In the corner of a trendy cafe, a striking young man was deep in contemplation.

He had the air of a brooding artist as he watched the cars and pedestrians passing by the cafe’s storefront. His hand—when it wasn't thoughtfully held to his chin—would gently raise a cup of espresso to his lips; his lips—when they weren't supping the dark liquor—would release a troubled sigh. The jet-black curtains of his parted hair framed his face—but dark glasses hid his eyes, obscuring the thoughts deeper within.

The baristas whispered among themselves as they stole glances at the mysterious stranger. Who was this man? What kind of sophisticated thoughts were hidden behind those tinted pince-nez of his?

‘... Man, hiding in this cafe was a bad idea. I can feel everyone staring at me… Do I really stick out that much?’

…

Let's go a few minutes back in time.

Not a hint of that “mysterious, broody” aura was present as ‘Louis’—or rather, Kazerou—poked his head into the living room with a goofy smile.

“Heya kids! Who wants cake?”

““We do! (... do!)”

His three younger siblings responded enthusiastically—the twins answering simultaneously and the youngest echoing them, as usual; however, they failed to notice the mischievous glint in their brother's eyes—possibly because he was wearing sunglasses indoors, as usual.

“Anyways,” Kazerou told them as he patted their heads. “I’ll be out of the house for a while, so——”

The eldest brother roared from the other side of the house. “KAZEROOOU! WHERE ARE YOU, YA CAKE-SNATCHING——” 

“——Let Mom and Dad know I’ll be back by dinner. See ya.”

““Bye! (... See ya.)””

Shortly after Kazerou absconded, Daichi, the Elder Brother arrived, skidding to a halt in the living room’s doorway.

Unlike Kazerou’s lithe and springy frame, Daichi was built more like an ox, with an imposingly tall and broad build. Although no one was quite sure how he and Kazerou were related, Daichi did apparently inherit the perpetually-wearing-sunglasses gene; however, whereas Kazerou’s glasses made him look like a shady, back-alley merchant, Daichi’s sporty shades gave more of a “Duke Nukem” impression.

“Where’d that greasy, cake-snatchin’ weasel run off to…” he growled. The fancy bakery down the street was selling a special limited-time cake with mixed fruit and ganache between the layers. Daichi had managed to buy a small cake for himself—but when he checked the fridge, all he found was the empty box. And, knowing his family, there was really only one possible culprit.

“Have you three seen a weasel come through here?” He asked his younger siblings.

The three exchanged a look.

‘Tell him…?’ ‘Should we..?’ ‘But Kazu gave us cake…’

“... I see. He’s already bought your silence.”

Even without them saying anything, Daichi had a rough idea of what happened. Like a seasoned hunter, he was used to reading his brother’s (prey’s) tracks… or he simply noticed that his younger siblings were unabashedly eating the stolen cake.

That said, he obviously couldn't get mad at his baby siblings—Kazerou probably just asked if they wanted cake without giving any context; indeed, all the blame fell squarely on Kazu's shoulders.

However, what really infuriated Daichi was——

‘The cake was cut into quarters… If each of them got their own piece, then the last slice of cake must’ve been eaten by…’

… Daichi passed his judgement.

““Ah. Kazu is gonna die. (... Again.)””

The younger siblings were quick to pick up on the errant twitch of Daichi’s face. Unsurprisingly, this wasn't the first time that Kazerou provoked the Elder Brother’s wrath.

———

(EXTRA: Why hide in the cafe?)

“I don't usually go to places like that, so I figured Daichi wouldn't look for me there. The problem is… I don't usually go to places like that, so I started getting a bit stressed after a few minutes and ordered an espresso—but then everyone started staring at me, which really made me freak out.”

———

(EXTRA 2: Thoughts on Kazerou…)

“Kazu is a bit like…” “A punching bag?” “A cockroach?”

… If anything, the siblings had faith in Kazerou’s resilience.

———

Spoiler

wimbledon

NSOL is being played around the world, so it's natural that there'll be people from different countries, yea?

... Why can everyone still talk with each other? Language is being automatically translated by the game system.

How convenient (mostly for me)!

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