Life is a sequence of constant meeting and leaving people. With friends, even close friends you meet them, are friends for a while, maybe months, maybe years and eventually something happens in your life and you and that person are forced to go your separate ways. Sure you promise to write, and even call a few times but eventually you fall out of touch and it's too much work to go about finding that person again and you put it off and put it off until you forget about that person all together.
This is a fact of life, not one person can hold onto everyone that they meet and become close to, they have to give them up at some point, that's just how it goes. But what happens when this person that you forgot, suddenly appears in your life again.
Will it be just like it was before?
If Nigel Uno had cared to look at his answering machine, he would have noticed that it was blinking at him, signaling that there was a new message. This new message was from a public numbered payphone who's camera had been broken long ago and now served no purpose save for acting as fodder for the paranoid passerby whom wasn't from the area and didn't know that it was broken. But Nigel didn't care to look, in fact he wasn't even at home to look.
Nigel was never home, the few friends that he had often told him that he might as well have sold the apartment as he was there maybe once a year. His response to this was always the same, if he sold it, then he was out of a place to sleep for that one day a year.
The blinking bulb on the message machine cast its light over the room, giving its immediate surroundings an eerie reddish hue. She clicked delete as she walked past it and moved to sit on the couch, her long dark hair once past her hips now to the middle of her back and tied up in a messy formal up do. Her dress was evergreen, its high slit making for easy movement. Normally she would have worn this form of outfit only if she'd been ordered to get close to someone in order to kill them. Tonight she'd dressed up for a different purpose but as it seemed it was a wasted effort, he wasn't home.
Whether or not he was coming home tonight was an irrelevant fact because she couldn't be here too long otherwise he might be targeted and that was something she didn't want to see happen. So she scribbled on a piece of paper, leaving the number to the prepaid cell phone that she'd purchased earlier that week, telling him that she will call before midnight tomorrow and signing it with the name that few called her by but he would recognize.
Kuki.