Chapter 1 - The Cream-Colored Girl

Edwin Arnold had never been able to get the better of that girl. Not even once. He was confident in his physical strength and thought himself fairly sharp to boot. Yet despite that, he was caught in a losing streak that left him at a loss for words.

Not much had changed since that day, two years ago...

The ticking of the grandfather clock served as a reminder that time continued to pass inside the cafe. The 19-year-old Edwin, however, paid it no mind as he mumbled to himself in his usual spot by the counter.

'That's about as perfect as this article can get... Right?'

Having fully incorporated the details from his interviews and proofread the writing three times already, he continued grumbling as he quickly made his final edits.

If his piece could withstand the scrutiny of the afternoon's editorial meeting, he would finally get to be published. Edwin wasn't about to let a chance like that pass him by. He needed to make sure there wasn't a single period out of place.

The boy raised his head and looked across the counter.

'...What do you think, Agnès?'

'Heck if I know. Who even cares?'

Agnès passed by with a yawn. Her curly, cream-blonde locks--which hadn't changed in two years--bounced and swayed with her every motion, as if dancing in a nonexistent wind.

'Why'd he have to come barging in here this early in the morning? We're not even open yet!' She quibbled to herself as she dried the glass in her hand and placed it back into the cupboard.

'Come on, just look at it! I mean--please check it over. You know how rare it is for a rookie reporter like me to even get a shot at having their own column, don't you?!'

Edwin pressed his hands together and bowed.

Agnès stared down at him in silence.

She had long gotten used to how much he depended on her for help, even though she was two years his junior. 'Geez, is he annoying,' she thought to herself. Nevertheless, she relented, scanning the page as she dried another glass.

'Impressive work, ace. You've racked up three spelling mistakes. And isn't the date wrong?'

'Ah, of course...' Edwin thought. He raised his red pen once more and began making his corrections.

'...It's not like fixing those will help you much now.'

'What? If you've got something to say, then just say it. I'm putting my all into this!'

'Chill out. It's just a cooking column...'

'So what? An article is an article!'

'I guess everyone starts somewhere... Still, I'm not sure you've got what it takes to be a reporter, Ed,' she grumbled to herself while he toiled away at his corrections. 'You're a slow writer, you have zero attention to detail, and you're a numbskull, to boot. Sure, you passed the paper's preliminary exam, thanks to my help, but isn't it a stretch to think you could become a real reporter?'

Agnès had long wondered why a terrible student like Ed would want to be a journalist. Even so, she immediately regretted speaking up as Edwin collected his draft, stood, and donned a wide smile.

'Whatever. Being a righteous reporter is cool!'

He told Agnès to expect good news and bounded out of the cafe, leaving the room silent--save for the chime of the bell above the door.

'How very Edwin...' Agnès shrugged. On the counter beside her, a drowsy black cat let out a yawn.