Fate. A predetermined supernatural power. The will of the universe. Fate is order. It writes, and rewrites, gives and takes. It spins vibrant red strings that flow into the world and connect people who are destined to meet, to love, to share a story...
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A/N :
Realised kind of late that I've been spelling Sayori's name wrong this entire time, so it will be Sayuri from now on :P
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I sit with my legs close together at my table as I pretend, for the millionth time, to be studying the abstract art donning the walls of Beige — a fancy cafe square in the middle of our city's most popular shopping district. Despite being located in such a crowded area, the interior of the shop is relatively empty, with just one other couple occupying a table by the massive glass windows, outside of which dozens of people carrying store-bought bags consistently mill about.
I let my eyes flit away from the expensive-looking paintings, cursing internally as they lock on the Barista's again. She smiles at me from behind the counter, and I return a flimsy smile of my own before hiding my face behind the menu. The repetitive eye contact is embarrassing. I should have waited outside. If I was going to sit here for a half hour without ordering anything, it would have been nice if I had had the sense to pick a table that wasn't so blatantly in the Barista's line of sight.
I sigh, glancing at the time, and before I can think twice about it, I pull up my phone and fire off a text to Sayuri. I'm here. Where are you?
It's been four days since our study holidays began, and four days since I've last seen Akito and Ren. It's funny, but this might be the longest that I've ever been physically apart from them since we got to know each other.
All through middle school, I'd look forward to the holidays like they were oxygen, running straight home after class on the last day to inhale the familiar scent of lemonade and old furniture, thrilled by the knowledge that I wouldn't have to leave for at least another week.
It's different now.
I can't remember how I used to pass the time anymore. When I'm not putting my textbook aside to stare at my phone — waiting for texts that never come, I'm lying on my back, listless as I wait for my life to resume, wondering when Akito will finally come back to us, because I know that he will, and because that's what these boys have become to me now — my life. It's corny, but it's undoubtedly the truth. I can't picture an everyday without them anymore. Even now, I just...I just want to go back.
To school, to the lunch breaks and the train rides and the pain-in-the-ass committee shifts. To cutting glances at each other when we're annoyed with the teacher and swiping at Ren's lunches and playing games on the grass, because that, all of it, is what home is to me now.
I laugh softly. How did I let myself get like this? How can I go on after they leave me when it feels like that's when I'll completely stop breathing?
It's been one week since Irina stopped talking to me.
