The three-day rule.

You may have heard of it, probably from dozens of romantic comedies that you may have encountered to serious love affairs. Usually on the boy's side, it's something that they do once they get the phone number of their love interest, either through direct or indirect means—well the former seems more reasonable than picking up a message from a stranger that happens to say "I love you, sweetheart."

Anyway, the three-day rule is pretty self-explanatory; you take a break from texting or doing whatever with your significant other for three days. They say that a first day call or chat may seem too eager or desperate (or the girl may judge the boy as possessive), a second day felt as if the act was planned, but the third day seems eerily just the sweet spot. If you ever had some tidbits in economics, it's somewhat similar to the seven-day rule where you should give yourself seven days before deciding if you want to purchase something or not. But hey, you haven't heard all of that from me.

Three-day rule. . . Seven-day rule. . . That could apply to any mishap.

Going back to the three-day rule, some people take it in either two ways: either they take it as a testament to themselves and not get too serious into a relationship, or a benchmark to see if their significant other gives a damn about them—what people call a red flag or a green flag. I hate those two terms because it's just adjacent to cancel culture, which I hate with a passion. We love making problems that don't exist.

Lesson? It's the usual thing that parents say to our hard-headed, ignorant, selfish, and youthful minds: There's always tomorrow for that.

Today's April first, three days after Miko's death.

I didn't realize it's been three days since that whole fiasco happened. But it at least gave us some breathing room for our minds to process, rationalize, and whatnot. Don't get me wrong, it's extremely difficult to move on from the death of someone you love, conditionally or unconditionally.

Actually, Ala-chan texted me yesterday about the wake of Miko's death that will be held at the Seiru National Funeral Parlor. That's exactly my itinerary today. Basically, I woke up at nine, took a bath, and finally made my own breakfast this time—the usual rice with luncheon meat. I was told to dress properly today, so to be on the really safe side, I wore black pants and a white polo shirt with black buttons. If I wore a tie or a bow, I might've been mistaken for a waiter now.

As usual, I waited for Ala-chan to arrive at around ten. I'm not entirely sure why it's not the other way around—I mean Ala-chan's house is pretty near to the train station compared to here. Or is it an excuse for Ala-chan to have more time in my room?

"Waiting is really a mind game, huh?"

Today's quite bland and uncompelling, though it's probably because of the occasion. Instead of me just going about my laptop on the table then either play Solitaire or HeroTom, I just did things minimally this time. Heck, I didn't even open my laptop today. Instead, I just read some of the fat library books from uni (yes, I still occasionally go to uni for that matter, which is a handy service) and for most of the time I just sit like a dead idiot on my thoughts and elements—like just a hundred percent present spiritually, zero percent physically.

Knock knock, sounded at the front door.

"Really, it's been almost an hour now?" I sighed, and placed the book I was reading down the table.

But I waited for a moment. I sat up on the chair attentively as if I was on a stance, as if I was expecting something to happen.

. . . .

Nothing?

Alright then, "I'm co—"

Knock! Kn-kn-kn-kn-kn-kn-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-dr-dr-dr-drrrr!

Sigh.

It's useless complaining about it, so I just went to my front door and opened it. The moment I saw her face when the door slid inwards, I was about to smack her head for violently treating my door and doorbell the other day, but I retracted.

"O-oh, uh. . . hey Akko, long time no see." she coldly greeted with a lame wave. Totally not the usual Ala-chan you'd see day-to-day.

"Yo."

I walked out of my room, but Ala-chan decidedly pushed me inwards back to my room, "No no no, I want to hang out here a little while!" she said. I forgot that Ala-chan has a finicky and last-minute like nature—finicky than most girls are finicky. Instead of me getting ragdolled, I get pushed by Ala-chan.

As she settled on the table, I prepared a cup of water for the both of us even though last time, Ala-chan didn't even take a sip.

"Oooh, thankie Akkochii!" Her spirit sprung back up.

I placed a cup of water in front of her, while I did so likewise on the opposite side of the table, sitting afterwards.

I pointed to the plastic cellophane placed dead center on the table, "What's that?"

