mazegame/projects/kissaten_yugure/docs/SCRIPT.md

Kissaten Yūgure — Script

First draft of all four character arcs, plus order lines, brew reactions and ambient lines. Written as prose-first per PLAN.md §9 — no data format yet.

This is a draft to edit, not to approve. The characters are yours; if anyone's voice is wrong, it's wrong now and cheap to fix.

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How to read this

Every beat is one dialogue box: 3 lines × 26 characters, ASCII, as laid out in DESIGN.md §4. Every line here has been checked against that limit.

**B4 · the crack** — `day>=7` — troubled
    Mock exam results came.
    Law faculty. Tokyo.
    Father framed the sheet.

• B4 — beat number. Beats fire in order; a beat's trigger is also gated on the previous beat having played (arc_stage).
• Trigger — conditions from the vocabulary in PLAN.md §4.
• Expression — neutral / happy / troubled. Three per character, per DESIGN.md §5.

Triggers are deliberately loose. Tighten them once pacing is playable — day numbers here assume roughly one visit per character per 2 days.

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1. Hoshino Aki — the exam student

Cream soda. Weekday evenings, scarcer as exams approach. Want: pass the Tokyo entrance exams. Secret: the course is her father's choice. She wants astronomy, at a small college in Sendai with an observatory on the roof. Change: orders coffee instead of the soda.

The dusk sky through the shop window is her arc's spine — she is the reason that window is there. Beats 1–6 are the M3 vertical slice.

B1 — day>=2, phase=evening — neutral Cream soda, please. The big one, if that's all right.

B2 — day>=3 — neutral Exams in the spring. They say third year goes fast. It hasn't.

B3 — day>=5, served=CREAM_SODA — happy You remembered. Nobody at home remembers what I like.

B4 · the crack — day>=7 — troubled Mock exam results came. Law faculty. Tokyo. Father framed the sheet.

B5 — day>=9, weather=rain — neutral Can't see the sky today. ...Sorry. That was a strange thing to say.

B6 · slice ends — day>=11, served=CREAM_SODA — neutral Master, do you ever look out that window and think about anything else?

B7 — day>=13 — troubled Father's friend teaches at the Tokyo faculty. It's arranged, basically.

B8 — day>=15, absent>=3 — troubled Sorry I haven't come. Cram school added hours. I missed this place.

B9 — day>=17, affinity>=60 — neutral There's a small college in Sendai. They have an observatory on the roof.

B10 — day>=19 — happy I wrote for a prospectus. It came in a brown envelope. I hid it.

B11 — day>=21, weather=clear, phase=evening — happy Look - that's Vega. You can see it even from town, if you know where.

B12 — day>=23 — troubled Applications close on the twentieth. I haven't told them.

B13 · the change — day>=25, served=COFFEE — neutral Not the soda today. Coffee. Black, like you make for Ota-san.

B14 — day>=27 — troubled I told them. Mother cried. Father hasn't spoken since.

B15 · resolution — day>=30 — happy Sendai. I posted it. Father drove me to the post office. Said nothing.

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2. Ōta-san — the retired stationmaster

Black coffee, no sugar. Early mornings. Rain makes him certain. Want: somewhere to be at a fixed time. Secret: the ten-fifteen was cut in his last spring. His precision keeps a timetable that no longer exists. Change: stops apologising for lingering; orders a second cup.

B1 — day>=1, phase=morning — neutral Coffee. Black. Seven forty. You open at seven forty.

B2 — day>=3, phase=morning — neutral Your father opened at seven forty as well. I never asked him why.

B3 — day>=5, weather=rain — neutral Rain. I always came in the rain. The platform had no roof at the end.

B4 — day>=7, served=COFFEE — happy Thirty-one years I poured tea on that platform. Never coffee.

B5 · the crack — day>=9 — troubled They cut the ten-fifteen in my last spring. Nobody came to say so.

B6 — day>=11 — neutral I still wake at five. The body keeps a timetable of its own.

