Every spring, exactly two weeks before school on a Saturday, Sumiko Hara took her daughter shopping for the new school year. It was a tradition they had since the first day of preschool, and she never deviated. Sumiko thrived on strict schedules, and shopping never lasted more than two hours, mostly in part to her night shifts on the weekends.

For as long as Ayame could remember, they always shopped in a specific order: uniforms, bag, then supplies. Sumiko's reasoning was that all the stores were located down the street in that order. Even as new, trendy stores began appearing in different parts of town, Sumiko never deviated from that order.

Two years ago, when Ayame turned fourteen, she asked her mother if she could do the shopping on her own during breakfast on that Saturday morning. She unintentionally gripped the stainless steel fork a little harder causing the tips of her fingers to display an ever so slight gradient of red to white. Her eyes looked up from the meal in front of her to find her mother not looking at her at all. Ayame's chest tightened, guilt slowly building up.

Using her black lacquer chopsticks, Sumiko brought a bite of rice to her mouth, seemingly unphased by her daughter's request. Her soft eyes looked up to her daughter's to notice little red veins surfacing. Ayame was biting her lower lip just a bit as she searched for an answer from her mother. Sumiko smiled.

"I knew you would ask one day," she said.

Ayame released her lip. "You did?"

Her mother nodded as she laid her chopsticks on the small redwood rest. She folded her hands over the cloth napkin on her lap, not once shifting her attention away from her brunette daughter.

"And you're not mad?" the girl questioned again.

Her mother shook her head.

The truth was, Sumiko was silently grieving. Grieving the thought of the end of a tradition. Grieving the thought of her daughter growing the thought of her bond with her daughter slowly withering.

The third one scared her the most.

She took a small breath in through her nose, and released it through her nose as well. "You're growing up, my dear," she explained. "It's a beautiful sight."

It wasn't a lie, yet the truth still tugged at the edges of her heart. Her daughter was growing up, and while Sumiko marveled in the journey, she wanted time to stop. Ayame was changing physically, mentally, and emotionally, as they both knew would happen, but only the raven-haired woman was more keen to the subtleties.

Nonetheless, it was happening too fast.

Ayame's face blushed. "Mom," she bashfully exaggerated, "Stop."

And yet, parts of her daughter remained.

Sumiko took the last few bites of her food and folded the napkin on her lap, placing it on the dining table neatly in an open space below her white ceramic mug. Ayame finished the same time and followed the same suit, but instead placed her napkin below her sweating glass of water on the lauhala coaster. The aroma brought subtle smiles to their faces.

The mother and daughter cleared the table in the same order as always: plates, bowels, cups, utensils, then napkins. Sumiko felt her thin lips turn up into a smile.

Ayame got dressed as Sumiko tidied the kitchen. Within half an hour, Ayame came down the stairs dressed in a light blue midi skirt, a fitted white t-shirt, and light brown booties with a one-inch heel. She left her mid-back length brown hair down, and wore only mascara and a light pink lip tint. When her mother smiled at her, she knew her modest fashion choices paid off.

Sumiko removed the yellow rubber gloves from her hands and walked over to her wallet and pulled out 30,000 yen, handing it respectfully to her daughter, who took it in a similar manner, but with a bow and a 'thank you.'

"Will you be going with Ryuji?" Sumiko asked as she watched Ayame put the money into her wallet.

Ayame shook her head and replaced the wallet back into her purse, zipping it closed. "I'll be going with my new friend, Honoka."

"Ah," Sumiko exclaimed quietly. "The girl from Mr. Clown's shop last week?"

"Yeah, that's her," Ayame smiled at her mother.

Sumiko nodded her head with an exaggerated blink. "Be safe, dear, and be mindful of your budget."

Ayame laughed. "Don't worry, Mother, I've shopped with you enough to know how to buy my school items."

At least, that was the goal Ayame set for herself. She was also not prepared for Honoka's materialistic tendencies and larger budget. The hands of capitalism gripped poor Ayame Ishida hard as temptation seemed to reach for every last coin in her wallet. And, by the time she realized the damage done, her railcard was rejected again for the umpteenth time resulting in her walking the equivalent of two stations home, shamefully looking at the receipts in her hand.

It was then that her terrible spending habit formed.

Two years later, nothing has changed, and no matter how many times she runs out of money, she always does it again… especially if the reason for her running out of money was to buy a cell phone and a crystal heart phone charm.