"Oh!" she rumbled down the contents of it, then revealed to be a white box with a yellow cover, like a box of cake, "I went to my friend's pastries earlier and bought some glazed donuts and munchkins!" Upon opening it afterwards, it contains four glazed donuts and munchkins of various flavors.

"And these munchkins, what flavor are these?"

"Hmm. . . They're assorted, but I believe they're Bavarian and Choco Butternut."

I randomly took one of the munchkins—the piece which looked like it got sprayed in flour with that soluble-like texture. I popped one in my mouth, and felt a cold and sweet filling rummaging through the insides of my mouth. I'm pretty sure I took the Bavarian-flavored munchkin as it doesn't taste like chocolate, assuming from the name of the other flavor, Choco Butternut.

"Mmmm. . . pretty good. . !" I exclaimed. Tastes don't lie, they say.

"Don't mind if I dig in~!" she immediately rose up from her feet and took one of the glazed donuts. I pop in one of more of these munchkins, this time—by process of elimination assuming—the choco butternut one. It didn't have any of that filling, but all of the taste's been concentrated on the munchkin itself.

After a few minutes, we infiltrated half of the contents of the box; left with two glazed donuts and fewer than several of the munchkins. I've grown a liking for these munchkins, hence my excess consumption of it compared to the donuts. Ala-chan did take some though.

"Thanks for the treat Ala, you didn't have to go that far though."

"Hm? Ah, no problemo!" She boasted a radiant smile, "We hadn't talked for a while, so treat it like an epic-comeback kind of treat!" then opened her palms around her head, like a Wow! expression.

"Come to think of it, I do miss going to uni just to slack at the cafeteria or the gazebos with some food."

She put her finger on her chin, "Oh yeah, I just realized that not only we'd have waffles all the time, but we didn't have lunch at the campus." After wandering her thoughts, she suddenly flinched like a cat splashed with water, "Hold on, we do keep on eating waffles at campus, and you keep on relying on me for food!"

Oh shoot, am I busted for enjoying that hidden advantage? I do plan on telling her the truth at some point at my confusion on why she'd always treat me to waffles every break-vacant time. It's spring break so how the heck do I say it to her?

"Well, you are the one who keeps on telling me to go buy waffles for the two of us."

"Eh?" she displayed a puzzled face.

I can't underestimate how girls could be so fussy and change the rules all the time on the spot.

"Anyway, should we go now? Let's go already!"

I nodded even though she answered her own question.

I placed the box of treats that Ala-chan bought for me in the refrigerator. Locking the door and going down, I had to make her wait outside the mochi store as I went in to tell Ala-chan where I'm going for today. After that, Ala-chan and I are on our way to the train station.

Unlike any of our walks we had together, the atmosphere this time between us felt cold and dry. No, that's not the weather—today's a scorching hot ball of flames. You know what I mean. Sure, she's somewhat bright and filled with mania earlier, but that felt like a sudden burst of energy.

". . ."

I readjusted my hands on both of my pockets.

From my head, twenty-five minutes passed and we arrived at the Seiru National Funeral House (that's a twist for your vocal cords). Ala-chan and I didn't really converse on the way there, but I figured both of us need a peace of mind for what we are about to visit.

On a flip note, is this even government-owned? Almost all of the buildings here don't look like they're named like a private company-owned one.

Flashed with white walls, marble floors, and white pillars. We stumbled across a glass door with a sign on top reading, "Temperance." To be frank, I glanced on my right to see the other doors preceding just like this one, and they were all named after a core value. Clever naming scheme, huh.

"Ready Akkochii?" We stood side-by-side in front of the glass door.

"Why does it sound like you're on a new adventure?"

"Just in case you didn't know or forgot about it, we have to bow in front of the coffin and clap twice and talk to her."

I nodded, and so we went inside. The wake of Miko Miura. The layout is similar to a chapel, except what's in front is Miko's resting with a handful of flowers and bouquets surrounding her. It's somewhat filled with people, but the room felt spiritually silent—it's not the usual ambience chatter that you'd hear in a typically filled room. On each row of seats there sat like three in a group, four, five, and it looked various, probably another close family, relatives, or cousins.

