Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I hear my ringtone.
The sound causes the knife in my hand to cease its movements against the cutting board, and I set it down. From the kitchen, my stare draws to the coffee table in the living room. A bright light emits from my phone sitting on top. Before I attend to it, I dry my hands lazily on the kitchen cloth, wondering all the while who might be calling.
As I hover over the coffee table and adjust my head to read the Caller ID, my eyes widen. Hastily, I take the phone and answer the one waiting for me.
"Matsu— Emiko?" I confirm with an incredulous tone of voice.
"(Y/N)! Hi!" Her voice, crystal clear, sounds on the other line.
"Hi... why are you calling—" I say with furrowed eyebrows, just before my voice fizzles out in realization.
It has been two days since the last time I saw her at the café. After she left, I didn't make much progress on the application; instead, my mind ran rampant with thoughts of her and Koutarou. The bewilderment I held at her request and my consequent agreement, partnered with the inability to rationalize my new role in their relationship, strayed my focus. In the end, I knew attempting to look over the application at that moment would be fruitless.
Instead, I went home early that afternoon. For a short while, I wondered how best to approach Koutarou about the situation based on Emiko's feelings. Some part of me knew that sending a text, though easy and as distant as I could be from the problem at hand, wouldn't be right. Somehow, I felt that I owed it to her to see him in person and figure out his complete feelings from there.
But that was all that I had managed to think about. I dreaded setting up a time to do so since I hadn't seen Koutarou since our dinner. As if standing face-to-face with him didn't feel touchy enough, I would need to bring up an even touchier subject. Yet, it seems like Emiko has unknowingly caught onto my hesitation.
"I was wondering if you had a chance to talk to Koutarou yet," Emiko asks.
"N-no, not yet," I stammer, pressing at my temples with my thumb and index fingers. "You know, why don't I give him a visit tonight and... talk to him about it."
