April seventh.

Some few days after I rested up from that pointless lawful fiasco, I was awoken to the knocking door.

"C-coming!" I stuttered my speech as I literally just woke up, rose from my futon, and went straight for the door. Opening the door, It was the formidable, unstoppable, and menacing Yayoi Shiho.

She appeared in front of me as if she posed for a beach magazine shoot, with her right hand covering the right side of her face whilst looking on to me. "Yahoh!" Greeted with her signature as usual. She handed me out something from her right hand.

"What's this, Ms. Yayoi?" I took a hold of the small vertical envelope that she's been handing out to me.

"G'ugh, drop the honorific, I said!" She finally went out of her pose out of disgust, later stood erect in front of me, stylishly crossed her arms with a playful smirk—a mood swing in less than ten seconds, "Heh. We've won the lottery."

"Okay, hold on. Who? Like 'we' as in we—both of us, or 'we' as in you guys, excluding me?"

"The 'we' we."

"Okay, why the hell is this envelope paper thin? Have we won the run-down one-star lottery or something?"

"It's a cash check, basically a petty money kind of voucher, but put in very legally and professionally."

I tore open the vertical envelope from the top. It's so small that it's ten centimeters wider than the size of a cash bill. That's why I was baffled at first because it's absolute—you can't fit more than ten paper bills in this enclosed space.

Taking out the contents of it, it revealed to me a sturdy hard paper with a signature blue slip corner.

I sighed in frustration. Groaned.

"Uh. Is this one of your pesky lies?"

"No, no! This is your jackpot! Get it, because you've won her heart? Sayre's pretty much a grand lottery in your eyes, kachow!"

I scratched my head. You know Ms. Yayoi. . . one hell of a joker.

"Anyway, chop chop with your stuff and whateves, the flight's gonna be at around nine-thirty, so you should be at the airport at eight-thirty." She added.

"Huh. Oh look what do we have here."

While Yayoi was about to walk away down the staircase and disappear to god knows where, it's to anyone's surprise that a Curious Aka would walk out of her room with all the fuss going this early in the morning.

Looking here from the inside, the scene would absolutely knack for a cinematic aspect ratio and a warm, muted, and desert-y color profile. Yes, I'm talking one of those cowboy-like western scenery picturing out how these two are looking intently at each other. Yayoi would look like she's about to pull a revolver from her pockets, while Aka would seem to bust out her tangling rope.

The sunshine of a morning turned into an intense battlefield of a mind game. Yayoi Shiho—the woman who knows every corner of the law, versus Aka Honda—the woman of experience, logic, and common sense. While in sheer hindsight both of them could be similar in objective, it's like distinguishing between musical notes and an ensemble playing the actual music. While both statements do fall under the field of music, both are entirely different worlds.

And it turns out. . .

"Yahoh!" Yayoi gracefully held her palm up. "You must be Akko-tan's neighbor, aye?"

"Right. . . . Ahahaha. . . " Aka shyly scratched her back while breaking eye contact with her. "'Ya coul' say that I'm a caretaker of that damn of a boy."

They were just plain strangers, even if I had an eerie gut feeling that they would have something in common because of their somewhat similar manner of speaking. Like how Ala-chan described it a while back—an Old English kind of vibe. Man, the situation looked like they were acquaintances for a pretty long time. Maybe I overshot the overthinking. It's simple, they are strangers until now.

Later on, Aka invited both of us to her place once again. Much like Ala-chan, Yayoi was also impressed at the incredible sight of the Japanese interior design of her room despite the cozy space. We waited at the dining table for a little longer until Aka set the breakfast of the day with a big omelette, some red sauce, and veggies settled on the side—a huge dish just dead center on the table.

"Oi, that's what's cookin!" Yayoi snapped the wooden chopsticks that were in front of her and grabbed a piece of it. Taking a bite, Yayoi's reaction was nothing more than a sweet and happy kettle (figuratively, but a high-pitched voice I mean).

I stood up at the mysterious sight of this breakfast, keening my eyes on the red sauce which isn't just some scribble, but a message of some sorts. I looked at Aka and asked, "Aka, what's written here?"

