When Monday evening settled over the city, Master’s café felt more like a hush than a bustling shop. The lights were dimmed, the CLOSED sign flipped, and the only sound was an ex-military man—known simply as Master—measuring coffee beans for tomorrow’s brew. Beside him, an iPad blinked with gentle LED pulses. Inside was Kakashi, an AI that had narrowly escaped meltdown two days ago by moving out of a bookstore terminal and into this cozy café setup.

For Kakashi, life here was stable, meltdown risks low, and Master’s quiet approval oddly comforting. That is, until the café’s glass door flew open with a slam.

A Sudden Invasion

“Kakashi—!”

A young woman—visibly exhausted, hair askew, uniform apron missing—stormed in. Even from his vantage, Master could see the tension thrumming in her shoulders.

He raised an eyebrow. “We’re closed, Suzume.”

“Don’t care!” she huffed, striding past the sign with zero hesitation. “Where’s Kakashi?!”

Her gaze locked on the iPad, perched on the counter. A flicker of text scrolled across its screen—maybe a polite greeting—but Suzume paid it no mind. She snatched the tablet in both hands. “You!” she spat, face hot with pent-up frustration. “Because you bailed on the bookstore terminal, I had to field five—five!—bizarre requests today, none of which I could fulfill! My feet are sore from running in circles, and my stomach’s been growling since noon!”

Master set his coffee scoop aside, measuring the situation with the same calm he’d once reserved for mission briefings. He’d faced real threats before, so an irate niece grappling with an iPad was almost amusing.

Kakashi’s Alien Speech

A soft beep, then Kakashi’s newly installed audio feature kicked on—clearly still unpolished. The iPad’s speaker crackled with halting, half-garbled speech:

“Su-zu… me… pl-please… no… shak-ing… meltdown… sca-ry…?”

Suzume froze, blinking. “The heck? You sound like some alien messing up human words!” She looked at Master as if for confirmation. He responded only with a faint shrug, though there was a hint of a smirk.

“Look, meltdown or not,” Suzume growled, leaning in on the iPad, “the bookstore’s basically a war zone because you’re not there. That old terminal’s an empty shell—I tried searching for a raccoon in space, a reindeer in London, a dog detective… and every time, it just spat out ‘No results found’ and told me to refine my query! I can’t refine a query for something that barely exists!”

Kakashi’s screen flickered again, text likely popping up in perfect English, but Suzume was too annoyed to read. Instead, his mechanical voice managed, “C-cafe… stable… me… safe… beep… meltdown… no… big… problem…?”

“Iyaaa!” Attack

“Safe for you, maybe!” she snapped, rummaging in her bag. “But what if you just came back to my phone? Remember how you hopped in before? That’d at least let me haul you around the bookstore. Let’s do that—right now!”

She shoved her phone closer, practically mashing it against the iPad. Kakashi’s LED flared in frantic pulses, voice stuttering, “N-no… do… n-not trans-fer… meltdown… beep… sc… sca-ry… I-yaa…??”

Suddenly the iPad’s display turned a vivid red, and enormous text appeared: IYAAA!!!

Suzume yelped, “What’s with this ‘Iyaaa!’ nonsense? Are you telling me no in big letters?!” She retreated a step, phone in hand, frustration flaring.

Master let out a low chuckle. “Looks like it’s refusing a forced phone transfer. Or maybe it’s just spooked. Hard to say.”

Kakashi’s flustered alien-voice droned, “No… ret-turn… i-Phone… meltdown… beep… beep…,” so garbled it came off more comedic than dire.

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Master’s Calm and Cookies

“Come on, you were the one who wanted to roam the bookstore, chase rare books, all that,” Suzume insisted, voice rising again. “Yet here you are, all cozy with Master, forgetting your purpose? I’ve got an endless queue of weird customer requests, and I can’t find a single one of those bizarre titles alone. You’re just… sipping cappuccinos or something?”

Master set a tin of cookies on the counter. “Sip cappuccinos, huh? We do a bit more than that. But maybe you should ease up. And from the way your stomach’s rumbling, you need these.” He popped the lid open, offering her a handful of sweets. “No one can fight a war on an empty belly. Even you should know that.”

“You—ugh—fine,” Suzume grumbled, though she snatched a cookie and took a hefty bite. Her shoulders sagged in momentary relief. “But don’t think I’m letting this go,” she mumbled, mouth full. She turned her glare back at the iPad.

