It was a beautiful Sunday morning. What was Sumire Shouda, a sophomore in college at the prime of her youth, doing at school when the shops were calling?
"Miiiiiiiiikan!" Sumire called as she tore through her dorm's halls. "Mikan Sakura!"
As usual, her roommate was late. To an appointment with the one and only Sumire Shouda! She hissed.
"Careful, Shouda. You're baring your fangs."
Sumire whipped around to direct her wrath at the one who had spoken, the lovely triple majoring genius Hotaru Imai. Sumire narrowed her eyes. "Hotaru, you have to help. She's your best friend since childhood."
"She's your roommate."
"Yeah, because you abandoned us and got a single! I bet you can't get her to appear."
Hotaru remained unfazed by Sumire's barely veiled provocation. She was the queen of keeping her cool.
Sumire gave in. "Fine, I'll pay you."
Hotaru snorted. "As if you could afford me, you still owe me ¥70000."
"Don't be stingy, you're rich! I told you I'll pay you with free clothes!" Sumire had quite a following on all of her social media platforms, and brands often sent her box after box of clothes and jewelry for free in exchange for a promotion.
"I prefer my clothes." Hotaru followed the Steve Jobs philosophy when it came to fashion, much to her friends' despair.
"What do you want, then?!" Sumire was desparate. Soon it would be noon, and all the shops would be crowded with those dirty teenagers who had never even used a CD. "Hotaruuuuuuuuuu, help me. I'm desperate."
The windows were open, and Sumire took this opportunity to lean dramatically outside. "Oh..."
Hotaru shook her head at her friend. It really was a beautiful day outside. She heard fleeting bits of conversation, and birds chirping, and a boy yell out... That voice was surprisingly familiar. Who did it belong to? Hotaru traced the sound into her brain. Right. It belonged to that sandy haired idiot in her business psychology class.
Though he had some pretty important insights, he was such a sloppy student that Hotaru had dismissed him without bothering to know his name. He was always smiling. Hotaru honestly found it annoying and made sure that he was never in her field of sight. Nobody could possibly be that happy all the time, including Mikan.
Suddenly Hotaru turned to Sumire. "If I get Mikan ready to go in 5 minutes, you owe me a favor."
"Anything!" Sumire stood alert.
"You promised." With a gleam in her eye, Hotaru pressed a few buttons on her phone. The result was an urgent beeping coming from Sumire's dorm room that she could make out from a few hundred feet away the door. Hotaru counted. 3, 2, 1...
"HOTARU!" Mikan stumbled out shouting. "HOTARU, WHAT'S THIS BUSINESS... uh oh," she gulped, making eye contact with Sumire. "Oh shit. I'm late... listen, Sumire—"
"MIKAN SAKURA! I WILL TEAR YOU INTO PIECES..."
"SUMIRE, OW! STOP THAT— LISTEN TO MY—"
"I WILL MAKE YOU REGRET THE DAY YOU WERE BORN..."
Hotaru watched her friends grapple and smiled. It was a beautiful day. There was peace in the world at present.
What the future had to hold? Maybe a specific money making opportunity now that she was due a favor...