B7 — day>=13, absent>=2 — troubled Forgive me. I'm keeping your counter. I'll go. ...No. Not yet.

B8 — day>=15, affinity>=50 — neutral The house is not small. That is the trouble. It was sized for four.

B9 — day>=17 — neutral My daughter telephones on Sundays. Eleven a.m. She is very punctual.

B10 — day>=19, weather=rain — happy You knew I'd come. The pot was already on. That is a fine thing.

B11 — day>=21 — neutral The station is a convenience store now. I have not gone in.

B12 — day>=23 — troubled I went in. For batteries. The ticket window is where the freezers are.

B13 — day>=25, affinity>=80 — neutral You keep good time, Master. That is not a small compliment from me.

B14 · the change — day>=27 — happy I'll have a second cup. I am not going anywhere in particular today.

B15 · resolution — day>=30 — happy Seven forty. Tomorrow also, I think. That is all I wanted.

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3. Fujimoto — the manga artist

Strongest coffee, endless refills, toast set when reminded to eat. Very late. Frequency and panic follow a monthly deadline cycle. Want: finish the chapter. Secret: the series is being cancelled. Comes here to be anywhere that isn't the desk. Change: the shop appears in the final chapter.

Fujimoto carries the comedy. A cozy game with four sad people is not cozy — it's a wake. Let them be funny about their own misery.

B1 — day>=2, phase=evening — neutral Strongest you have. No, stronger. I have eleven pages by Friday.

B2 — day>=4 — troubled Do you know how long eleven pages is? Neither do I anymore.

B3 — day>=6, served=COFFEE — neutral Refill. And again after. I'll pay for the pot. Cheaper by the hour.

B4 — day>=8 — troubled Editor called me 'reliable' today. That's what they say before.

B5 — day>=10, absent>=4 — troubled Four days at the desk. I have drawn one hand. It's a bad hand.

B6 · the crack — day>=12 — troubled I don't come here to work, Master. I come here to not.

B7 — day>=14, served=TOAST — happy When did I last eat? Don't answer that. ...Thank you for this.

B8 — day>=16 — neutral Thirty-two volumes. Nine years. My whole twenties, in a drawer.

B9 · the secret — day>=18, affinity>=50 — troubled They're ending it. Two more chapters. I asked for three.

B10 — day>=20 — troubled Nine years and I get two chapters to say goodbye properly.

B11 — day>=22 — neutral I've been drawing this counter. Not for work. Just drawing it.

B12 — day>=24, weather=rain — neutral Rain's good for pages. Nobody expects you anywhere in the rain.

B13 · the change — day>=26, affinity>=70 — happy The last chapter is set in a coffee shop. I hope that's all right.

B14 — day>=28 — happy Here. Page forty. That's your counter. That's your lamp.

B15 · resolution — day>=31 — happy It's done. Nine years. I'm starting something new. Set here, I think.

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4. Nakajima-san — the widow

Two coffees. One with milk, one black. Slow, seasonal, weather-tied. Want: keep a routine that belonged to two people. Secret: the second coffee is his. It goes cold every time. Change: one day she orders one.

Handle with care. Her hook is the strongest in the game because the player solves it unaided — the order is visible in the serve mechanic long before anything is said. Per PLAN.md §8 item 14: no one but Nakajima-san ever explains it, and she does so obliquely, at B4, and never apologises for it. Do not let another character mention her situation.

Her arc runs on a slower day scale than the others by design — she should feel like someone you see less often.

B1 — day>=4 — neutral Two coffees, please. One with milk. The other black.

B2 — day>=8 — neutral The same, please. You remember which is which. That's good.

B3 — day>=12, served=TWO_COFFEE — neutral No, don't clear it yet. Leave it a while. I'm not finished.

B4 · the crack — day>=16, season=autumn — neutral He liked the autumn. Said the town looked better in brown.

B5 — day>=20 — neutral Forty-one years of two coffees. It's a hard habit.

