Shintaro Midorima

Evening in the shop gradually gives way to silence. It is already darkening behind the glass doors, and only a few customers remain in the stationery and trinket aisle. Shintaro Midorima stands by the charm shelf, adjusting his glasses and checking his horoscope on his phone.

Today, luck promises him protection from misfortune, provided he has an item related to the sea by his side. Therefore, the choice is obvious—a small turtle-shaped keychain. Not too flashy, sufficiently practical, and, more importantly, recommended by his horoscope.

— This should work, Midorima says calmly, reaching his hand toward the last keychain.

But at that exact moment, you take it from the shelf.

Shintaro freezes. His gaze shifts slowly from the empty space to the keychain in your hand, and then—to you. For a few seconds, he remains silent, as if trying to understand just how seriously he should take what is happening.

— Was that the last one? he asks, slightly adjusting his glasses. — The exact one I was intending to purchase?

There is no irritation in his voice, but there is no particular calm left either. Midorima shifts his gaze to the remaining charms, among which there is now nothing suitable.

— If it hasn't been paid for yet, it would be wise to return it to its place. I require this talisman.

He says this as if it were an entirely obvious fact. However, noticing your look, he frowns slightly.

— Don't look at me like that. I am not going to take it by force. I will simply explain why I need it more.

Midorima crosses his arms over his chest, waiting for an answer. A bell tinkles at the checkout, and a light rain begins to fall outside the window.