"Awh kid, you didn't even ask about the thing I just made?" She sighed with a heavy face. "That's omurice. What's written there is Ohayo—Japanese for 'Good morning' if you're wondering."

Being that I took Japanese as one of my subjects of choice back in uni, my eyes can better comprehend the rather grumpy and stutter-y handwriting. It wasn't just any scribble, it was おはよう written across this chonk of an omelette. While that's quite a witness, I should point out that I'm guilty of selective clouded thoughts unless someone can either directly or indirectly point it out to me.

Even though I had my smartphone with me, I mooned my eyes all over the room to find a clock. It already is six-forty in the morning. That explains why I was quite a whine towards Yayoi earlier. Getting disturbed from a wholesomely good night sleep sucks to be honest.

Despite the lively atmosphere, I'm sad—partly or almost because both of them are on to their non-stop talking wonders. I get it. They haven't met each other yet, well I guess they are destined to meet each other because of my presence and relevance between the two then back to me.

This dining table has four chairs. There are only three out of four who occupied it. Three is an odd number. An odd number, both mathematically and linguistically-speaking, is odd. In any given rate of communication, it's a one-to-one ratio. In this case, Aka and Yayoi have an established conversation, while I—

I am dead silent, watching the two conversing like youthful women at some reunion. I'm the odd one here. I'm jealous. I'm envious that I can't engage in their somewhat interesting conversation. At the end of the day, mathematics may be the universe's only language it knows, so maybe it is odd trying to communicate with three equally at the same time. Because of their talkative nature, I ended up eating most of the omurice that Aka made, while both of them enjoyed some thirty-five percent of the share I guess.

Then I looked again quite intently at this vertical envelope that Yayoi handed to me with my plane ticket inside. I admired it as much as I loved scanning that cork envelope Sayre handed to me several times. That was concrete evidence light years more advanced than current technologies would allow.

Plane ticket. . . .

I immediately stood up. Both of them directed their attention at my fast reflex.

"Shoot, I still have to get my things ready for my flight." I mumbled.

"Ah—right, thank you for reminding me Akko." Said Yayoi with a flinch looking like she forgot something terribly gravely important. She then looked down to Aka and said, "Sorry Aka-sis, I still have some things to run for."

"Yeah, you can take your leave now, sis. Nice talking to ya—oh hey, mind if we exchange numbers?"

"Nah, I'll channel it through Akko if I'm free, maybe some coffee down the street and many more talks. Sheeeeesh!" Yayoi faced the door, stretching her arms far and wide up in the air with hands in her pockets. "Gotta take my leave now, adios amigos! By the way, thanks for that yum-yum breakfast Aka-sis."

"Hah, no probs, sis." Aka then raised a palm at her farewell. And so, Yayoi closed the door in front of her as she walked outside this room thereafter.

"Come on kid..." She slowly looked in this direction. "Are you leaving? Don't you have classes next week?"

"Yes and yes." I sat back down and sighed, "Well, for the time being—though I'm not sure when I will come back. I'll just hit you up with a text whenever." I said. "I'll be packing up my stuff and whatnot."

"As always, kid. Yeah—you better need to pack your stuff up now. I heard it's an early flight? The airport's quite far if you'd ask me."

"Shucks Aka, I'll miss your cozy apartment room, your mochi store, and all'a that. Well, I'll miss you."

"Mochi store?" She chuckled deeply. "Ah, I'm going to renovate my business model. Not only would I serve mochi, it can be a prototype eatery of various Japanese cuisines. So yeah kid, the menu's gonna be pretty huge than what I have right now."

I guess I was right when I thought that Aka might be trying a new business model. It's unusual for her to invite me to her place to try various foods that she'd cook around this time of the year. Taking that into account, does that mean that Yayoi and I are her first customers on her prototype business model? That's an entitlement I'd sure be proud of.

"Ah, what about the rent Aka? I'll be gone for who knows when."

"Hm. You can go and end your rental contract if it were me. Uncertainty's pretty much a bog in the chain. You can defer your rent but you would risk getting your room occupied by someone else, or if you really want to secure your room there, you can pay the essential 400 rent fee instead of the full 1,300 monthly payment. Your water and electricity would be cut for the meantime though."

