Kaku and I in Baguio

CHAPTER 2: HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH

I bury my face in my palms, pressing my urge to cry from disappointment.

Oh! I feel so powerful, I'm going to punch the next kid I see. My legs are too powered up, I think I could knock down a grown-up man. I can feel the cells of anger infiltrating my system, breaking every patience and self-control I have left.

My head is too hot, it'll burst into flames, burning anything and everyone in this carnival down to the ground with no qualms.

This is why I have anxiety, every time I go happy-go-lucky, disaster comes next.

My childhood best friends, gentle ladies, and men: Aoi is abroad, she became an exchange student, and I won't be able to see her until she graduates from college; Kyoshira got a girlfriend and she said she won't hang out to me this time because the gf might get angry-as if I had romantic interest from anyone. When did she start dating? From the last thing I remember, she's bad at love in general-we even almost set her crush's house on fire when we tried to serenade her.

Now, what am I supposed to do when they aren't here? I made a whole bucket list put together just for us!

I rest my chin in my left palm while leaning against the counter, watching the kiddies play—it'll be nice to be a child again, the only thing you'll be concerned about is if your cat or dog has eaten and what kind of socks you should wear to school.

I look at the clock, fighting the urge to abandon the billiard stall and scramble back home.
I'm the type of gal who would rather be on my phone, binge eating, and reading novels than socializing with whom I'm not close, but I don't have a choice; I'm just sixteen, I have to conform, and I have to work for my sister's husband.

I grab a dorayaki, stuffing my mouth as much as I can, and putting all my pent-up rage into my teeth to chomp it.

A soothing voice seeps into my ears, "You are cuter upclose."

Huh? I tilt my head only to see a boy before me. He's looking at me, smiling from ear to ear-is he mocking the way I eat?

Don't play with me, I'll certainly cry. My sensitive crybaby self could never take being made fun of.

I cover my face with my palms and swallow everything in my mouth before glaring at the boy.

"Now you've noticed me; I've been waiting here for 15 minutes, watching you go through stages of rage; you shouldn't put a lot of dorayaki in your mouth at once, or you'll choke, I know someone who always does."

Cute? did he just call me, cute?

I shake my head in a futile attempt to whisk away the growing red tinting on my cheeks.

"Have you been waiting here for fifteen minutes?" I furrow my brows. "I haven't seen anyone-"

"Why are you blushing, and are you trying to gaslit, Kaku?"

I lean back to see their faces. My sheer anger failed me to cater to the customer.

The boy before me is wearing black jeans and a black fitted shirt outlining his chest and biceps, he's got a scar that runs from the top of his head to his face, slightly touching his subtle gun metal left eye to the tragus of his ears-I avert my gaze, it's not my business to marvel at, he might get offended.

The boy behind him has a-

"If you think he's a model, he's not." The boy with a scar chuckles and rests both of his palms on the counter, running over my figurehead of thoughts. "We want to play billiards," he says with the most sincere smile I've ever seen from a stranger, his eyes squinting from the stretch of his smile. "We want to use the one outside the stall," he says, pointing to the billiard table reserved for display.