Like we're on a runway carpet (sorry I have no other way to describe it best), Ala-chan and I walked slowly towards the front. I heedily waited for her to start bowing, and the instant she did, I was a millisecond off, but tolerable enough not to raise suspicion and be like some moron who doesn't know anything. We bowed ever so slowly and gradually straightened ourselves, until we gently "clapped" our hands twice and placed it together. Ala-chan seemed to stick it onto her face, but I remained with my hands that way in front of my chest and closed my eyes.

In front of us was Miko resting, with a picture of her standing on top of the glass-protected coffin.

I may sound stupid, but I tried talking to her in mind just like what Ala-chan told me to.

Yo, Miko. . . . Akko here. Thanks for being a warm and approachable friend. You felt like an older sister to me, to be honest. . . .

. . . .

. . . .

That was all I could say to her.

I felt guilty.

You know that feeling where you have a lot to say in mind, but you only let out like a significant few—like an expectation-reality burger commercial? Yeah, that's how I felt.

I know we've known each other for more than a month, but it felt hollow to just have an extent of message to her like that.

I slightly turned my sight to Ala-chan, which still had her two hands seemingly clenched together and looked like she had a lot more to say to Miko.

Then she slowly looked to me, "Okay Akko, let's settle down for a while." She said with a throbbing and lowly voice. I didn't realize her eyes were already watery.

"Got it."

Out of all the rows of seats on our backs, we were seated at the middle row where nobody occupied it. We had nothing else to do but to look endlessly at Miko's coffin. I can't even think of anything to jump me off this sorrowful atmosphere. I guess we all need sorrow in our lives, I mean what's being happy without being sad, right? What a complete fool I am for thinking about escaping my own sadness.

"I'm curious Ala, what did we do in front of her?"

"Oh, it's just a Japanese practice I believe—at least coming from Ms. Miura, so I'd respect that level of culture."

Huh, Ala-chan seems objectively nice. She has a point, that's why I was wondering why it didn't feel like a wake that I'm used to.

We allured ourselves to the sorrowful and holy atmosphere that this room just hundred-one percent blooms at your face for about several minutes. Later on from the back, I saw a group of people—looking like a family of three people—entered and walked down the carpet until they did the same thing as Ala-chan and I did when we approached Miko.

Among the three were two tall people and one person who is awfully short. While they were doing the practice in front of Miko, the short person glanced towards this direction, and seemingly reacted from our presence. At first, I thought it was Tomo, but the short stature was the similarity I could only connect between the two. This person darted her direction between us and Miko, while her hands were put together in front. After a while, this person walked away—leaving those two people in front—presumably her parents—and walked in front of us.

She reached out her hand, beckoning at Ala-chan, "Psst. . . Ala, Ala!" she called in a wispy and lowly tone.

Ala-chan didn't react—her eyes were seriously affixed in front.

The girl finally walked dead in front of us, "Hellooo? Ala? Come back to Earth will you?"

No reply coming from her. The girl then leaned this way, "Hey uhm, Ala's boyfriend, can you call her or something?"

"W-wha?!" Ala-chan reacted at her word and finally looked at her, "Reona-chan, that's not my boyfriend!"

"Oh really, you were flinging back and forth between boys if I remember!" she sort of playfully sat beside me on the pew. Yeah I forgot to tell you that these rows of seats are called pews—the ones you find in a church. I guess not only is my memory short-term as heck, but it's sometimes deferred at picking up.

Both girls argued while I was seated in the middle of them. Until Ala-chan hinted her sight at me and exclaimed, "Wait—hold on, we're leaving behind Akkochii in elements!" she gestured a palm panning from me to her, "Akko, this is Reona-chan," and the vice-versa to Reona, "Reona-chan, this is Akko."

"Yo." I greeted her with a puny wave.

"Hellow-hallow!" Reona greeted with both palms and a contagiously hyperactive smile, "Reona here, a trusty cousin-friend of Ala-chan, a wholesome ambassador to Miko-chan!" she saluted.