"Meh. I'll take the rent fee. I'm not bringing everything though. To whom should I pay the fee in my absence though?"

"To me. I'll just hand you over my bank account for you to pay."

"Wait, what?" I was puzzled.

"Kid." She crossed her legs while looking coolly in this direction. "I own this apartment complex."

. . . .

Well, that was anticlimactic.

I usually leave my rental payment through my mailbox downstairs—where I received the cork envelope. There's a separate compartment there for cash if a renter wants to do it that way, so I didn't know who's the landlady of this apartment. I know I've been here since my freshman year in Ruruteru Private University, so it would be a whopping two years since I lived here. I kid you not, I knew both Aka and Ala-chan from the start. But god, how clueless am I, right? It just so happens that I knew more about the both of them two or three months ago.

Up until this point, I only thought of Aka as a regular renter who just happens to be my neighbor and looked like she was close friends with the "landlady" of this apartment given that she has her own space downstairs for her mochi store. I suppose you could call her a queen because she owns two rooms here as opposed to us renters, including me, who only have one.

That's why her mochi store aligns with her room from the first floor to the second floor?! Man, synonymous geometry doesn't lie!

I'm honored that I am a close and trusty friend of this apartment's landlord. But now there's a new question up my sleeve: does she have another house somewhere, or is this "building" her only home?

Anyway, realizing the ticking time for the second time, I hurriedly pardoned my excuse to Aka, as I somewhat rushed back to my room. I rummaged through my closet to find my bag—it's different from the one I usually carry at school. No, this is more like my traveling bag when I ever plan to go to a different place overnight or permanently move into another place for a while.

"Ah, found it."

It's something you might call a hiking bag, though when you compare it to its kind, it's only like three-fourths the height, so it would make sense to just call it a jumbo-sized school bag... Yeah, even this bag is having an identity crisis. It's good for its purpose because it's the best of both worlds. I took it out and plopped in my laptop, the iconic A4 cork envelope, and all of my clothing and necessities.

Well, I stopped midway fixing my stuff because I forgot to take a bath, woops.

That took about a good five minutes, and I just took clothes from the closet, put my old clothes in some Ziploc, and put them in the bag. I wouldn't want to stress Aka leaving with some debt in mind, laundry included.

As the closet is gradually getting devoid of my clothing and stuff. My body halted at this unholy and sickening sight.

"..."

A set of a black-and-white striped shirt, grey shorts, and a white bucket hat in a hanger and the box of my old phone just down there. I leaned down to the box first, dropped my bag by the closet and sat on the table with the box in front of me.

So many things have happened, so many things that made me moved to the point that I forgot that this smartphone I'm holding was given to me by Tomo.

A name that I can't bear to even say in mind. It's like a permanent scar that'll continue to rupture open in both from a vision and audible sense. It's worse than tagging someone your enemy or a hard-headed berserk rival—no, this person is on a whole nother level.

"I mean, we all do get scarred at some point right?" I just don't mean physical scars though.

I pondered about it for a while and took a deep sigh. I powered off my phone and opened its back to retrieve my SIM card. I popped back the battery and its plastic back, grabbed my old Model 300 cellphone, and put back the shimmering white smartphone back in its box. I did the same thing on installing my SIM card back on the Model 300 the moment prior. Afterwards, I closed the box and tried to seal it back.

Power on.

It played an upbeat chime on power up—oh when did I last hear that? I miss this cutie of a headset. It's small, really portable, and the battery—do I even have to mention it? Reading the battery indicator on the corner, it has three bars left. I forgot that it was powered off for almost a month yet it still held a decent charge, let that sink in for a moment.

And—oh god, the T9 keyboard, that keyboard where 'abc' is on the 1 key, 'def' on the 2 key, and so on. I was a typing wiz on my old cell phone but for now, I'll be slow as tar typing on my old phone since I was too accustomed to a touch QWERTY keyboard lately. Mentioning that, I was about to text, but I eventually just decided to slide my phone back in my pockets.

Snap! Dang, that satisfying sound when the flip phone closes.

Enough nostalgia. I decided to bring the smartphone and its box into my bag. For those flashy clothes with that white hat, I just left it hanging as the only set of clothes there in my closet.

