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)
When I’m done taping the last corner of the banner to the wall, I get off the stool and turn to Vivi with a beam. “What do you think?” Aside from the whimsical calligraphy for the welcome message, I’ve also painted the entire background and used the cover of my upcoming oneshot as inspiration. It’s been approved for publishing, and I plan to give its final draft to Yuki as a thank-you gift for pushing me to draw and work again.
“Vivi, come on. Don’t you have anything to say?”
“It looks perfect,” she allows.
“Yay!”
“And perfectly undeserved for someone like Alexei Himura,” Vivi finishes.
I make a face. “Stop raining on my parade.”
“I’d bring a tornado to it,” she mutters, “if I thought it would help.”
“Things are going to work between Yuki and me, okay? He asked for two weeks, and he promised that after it, everything will be okay.”
“And you believe him?” she demands incredulously.
“Yes,” I say firmly. “I do.”
Because if I didn’t, wouldn’t that mean I’ve once again failed to trust him and in our feelings?
Wouldn’t that mean I haven’t changed, haven’t learned from our past mistakes?
I love him, and he loves me.
I used to take those things for granted, but not anymore.
Vivi stays around for as long as she can, but I insist on walking her to the station before the last train leaves. I know she can afford taking a cab home, but I don’t think Yuki and I need an audience – especially not one as disapproving as my roommate – if he drops by later.
With just fifteen minutes before midnight, I pace the length of the living room. It’s not much unfortunately, and several five-step laps are more than enough to make me feel silly. I force myself to sit down and grab my phone. Maybe I can play an otome game while waiting. I hear Voltage’s released a new short story for the whole gang in Kissed by the Baddest Bidder.
I tap on the application’s icon, and my heart gives a little leap of excitement when I see all the new stories waiting to be played.
Click.
My credit card gets charged a couple of dollars, but I tell myself it’s for a good cause.
Thirty minutes later, and I’ve made another story purchase.
And another.
And another.
And another.
By the time I’ve played all the new stories, it’s almost dawn, and I’m crying.
Because the stories are really that good.
Just that.
It has nothing to do with the fact that Yuki hasn’t called yet.
I pull the covers up and close my eyes.
When I wake up, I tell myself, everything will be okay.
I’d see my phone full of missed calls or unanswered messages and emails, of Yuki apologizing for being late and wanting to know where I am. I’d play a little hard to get, but then I’d give in, and soon I’ll be in his arms.
I fall asleep, dreaming of what could be, but when I wake up, things are still not what I want them to be. There are missed calls, messages, and emails, too, but they’re from Vivi and my family, and none of them are from the one person I want to hear the most from.
After taking a shower, I jog down and buy several bentos from Paku Paku. They have the best and the cheapest ones, and on a whim, I also splurge on their 1,500-yen eel lunch. It’s a little over my budget, but it’s eel, and I’d have to pay thrice that if I were to order it from a restaurant.
Back in my rented unit, I take one of the boxes, close my eyes and say grace, and afterwards, I murmur out loud, “Itadakimasu.”
The trick to not losing it is to keep things normal.
Time trickles past, and soon it’s time to have lunch.
I take another box out, close my eyes, say grace, and then I say out loud, “Itadakimasu.” But this time, my hands shake a little as I reach for a brand new pair of chopsticks.
Soon, it’s time for dinner, and still I do the same.
I close my eyes.
I say grace.
My lips move, but no sound comes out. Itadakimasu.
And this time, I can’t even close my eyes.
All I can do is cry.
And that’s when I hear my phone rings.
THE LAUGHTER INSIDE the ballroom is raucous, the chatter among the wealthy guests loud and nonstop, their tongues loosened in the only way the finest wine could. The new company established via the Himura-Nakagawa merger was a success, and the prices its stocks fetched on its initial public offering had broken all sorts of records.
Hikari drifted to Alexei’s side, the quintessential Japanese beauty with her artfully coiffed hair and expensive kimono. “Thank you for doing this.”
“It’s the least I can do,” the man she almost married murmured, “after everything.”
“Everything...” Hikari’s lips curved in faint smile. “How unsatisfactorily vague that word is.”