Yakusoku (Avara Stadium Book 1)

The Promise

Himawari stared at her like she was a space alien. She'd stared at herself in the mirror that same way, so she couldn't blame him.

"What in the world happened to you?" He looked past her, at her sparkling apartment, never mind the fact that she was properly groomed for the first time probably since Himawari had seen her.

"I poured your vodka in the sink."

"Wow, seriously?" He laughed. "That's no way to receive a gift."

She stepped aside to let him in. "What kind of idiot asshole gives a bottle of vodka as a gift to an alcoholic?"

"Me," he said, kicking his shoes off and stretching as he walked in. "Man, though, like the change of pace here. Guess it got to you, what I said."

"Go fuck yourself and die. I didn't give a damn what you said."

"Wow, harsh!" He laughed and dropped into the sofa. He knocked a pillow onto the floor, and she picked it up and threw it into his face.

"I just cleaned this place up! Don't go fucking it up!"

He kicked his feet up onto the coffee table and she wanted to pick him up by them and swing him into the wall. "Did you submit your withdrawal yet?"

She wrenched a chair away from the dining room table and sat down in it, folding her arms and fuming. "Had to argue with my advisor for a solid hour but yes. Idiot kept saying, 'oh, but you shouldn't.' Old men get so used to people just agreeing with them 'cause they're old, they don't know how to form a proper argument."

"It's nice when you're being harsh to people who aren't me."

"Yeah, go choke on a nail. Besides, I missed an exam anyway, so the withdrawal will probably look better than the grade I would have gotten."

He went on as if she hadn't dropped her confession to the stupidest thing she'd done all year. "There's a local tournament I was thinking we can start in. Sharpen up on some fresh meat. I'm sure a bunch of startup nobodies will be easy work for your talents."

She raised an eyebrow. "Aren't we startup nobodies?"

"Are you?"

She went silent. How much did he know? She'd never told a soul about Natsumi or her accident, or the girl's lifeless eyes. She'd been with the police for hours, hours, hours as they tried to investigate, but like the underfunded rural police they were, they couldn't put two and two together, and ended up ruling it a suicide.

A suicide. By getting hit by a car on the sidewalk. Because that was likely.

But most people knew. Most people knew Natsumi killed a girl while driving drunk. And then her career as a roboticist had ended, despite all the fame she'd accumulated as a superstar.

Natsumi had taught her everything. Natsumi had taught her how to design a robot, how to build it, control it, play it around the opponents, how to control the crowd, how to control the press, how to control her own image. Natsumi had taught her how to embrace her own inner light. And Natsumi had taught her it was never fucking worth it. Natsumi had taught her not to fucking drink either.

Funny how much she'd started drinking after the accident, then.

"You can look up all the records you like. You won't find my name anywhere."

Himawari grinned. "That's such a specific denial. I notice you're not ruling out working with anyone else. If we work together, it's not like your name will be in any records there either."

"Oh, so it's not my project. I thought you were just an investor."

He snorted. "You think I don't know about robotics too? Don't mess with me, Aki. I think you know better than that."