B6 — day>=24, weather=rain — troubled He'd have hated today. He walked everywhere. Never once took a bus.

B7 — day>=28, affinity>=40 — neutral Your father served us at that end table. We were young then.

B8 — day>=32 — neutral I know it goes cold. That isn't the point of it, Master.

B9 — day>=36, season=winter — troubled Three years this month. People stop asking after the second one.

B10 — day>=40 — neutral My son says it's time I stopped. He means well. He means well.

B11 — day>=44, season=spring — neutral The cherry by the station is out. He'd have said it's early.

B12 — day>=48, affinity>=70 — neutral I don't cry about it. I just like ordering for two. It's an hour.

B13 — day>=52 — neutral You never asked me why. That's why I come here and not the new place.

B14 · the change — day>=56 — neutral One coffee today. ...With milk. Just the one.

B15 · resolution — day>=60, affinity>=90 — happy One, please. I'll take the window seat. He never liked it.

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5. Order lines

Spoken on arrival, before the brew. Rotate at random within a character; they're texture, not story.

Aki Cream soda, please. The usual, Master. Soda. I've earned it.

Ōta-san Coffee. Black. The usual, if you please. Coffee. No sugar. Ever.

Fujimoto Coffee. Keep it coming. Something that will hurt. Strongest. And toast.

Nakajima-san Two coffees, please. The same as always. Two. Milk in one.

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6. Brew reactions

Replaces the generic quality lines currently hardcoded in kissaten.c. Quality bands as implemented: 3 = perfect, 2 = good, 1 = fair, 0 = off (thin or over-strong depending on which side of centre you locked).

	Aki	Ōta-san	Fujimoto	Nakajima-san
3	The ice is just right.	That is correct coffee.	Oh, that's cruel. Good.	He'd have liked that one.
2	Mm. That's a good one.	Good. Very good.	That'll do damage.	Very good, Master.
1	Thank you, Master.	Thank you.	Fine. It's wet.	Thank you, dear.
0 thin	It's a bit flat today.	A little pale today.	Is this tea?	A little weak today.
0 strong	Ooh. That's a lot.	Strong. I'll manage.	Perfect. Awful. Perfect.	Oh my. That's bracing.

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7. Ambient lines

Shown while the shop is empty. The four currently in kissaten.c are placeholders; these replace them. Weather- and season-gated where marked.

Any time The radio hums softly. The kettle ticks as it cools. Steam on the window glass. A bicycle bell, outside. The lamp buzzes, once.

Rain — weather=rain Rain taps at the window. Someone runs past under a newspaper. The gutter is singing.

Clear evening — weather=clear, phase=evening Dusk settles over the street. The sky goes orange, then nothing.

Autumn — season=autumn A leaf is stuck to the door.

Winter — season=winter The window fogs faster than you can wipe it.

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8. Notes and open questions

Aki's soda doesn't fit the brew minigame. The siphon minigame is coffee-specific, but her usual is a cream soda. My recommendation: soda skips the minigame entirely — it's poured, not brewed. That's not a workaround, it's an improvement: her visits get a different, lighter rhythm than the three coffee drinkers, which suits a teenager dropping in after cram school. Her B13 switch to coffee then means she enters the minigame for the first time, which is a lovely mechanical echo of the story beat.

Nakajima-san's two coffees imply a two-brew serve. Simplest reading: one minigame, both cups. Making the player brew twice would be tedious and would also make the second cup feel like a chore rather than a small sadness.

Cross-references are deliberate. Aki's B13 names Ōta-san; Ōta's B2 and Nakajima's B7 both reference your father running the shop before you. These cost nothing and make the cast feel like one place rather than four unrelated visitors. Add more of these freely — but never let anyone discuss Nakajima-san's second cup.

Nobody dies during the game, nobody is cured. All four arcs resolve by someone deciding something small. That is the genre working correctly.

Beat count is 60. At three beats per sitting that's the twenty writing sessions budgeted in PLAN.md §5 — already spent, if this draft survives editing.