The light from the vending machine spilled out, reflecting off the glass bottle in her hand, colorful paper stars twinkled—glass and paper aren't worth much, but in the hands of certain people, they're like holding up shining stars.
It's Fushimi Roku's first time in two lifetimes receiving an actual birthday gift.
The street was quiet for five seconds, no one spoke.
Seeing his lack of reaction, Minamoto Tamako grew more anxious, shrinking her hand slightly, "You don't like it? Then I'll change it..."
"No, it's nice."
Fushimi Roku took the glass bottle, still warm, wondering how long this person had held it. After examining it for a moment, he casually put it into his pocket and continued, "I was just surprised, how did you know my birthday?"
"Guess."
Minamoto Tamako took out a small pig wallet, stretched out her little hand and pulled out two coins, putting them into the vending machine. She spent her days guessing Mr. Fushimi's thoughts, and she wanted him to guess hers.