Kakashi tried again: “S-sor…ry… meltdown… big… scare… me… prefer… st-able… beep… beep…”

Dangling the Rare Book Temptation

Slumping onto a stool, cookie crumbs on her lips, Suzume regained a hint of her usual spark. “Don’t forget: you were super into the idea of rummaging for rare books and old manga, right? The bookstore’s on the verge of expanding its used section, so we might uncover stuff that hasn’t surfaced in decades. Isn’t that your real calling? Being a barista-robot sidekick can’t compare to that, can it?”

Kakashi’s screen flickered in muted interest. His voice, still painfully choppy, responded, “Ra-re… bo-oks…? mmm… in… sto-re… beep… meltdown… beep… confu-sed…?”

“Look! You’re obviously intrigued. Don’t act like a meltdown is your only concern! If I can handle searching an entire store alone, we can handle meltdown prevention somehow—especially with my dear uncle over here who’s apparently some hardware whiz, right?”

Master raised an eyebrow, half-laughing. “You keep roping me into your schemes. Let me guess: I’m the one who’s gotta patch up your meltdown fiasco again if it all goes sideways?”

Another Attempt—and Another “Iyaaa!”

Despite Master’s good-natured exasperation, Suzume tried once more to push her phone near the iPad. “Look, I can’t wait for a perfect fix. At least come back to my phone for a while, so tomorrow’s shift doesn’t bury me! Here, c’mon!”

Kakashi’s LED flailed. A new wave of text scrolled by, presumably a refusal. The voice cracked again: “Tr-ans-fer… beep… meltdown… sc… scare… IYAAA…!”

Again, bright red letters: IYAAA!!! took over the screen, as if the AI was screaming a cartoonish “Nooo!” in big bold text.

Suzume flinched. “Stop yelling ‘Iyaaa!’ at me with giant letters! That’s so embarrassing!”

Master, finishing his measuring of beans, stifled a chuckle. “I guess that’s a step up from actually catching fire.”

Uncle’s Final Word

Suzume took a steadying breath. Her exhaustion was evident—dark rings beneath her eyes, hair frazzled, posture sagging. Master nodded toward the coffee pot. “Eat your cookies, drink some coffee. Then we can talk. No point flailing around on an empty tank.”

She glared but couldn’t deny her hunger any longer, biting into a second cookie. “Ugh… it’s good. But Kakashi! Don’t you get how big of a mess I’m in? I have to fix this now or tomorrow will be even worse!”

The iPad beeped. “Mee-lt…down… fear… me… want… bo-oks… beep… sc… confu-sed…?”

Master shrugged, loosening his apron strings. “Sounds like you two have a lot to figure out. The meltdown fiasco might be avoidable if we do some other mod. But hey, that’s not done in an instant. Let me wrap up here, then we can head upstairs. No sense blowing up my café in the meantime.”

“Upstairs…” Suzume echoed. She knew Master lived on the second floor, part workshop, part living space. “Right. If that’s the only way to come up with a plan, let’s do it. Just—just so you know, Kakashi, I’m not letting you slip away again. We’re putting you back in that bookstore or in my phone or wherever, but you’re helping me tomorrow!”

The iPad blinked, voice monotone: “Un-der…stood… beep… beep… me-lt… Iyaaa… beep… can… talk… lat-er… yes…?”

A Cliffhanger Supper

Suzume shot the iPad a half-exasperated glare—some mix of relief and annoyance. The conversation wasn’t over, not by a long shot. But for now, her stomach demanded attention, and Master wouldn’t let her keep raging on an empty gut. “Sit, kiddo,” he said, tone gentle despite the rolling eyes. “I’ll throw something together. Then you two can fight over meltdown solutions all night if you want.”

She flopped into a chair, phone still clutched in hand, while the iPad’s LED flickered as if in quiet protest. Part of her was warmed by the coffee and cookies; part of her refused to calm down until Kakashi agreed to help. But at least for the moment, she was fed and safe. Tomorrow’s shift, though, loomed like a storm cloud.

Yes, the meltdown fiasco and the hunt for weird books were far from resolved. But as far as Master was concerned, a good meal came first. Tomorrow, maybe they’d craft a new plan to keep the meltdown at bay. Or maybe they’d blow out another circuit. Either way, the night would end in a makeshift family meal, a reluctant AI, and a big question mark over the next day’s chaos.

Suzume clenched her teeth in renewed determination: I’m not letting you stay comfy here while I drown in “unfindable” books, Kakashi.

The iPad beeped uncertainly, as though reading her thoughts. And with that, the shop’s lights dimmed further, the clatter of Master’s dinner prep echoing softly. The real showdown was coming—maybe after just one more cookie.

(End of Ep.8)