The warm glow of the lanterns flickered gently inside the quiet lobby of the hot spring, casting a soft golden hue over the wooden interior. The faint sound of bubbling water from the private baths could still be heard in the background, along with the occasional creak of the floorboards as customers shuffled out for the night.
But Nina?...She wasn't paying attention to any of it.
She sat behind the counter, resting her cheek against her palm, lazily fiddling with a small coin between her fingers, spinning it absentmindedly.
Her verdant eyes—usually sharp and commanding—were now glazed over with boredom, half-lidded and far too distracted.
Because, once again, she was thinking about him.
Kafka...That annoying, frustrating, stupid man who refused to leave her head no matter how much she tried to push him out.
It was starting to get ridiculous.
At first, that she would simply think of him a few times and then move on with her day. But it didn't.
It only got worse.
