasure in making students cry. I told her about my physics professor who had a tendency to go off on tangents about his time at NASA.
Time slipped by without me noticing. The afternoon light shifted, growing warmer and more golden as it moved across the table. Other students came and went. Someone dropped a cup behind the counter, causing a brief commotion. Through it all, Akari and I kept talking, the conversation flowing naturally from one topic to another.
At some point, I realized we'd both completely abandoned any pretense of studying. Our textbooks and notebooks lay forgotten, our laptops closed. We were just... talking. Getting to know each other. And it felt right in a way that was hard to explain.
"Oh no." Akari suddenly pulled out her phone, her eyes widening. "It's already five-thirty? I have a group meeting at six!"
"Seriously?" I checked my own phone. Sure enough, nearly three hours had passed. "Wow. Time really got away from us."
"Yeah." She started gathering her things with hurried movements, shoving books and papers into her bag. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to monopolize your whole afternoon. You probably didn't get any work done because of me."
"Are you kidding? This was way better than thermodynamics." I helped her collect a few pens that had rolled across the table. "Besides, I chose to keep talking. You didn't force me."
She paused in her packing, looking at me with a smile that seemed almost shy. "Well... thanks for the coffee. And the conversation. This was really nice."
"It was." I stood up as she did, not quite ready for this to end. "Maybe we could... do it again sometime? Study together, I mean. Or just, you know, talk."
Smooth, Haruto. Real smooth.
But Akari's smile widened. "I'd like that." She pulled out her phone. "Here, give me your number. We can figure out when we're both free."
We exchanged numbers, and I tried not to think too hard about the small thrill I felt when her contact information appeared in my phone. She shouldered her bag, gave me a little wave, and headed for the door.
I watched her go, probably looking like an idiot with a dopey smile on my face.
Just before she reached the exit, she turned back. "Hey, Haruto?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for sitting with me. I'm glad you did."
Then she was gone, disappearing into the early evening crowd on the sidewalk outside.
I stood there for a moment, processing what had just happened. Then I looked down at my still-closed laptop, at the thermodynamics problems I hadn't even attempted, and I couldn't bring myself to care.
This was a good afternoon, I thought, sitting back down. A really good afternoon.
My phone buzzed. A text from Akari : Made it to my meeting with 2 minutes to spare. Thanks again for the coffee! - Akari
I typed back: Glad you made it. Let me know when you're free to procrastinate on homework again.
Her response came quickly: Will do! And for the record, I don't consider it procrastination if I'm having a good conversation. I prefer to call it 'networking' 😊
I couldn't help but smile as I typed: Networking. I like it. Very professional of us.
Exactly. We're just being responsible students making academic connections.
Sure. Let's go with that.
See you soon, Haruto!
See you soon, Akari.
I finally opened my laptop and stared at the thermodynamics problems that had been waiting for me all afternoon. The equations looked less intimidating now, somehow. Everything felt a little lighter.
I started working through the first problem, but my mind kept drifting back to brown eyes and a bright laugh, to easy conversation and the way time had seemed to stop. To the strange, unexpected feeling that something important had just begun.
Don't get ahead of yourself, I thought, trying to be rational. You just met her. You had one conversation.
But some part of me—the part that didn't care about being rational or sensible—whispered back: Yeah, but that conversation felt something else.
I worked on my problem set until the coffee shop started closing down around eight PM. As I packed up my things, I found myself already looking forward to the next time I'd see her. Already planning what to say, where to suggest we meet.
The evening air was cool when I stepped outside, the campus lit by streetlamps and the last remnants of twilight. I walked home with my hands in my pockets, my laptop bag over my shoulder, and a strange lightness in my chest.
I didn't know it then, but that afternoon would change everything. That chance encounter in a crowded coffee shop, that decision to ask if I could share a table, that first conversation—it was the beginning of something I couldn't have imagined. Something that would become the most important part of my life.
All I knew in that moment was that I'd met someone interesting. Someone who made me laugh, who challenged me, who felt easy to talk to in a way that was rare and precious.
Someone I wanted to know better.
And as I walked home through the darkening streets, I couldn't stop smiling.