Reona... Well, I haven't gotten her last name. I'd say she's slightly taller than Tomo but still shorter than me. She has chocolate brown eyes and hair tied in a fluffy sidetail with a blue scrunchie and a big cowlick (or ahoge) protruding and curving on top of her head. Her wear seems to resemble a typical school uniform—buttoned white top with cuffs and a blue pleated skirt streaked with white horizontal lines on the bottom part. Honestly, I have no idea if my standard of cuteness in girls is below-average, as I find her simplicity cute. Though, there is a certain someone who is leagues cuter.

"Say, say, say!" Reona raised her enthusiasm, "Do you both go somewhere else after visiting the wake of the dead?"

"Well, I did go somewhere before I went here, specifically a donut store and Akko's apartment!" Ala-chan replied.

"No, no, no, Ala-chan!" Reona sure likes to repeat her speech. "You go somewhere after visiting the wake or a funeral. It's what you call a pagpag, a superstitious belief I heard that you have to go somewhere else after visiting the wake of someone rather than directly going home, 'else the spirit will follow you and..." she gestured both of her hands to do some sort of cinematic opening curtain-like sequence on her face, "Get your family !"

"Eeeeek!" Ala-chan reacted sensitively which caused her to shudder really badly. I was the opposite—apathy at its finest.

Pagpag and me knowing what siomai is, huh the origin sounds familiar. I should've taken linguistics, darn it. I'll take note of Reona's handy indirect linguistics lesson.

Speaking of, I did mention that Reona and Tomo have height as their only similar characteristic.

Why did I think of that just now?

Tomo is nowhere to be seen.

⁂

From there, Ala-chan and Reona had such an endless conversation to the point that they've probably entirely forgotten that I was there between them—well actually the conversation felt like a girl-to-girl talk. So I pardon my intrusion, "I'm gonna go outside for a while," I said to both of them and then walked out of the wake room. Lame excuse, I know.

Leaning at the pillar in front of the glass door at the other side of the hallway, I crossed my arms and continued to look intently at Miko from afar. The ambience around the funeral parlor seemed quieter than usual, not what your ears are used to on urban grounds.

After a few moments, I was approached by a motherly figure innocently holding her purse in front.

"Oh, you must be. . . . Akko? Did I have you correct?"

"Uh, yes ma'am." I replied attentively. "Who are you?"

"Don't mind me," the woman flapped her right hand, "Oh manners, my, my. I am Miko's mother."

I faced her and bowed, "Nice to meet you again, Ms. Miura."

A lovely mother whose hair began to grow grey and wrinkles on her face. Man, growing up meant that your parents age as well.

She looked through the glass door to get a clear look at her daughter, "My, we originally thought that we should've held her wake at our home, but sweetheart thought that she needed fine rest after that trouble."

Speaking of which, I have begun to raise suspicion about the autopsy of her death. It's not common to hold something like this after some deadly murder spree. Maybe it's just me being too tad outdated about the world advancing to the point that autopsies are done with a quickie, who knows?

"Say dear, how long have you been friends with Miko?" She asked.

"It was just over a month. Ala was the reason I met her."

"Ah, I see. . . . those three girls, I bet you had the chance to meet Tomo dear. She would almost always bring us what she and her mom baked to our place."

"Yeah."

Oddly enough, that was all I could say when she mentioned Tomo. Not that I have anything against her.

Not long after, Ms. Miura and I sat on a marble bench not too far away from the wake room.

While I was unsure if what I'm going to ask is offending or traumatizing, I have been doing that lately to the point that I'm kind of used to it. After all, life is all about risks. Taking a deep breath,

"Apologies Ms. Miura, if I may sound rude, but how did you react to your daughter's death?" See? I can talk quite respectfully towards elders, what do you think I am?

. . .

Ms. Miura looked at the ceiling and intently thought about it for a while.

"Well, I was about to redact my answer, but I figured you would've experienced it long after, my my." She paused for a bit. "Since I was the one who entered first into her room that morning, it was prickly traumatizing. I collapsed, called my husband, and eventually the police. Blood and long pieces of cloth everywhere, I was shocked. I was left without words."

"Oh, but aren't you and Mr. Miura deeply concerned about it?"