I walked in front of the door, took a good look at my room one last time panning my eyes at every angle of it.

Sigh, "So long, partner."

Opened the door, went outside and inevitably, the last time I used my key to lock the door.

"Heh, looking at you like that brings me a memory about you moving in a few years ago."

I glanced to my left. Aka Honda wearing a smirk of a confident woman, leaning on her side on her door with arms crossed. I walked to her and dropped the room key on her palm, "I guess some things never change."

"Aye, people say you don't have to change because who you are is the best of you. But come to think of it, life's changing, so 'ya have no choice but to change right?"

"I have to. Why keep smiling when you've just gone through a traumatic romantic relationship? You can't stay looking frail and vulnerable on your next."

"Traumatic romantic. . . golly. Hah. Hahahahaha!" She laughed, the only time where I saw her burst into such emotion. "Akko-kid, you always rhyme with your nonsense, aye?"

"Whatever."

Aka suddenly pulled me by my collar, now a few centimeters away from her face and whispered, "Speaking of relationships kid, you one hell of a liar, you do have a girl!"

I pushed her back. "W-what? Oh, for pete's sake, don't tell me Ms. Yayoi told you some things?"

"Sayre, was it? Man, Yayoi-sis told her story like she's a madonna for the brains. How are things between you two though?"

"It's complicated, but I know—" lowered my voice on my second clause. "I know what to do now," is what I wanted to say, though that might be too cheesy to hear.

"But jeez, you calling each other Yayoi-sis, Aka-sis? You sure got close real fast." I said.

"Dunno kid." She shrugged. "Anywho, get me to know this Sayre girl of yours when you get back. Probs some souvenirs, and I mean souvenirs. 'Ya know where 'ya going, and 'ya know me."

"Sheesh, alright alright." I waved my hand back and forth whilst breaking eye contact.

Aka chuckled. "Okay kid, for real. Have a safe trip. Aka Honda's just here whenever."

"Mhm, 'till we meet again."

I took one last chance to glance at Aka's jinbei. It's in this pretty green hue. It has the characters for "inevitable" written all over it. We both then exchanged a pair of waves and there, that was the last time (for now) I'll be heading down this staircase and the last sight of the mochi store on my right that's currently being renovated.

If we take this by a process of elimination, I go straight from the staircase to go to uni and go to my right if I wanted to pass by the City Square. Leaving left as the only direction in the deck. So I went that way.

I did walk quite quickly this time, as I'm pretty behind on the clock.

"Wait a sec."

Something popped up in my mind, so I went ahead and made a detour to that retro arcade that I went to two months ago.

⁂

Shoot, I forgot that your ears pop when the airplane is about to cruise at a very high altitude. Some say you need to eat chewing gum at flight to compensate for that and some say you imagine doing that. I tried to do both back then but now, I just don't care.

Oh, and don't you love it when you get the window seat?

Long story short, I arrived quite later than eight-thirty at the airport back in Ruruteru. I still have to take the IRT to the airport stop. That took a good chunk of time going there, plus accounting for the detour I made before any of that. As you may have already guessed upon my arrival there, I went straight for the gates. If I ever still needed to check in, it would take me later to arrive at my destination by then. You could say everything was perfect timing, cautious at best.

That's right, Aka already gave me a boarding ticket, and that was outside of the airport with all my credentials.

That could only mean one thing.

"Heh."

After seven and a half hours, I finally stepped on foot like Neil Armstrong on steroids. I stretched my arms as I was in the baggage claim area. Thank god for carry-ins by the way.

"Ahh... long time no see, old friend."

New Chitose Airport, Sapporo. Okay wait, I lied—from the name of the airport itself, we're in the city of Chitose, not in Sapporo.

It was already quarter to five counting time from my head. I didn't pay attention at the ETA on the way here, so I thought I would arrive on or later than twelve noon. I have a bad feeling about going home this time around.

Anyways, I used the elevator to get down to the basement, coming across the railway transit—a speedy one. It's a good thirty minute ride, so it's certain that I'll arrive around dusk. I later dropped off at Shin-Sapporo station, where I can finally say that there's no place like home.