Episode 1: The One Who Never Buys Books"
A small, quiet bookstore tucked in a Tokyo alley. Rain taps against the window. Ren Fumiya, a desperate man, wakes up. He changes his clothes, gets fresh, and opens his small bookstore.
“The place Ren lives, it’s always likely to rain—and Ren hates rain.”
Ren adjusted the shelves, and he cleaned them with love. He had always been surrounded by books since he was one year old—it was always clear that Ren loved books more than anything.
In his store, only a few loyal customers would come. They would buy a book, or read for a while, and then leave.
A normal Tuesday, as usual. Rain pouring throughout the day. One customer came, and soon the store was empty again, only Ren sitting, reading the newspaper.
But today, someone new appeared.
The door chimes—
A wet guy walks in. (Aoi Taishi Nakagawa), camera slung over his shoulder, dripping with attitude and actual water. Ren finds Aoi irritating, as Aoi’s attitude wasn’t good.
Aoi: You don’t sell umbrellas here, huh?
Ren (softly, looking up): He wondered who this new face was, and replied, “No… only shelter.”
Aoi smirks but sits. Doesn’t buy anything. Just watches the rain. Ren watches him watching the rain.
As Ren watched Aoi watching the rain, he grew curious about him. But Ren never found the courage to ask—who was he? Where did he live? Was he a tourist?
Montage:
Aoi kept showing up. At first, Ren thought it was coincidence—perhaps the man liked the smell of books, or maybe he was waiting for someone. But then, day after day, the chime of the little bell above the door would ring, and there he was again. Always wet, always careless with the way he shook the rain from his hair, always carrying that old camera strapped across his shoulder.
Ren never asked why. He simply noticed. He noticed the way Aoi never bought anything, not even once, yet still walked in as though the store belonged to him. He noticed how Aoi would sit by the window, tapping his fingers lightly against the glass, as if keeping rhythm with the rain. He noticed that Aoi never smiled—except when the rain grew heavier, when the world outside blurred, and Aoi’s smirk turned softer, almost like relief.
Ren started making tea. Quietly, without words, just a cup he would set on the small table near the window. At first Aoi only looked at it, suspicious, then one day he drank. After that, Ren didn’t have to ask. He would simply prepare it when the bell rang.
They didn’t talk much. Sometimes only the faint shuffle of Ren turning a page, or the faint click of Aoi’s camera. Silence filled the space, but it was not heavy—it was the kind of silence that lingered, almost comforting, like the rain outside. Their eyes would meet from time to time, not long, not deep, but enough for something unspoken to pass between them. Ren pretended to look away first. Aoi never explained himself.
The days blurred like this—tea, rain, books, and glances.
One evening, as Ren was closing up, he noticed something on the counter. A single photograph.
He picked it up carefully, the edges still warm from a hand that had just set it down. The photo was black and white, grainy but intimate. And there—was himself.
Ren, standing by the window, a book open in his hands, the rain blurring behind him. A candid. Unposed. As though someone had been quietly watching him all this time.
Ren stood there for a long moment, staring at the photograph. His own face, caught in a frame he never asked for, seen by eyes he didn’t yet understand.
The bell above the door was silent. Aoi had already gone.
Guys chapter one-page two may take a little while to came so be patient
~ your prachi ~
