1.2 | The Prince of Thieves

Chapter 7

This chapter is dedicated to 75sandwiches

Her room mate had teased her endlessly the night before for returning with a man's jacket. Hana had only realised belatedly that she had not returned it to him. It was only when she had ducked into the bathroom with the door locked behind her did she escape her unceasing questions. Tomorrow morning, most of the orchestra would fly back to Japan, while a few had chosen to remain in New York. As she sat on the edge of her bed, listening to her friend's chatter while she packed, her gaze kept returning to the wine red jacket that hung in the corner of the cupboard. Her cello and her own packed luggage lay by her bed, with a few toiletries to be put in tomorrow.

What do I say to him when I see him?, she mulled as her friend complained about some orchestra mate or other. Hana nodded and supplied the required, consolatory comments as and when. No, more importantly, where do I go tomorrow? If I go find Kai, he'll tell me 'I told you so'. If I go find Osuke...no, I don't want to disturb him and Haruki. They rarely get time together. I counted on the apartment...but I can still stay there if I clean it up. Half of it belongs to me, after all.

With her plan of action nicely organised, she reached for her phone with the intention to text him. Then she stopped. He won't see it, she thought grudgingly. Even if he sees it, he won't reply.

Hana remembered the replies that came slowly at first, short and cursory, before they graduated into unanswered messages. After a while, she had given up as well, pushing him to the back of her mind, conjuring him in her imagination only when she could no longer bear her loneliness. No one would have known that yesterday was the first time they had spoken to each other in about two years.

Forget it. I'll tell him tomorrow. He won't be able to say anything anyway.

Just like that night, he was standing on the curb by a black Lexus, though this time casually looking about him with arms around himself. When he spotted her, trailing behind a group of orchestra mates headed for the airport, he went over immediately and gently picked her cello from her grasp. A few curious heads turned to them. Ah, what bad timing. Some sort of warmth from being mortified and some other feeling she couldn't identify filled her from head to toe.

'Hana-chan!' Her room mate smacked her shoulder with a grin. 'Is this the one who lent his jacket to you?' she asked in Japanese.

'Yumi!' she exclaimed in a warning tone. 'I'll see you in Japan.'

'He's handsome!' she called out as she turned away.

'Yumi!' She narrowed her eyes at her friend and furiously waved an arm at her to shoo her off.

She let out an annoyed huff as the rest of the orchestra filled by, waiting to board their chartered coach. His brows raised in amusement, he took her luggage as well, then turned and headed for the car.

'Not seeing them off?' he asked. She hovered by his side, not knowing how and not being able to help as he easily lifted her belongings into the boot. Her luggage and her cello were settled, without her lifting a hand, she shrugged her shoulders and stepped back.

'It's fine. I'll see them again anyway.'

'Yeah?'

What's that suppose to mean?, she thought with some annoyance at the smug smile on his face. You are the one who's in trouble, you little – urgh.

'They don't know I'm married,' she continued with a hint of savagery in her tone. She stepped over to the passenger side, all the while ignoring his eyes.