Love is – an uncharted territory for her, something completely foreign and out of ordinary, considering how squeaky she got that one time she went for a movie with Kotori and ended up watching a 90-minutes movie filled with indecent stuffs (holding hands, exchanged longing looks, indirect kisses), and the experience itself left her breathless and thoroughly scarred.

There was also that one time where she walked in on Nozomi… doing… the intimate— saliva-trading ritual with Eri. She went home pale and steps unfocused, bumping into three lampposts and five different grandmas on the way.

While writing a love letter is something completely different than the aforementioned traumatic experiences, it's still destructively embarrassing for her. An hour has passed and the only thing she's written down on the (still-smooth) sheet of paper is a "salutations," that takes exactly ten minutes to pen.

Maybe she could've written more. Maybe she could've actually focus and forget her crippling fear of anything remotely romantic when all her attention span is poured onto the sleek, snow white sheet of the damned paper. Maybe she could've been onto something, anything other than staring dumbly at the shelf across, the tip of the gel pen hovering three centimeters above the paper.

Unfortunately,

"And now, your New York is mine," Niko cackles, all Disney villain and just plain evil, and twirls an imaginary mustache, "not my fault I'm dang good at this stuff."

"Ericchi, my condolences for your New York, but do roll the dices, please?" Eri rolls. And promptly regrets her decision of doing so. Little Eri quietly walks into The Jail.

Niko bangs her face onto the table to muffle her laughter, but Eri isn't exactly gleeful on the subject of her 3rd trip to the slammer. Her grip on the carton milk tightens. "Quiet, Niko. I'm angry." She states, then downs her milk angrily.

"Sheesh, guys, it's just a game." Maki shrugs, nibbling on the straw of her chocolate-flavored milk, rolls the dices, and quickly does a spit-take. Little Maki depressingly steps into Nozomi's Rome with its landmark standing in all its glory. "Oh, screw it!"

"Now, pay up – "

"This is the fifth time I have stepped into your city," Maki explodes, stands up abruptly, knocking the table from below in the process, the force enough to knock some of the buildings off and Eri's plastic avatar of her. Little Eri performs a Jail Break.

"My, my, someone's rather bitter here,"

Maki throws an accusing finger at Nozomi. "This game isn't all about skills – it's also about luck, but you're being a little bit too lucky here, and that is what I find strange – I have stepped in five different cities, sending me penniless, but it's always your cities, and that is strange because you and I aren't the only players here!"

But Nozomi is terrifyingly good at lying, so she smiles, and, "Are you accusing me of cheating?"

"No. Not exactly. But I'd like to point out the strange coincidences – "

"Sheesh, guys, it's just a game!" Niko quotes. She does a secret hi-five with Nozomi under the table. Maki combusts into a million shades of red.

Umi finally snaps. "Will all of you be quiet already?!"

Niko looks taken aback. "Oh, hey, Umi, didn't see ya there – "

"I've been sitting here for an hour. Writing. Something," Umi rants, hands gesturing violently as if she's trying to pull out the words from the air. "something important. So please quiet down for a second and let me have some peaceful seconds I need."

Eri quirks an eyebrow. "Who are you writing for?"

Niko cringes in disgust. "Who writes love letters nowadays."

"It's not a love letter!" Umi protests, bangs her hand on the table, sending force strong enough to blow her paper to the other end of the table. Nozomi picks up the paper up and Umi suddenly wishes its physically possible for her to turn herself into a pile of dusts for the next decades.

"Salutations," Nozomi reads out loud, "to Kousaka Honoka, whom I have loved for seven years now."

"Honoka," Maki absent-mindedly brings a hand to her mouth.

"Whom I have loved for seven years now." Eri puts up a smile, teasing and scandalous.

"Salutations?!" Niko points out a little bit too loudly, "Seriously, for being our lyricist, you're really suck at writing love letters."

Umi's at loss for words and settles for a constant silence, her mind deciding between full-on rage or an expression of hurt. She goes with the former.

"Hey, don't get angry at me, yeah? Now start with replacing the salutations part with, I dunno, 'howdy Honoka' or 'wanna get steamy' or whatever that suits your tastes. Stop glaring at me already. This is my valiant effort at saving you, teenagers, from future heartbreaks."

"I can't get my feelings across," Umi sighs, folds her arms neatly above the table and looking solemn, "I'm afraid she'll misunderstand the purpose of my letter, as she's rather… dense, oblivious, slow-witted, dumb, insensitive—"

"Whoa, whoa." Niko cuts in to save Honoka from further humiliation. "Alright. We got your point. How about we help? I mean, I'm no love expert, but at least I'm better at this kinda stuff than you."

And that is when Eri decides where she should step in. She coughs, rolls the dices, and Little Eri takes a stroll to the chance card tile. "Ahem. I'm of opinion that we mustn't interfere with Umi and her love letter, as a love letter is a representative of one's feelings. There is a similarity between love letters and the game of Monopoly."

"Umm." Umi manages to splutter out. "And that is?"

Eri draws a card from the chance cards stack, glares at the card for a second, and continues on. "When you're given a chance, than you must take it. Seize the momentum. Tell her everything." Eri says coolly. Little Eri walks back into the slammer with a visible, 100% plastic frown.

"I see." Umi nods, eyes blazing with newfound determination, and quickly grabs the now-crumpled paper away from Nozomi. She can feel her own blood boiling intensely. She can feel her gayness flowing inside her blood vessels. She's 100% gay and ready.

"Oh. And don't forget to take out the salutations bit." Niko chirps in.

"I still am of opinion that there's something strange behind Nozomi's insanely good luck," Maki informs, and everyone turns a deaf ear on her.

Umi takes a deep breath, enters the Zen mode, leans closer to her paper, and finally, finally, the words are out, and she writes –

The door flings out open. "Heya, everyone, sorry I'm late! Today's bread tastes as good as usual!"

"Asdfgkghj," Umi gurgles, rips the paper in two, and silently cries gay tears.

Notes: [1] LINE Let's Get Rich is unhealthy and nobody should play it ever.