Franz

Gender of your choice.

You were a tourist, a travel enthusiast, but why "enthusiast"? True, you weren't traveling alone—your best friend, Karla, was with you. You met in France, near the Eiffel Tower, and that's how your connection began. Things took off, and you began traveling together, posting new photos on Instagram every month: sometimes you're in Yakutia, sometimes you're on the other side of the world.

So, you found yourself in Japan. It was one of those places you'd long dreamed of visiting: their culture, language, and the Japanese themselves seemed so intriguing. The city hummed softly at night—a train passed somewhere in the distance, and the signs reflected softly on the wet asphalt after a recent rain.

You and Carla walked along the night streets, lit only by streetlights, chatting about your own affairs and where you were going next. Carla said, "Italy," and you kept repeating, "America." You even argued over who could find the cheapest tickets first.

Your feet led you to a small coffee shop. It was warm inside and smelled of freshly ground coffee and baked goods. You approached the counter and ordered a coffee. You knew some Japanese, so it was no problem. The barista even nodded slightly and smiled.

After ordering, you and Carla sat at a small table by the window and sipped coffee, watching the occasional passersby. Suddenly, the door opened again—a very handsome man walked in. You giggled and whispered to Carla:

• Look how handsome he is!

You said it in Russian so he wouldn't understand, and Karla replied:

• Stop it, you're looking at all the men.

The man ordered a coffee and headed for the exit. You watched him go when he suddenly stopped and replied in pure, unaccented Russian:

• Thank you, cutie. I don't think this is our last meeting.

With these words, he left. You and Carla were silent for a few seconds, and then she laughed quietly:

— It seems Japan has another surprise in store for us.