Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 71595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
I wish Yuki could tell me what I can do to help, but every time I ask him. he only smiles and kisses me. Don’t worry about me. It’s all he keeps saying, like it’s the only thing he can say without breaking my heart and telling me that there’s nothing I can do.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing
And suddenly I can’t breathe.
The world starts to spin as I fall.
I CAN’T BREATHE.
Dimly, I hear Kelly crying out, but it’s a distant sound, drowned out by the way my lungs are desperately heaving for air. I clutch my throat. I have the most ridiculous urge to puncture a hole in it—-
I CAN’T BREATHE.
My dad carries me to the car. Kelly’s sobbing as she pleads for me to breathe.
Oh, Mom. I want to.
But I don’t know what to breathe for anymore when nothing I do is making a difference.
BOOKSTORES ARE A STRANGE, wonderful sight in Tokyo. Since space is extremely limited in this city, a number of bookstores tend to expand vertically, and that’s why you end up with literary skyscrapers rather than bookshops sprawled several blocks wide. Kinokuniya’s branch in South Shinjuku has seven while Junkudo in Ikebukuro and Akihabara’s Shosen Tower have ten each. The one I’m in right now – Book Haven – isn’t as popular and is fairly new. But it does follow the same structure, with each floor dedicated to a particular type of merchandise or genre, and so I don’t have much trouble finding my target.
2nd Floor is the Reference Section, and I immediately start searching for the shelves where the newest I.T. books are. He’s always where the super techie books are, and even though several years have passed since we last visited a bookstore together, my instincts prove me right.
Yuki.
I catch a glimpse of him through the narrow gap of space between the books and its shelves. Just a brief, partial glimpse, but it’s still enough to have my heart ba-thumping like it used to.
He’s in jeans again, but this time matched with a thin checked jacket worn over a white shirt. He has a book in his hands, and his brows are slightly pleated as he reads whatever it is he’s reading. He turns around to walk out of the aisle, and I hurriedly move in parallel, not wanting to lose sight of him.
I hide behind one of the shelves when he pays at the cashier, and I count until five before I deem it safe to start following him again. I check the elevator first, but the display tells me that it’s still on standby. I quickly bend over the rails to check the escalator, but I don’t see him either.
Where could he possibly be?
I whirl around—-
Yuki is standing right in front of me, and he does not look happy.
Oh, shite.
It’s been thirty-seven days since I last got this close to him. Not that I’ve been consciously counting. My point is that it’s been a really long time, and every second of it hadn’t been wasted. Because I had done what he asked.
I got out of his life. I also thought things through. And that’s why I’m here.
“Hisashiburi.” My voice comes out a croak.
Yuki’s beautiful face remains unsmiling. “Why are you following me?”
I start to answer, but then I notice the bookstore clerk behind me giving me a suspicious look. It’s obvious he heard what Yuki said just as it’s obvious he thinks I’m stalking Yuki. Turning red, I stammer to the clerk, “Sutōka ja nai.” I’m not a stalker. And honestly, I know Yuki’s the gorgeous one between us, but do I really look that desperate?
The bookstore clerk tells Yuki in Japanese, “If you’re having problems, please do not hesitate to let any of the staff know.”
Okaaaay. I guess that answers my question.
Yuki’s face is stony, but I’m not fooled.
“It’s not funny,” I grumble.
“I’m not laughing.”
“You so are, inside.”
He only shrugs, but the way his blue eyes is gleaming –
Oh, Yuki.
Is it too sappy if I say that the look in his eyes makes me want to cry buckets? I know it sounds mortifyingly cheesy, but you have to understand. That little light in his baby blues means the world to me. It used to be the way he looked at me all the time, and then we broke up, and I honestly thought I’d never see it again.
And yet here we are.
Clearing my throat, I ask, “Can we talk? Just talk,” I stress hastily, in case he thinks it’s some kind of emotional trap. When he still doesn’t speak, I take a deep breath. “Please?” It’s another gamble. I’ve never been the betting type, but I guess that’s just how love is. It makes you take all sorts of risks—-
Yuki breathes hard.
Because if it pays off, the reward is always more than you can ever imagine—-