"Anzu, I have a problem," Ayame started, gloom spreading over her delicate features as she trudged toward the train station. She had the receipt for the phone and charm in her hand.

86,300 yen.

Her heart sank even deeper into her abdomen, and she was sure that it would eventually fall out of her body. Is that even possible?

On top of that, the monthly bill was almost 5000 yen.

Anzu laughed. "Or just very expensive taste."

Ayame sighed as she shoved the receipt into her light pink crossbody faux-leather purse. She pulled out the similarly colored phone. She flipped the screen open to be greeted by the time displayed prominently in black and white.

86,300 yen.

She closed the phone and returned it to her bag. Maybe she would feel differently about the expensive device later. But, if she knew herself, she probably wouldn't for a while. It was something she accepted about herself, and it was also something she wondered why she wouldn't change about herself.

Alas, old habits certainly died hard.

"A cell phone will change your life," Anzu continued. "It makes getting a hold of people so much easier. I mean, I'm the only one in our group with one, but I can call my mom when my plans change."

Any progress Ayame's heart made to climb back up to its proper location in the chest was wasted time, because her heart sank even deeper into her body. She was more than sure it was in her navel. Maybe it went up to her head, because she felt the beats up there too. Perhaps it broke in two and migrated in opposite directions?

She slowly felt anger creep from the portion of her heart that went south like water boiling at the thought of a mother. Of her mother. Of Sumiko Hara. She looked away from Anzu as they continued to walk in the direction of the train station.

Unbeknownst to Ayame, Anzu was more perceptive than that.

Anzu inhaled, the question slowly creeping onto her tongue readying to be asked, but her logic closed the exit. It was as if the air surrounding Ayame grew heavy, like a thick fog shielding her fragile state. A defense mechanism, if Anzu ever saw one. How badly she wanted to ask what the reason was for the sudden wall. How badly she wanted to hang out with the girl from fifteen minutes ago.

Anzu abstained.

Ayame remained quiet the rest of the way to the uniform shop, her head heavy with a menagerie of feelings intertwining and knotting, overpowering and underwhelming. The mess of colors clouded the film of memories playing deep in the recess of her mind. All she heard was mumbles and all she saw were shadows in a grayscale gradient. Another defense mechanism.

The silence lingered for another minute, then another minute, until Anzu gripped the thick handles of her handbag a little tighter. Discomfort grew within her, and Anzu didn't do well remaining quiet. Something inside her screamed that Ayame needed her light. It reasoned that she was silently crying for help.

Anzu acknowledged.

"Hey, you can talk to me, you know," Anzu put out hesitantly. "We're friends now."

Friends. Ayame smiled at the thought that in a matter of a few days, she already made friends. In a matter of two hours, one of those friends acknowledged her as a friend as well. They were shopping together, laughing together, and soon they were about to have lunch together. She thought back to times she spent with her friends back home.

With Honoka and Eri.

With Ryuji.

And now, with Anzu.

Ayame smiled at her friend, the joy warming her heart and reeling it back to its natural location. "Thank you."

Anzu laughed. "Are you really thanking me?"

"When you ask that, it really does sound ridiculous, doesn't it?" Ayame replied, genuinely joining in Anzu's laughter.

When her laughter subsided, she let out a mental sigh. She had succeeded in breaking Ayame's wall, at least for now… at least that's what she wanted to believe. Regardless of the appearance, Anzu was relieved to once again have positive conversations with the long-haired brunette. It left her wondering, though, what had caused the sudden change in mood? A thought for another time.

"Hey, let's get a bite to eat before we head to the uniform shop," Ayame suggested. "Know any good restaurants?"

Anzu smirked, playfully. "Girl, I know all the good places to eat."

Appetites satiated and 31,400 yen more spent on uniforms and matching accessories, the pair walked to the train station with large white paper bags firmly gasped in either hand. Uniforms to last the week for two seasons, especially the wool pieces, weighed heavy in their hands that left red marks made visible when they shifted the bags.

"You doing okay, Ayame?" Anzu inquired, keeping in mind her friend's post-spending guilt. This time, however, Ayame looked fine. In fact, she looked better than fine, which only confused Anzu.

Ayame flashed a smile. "It's a bit heavy, but I'm fine."

"I know!" Anzu exclaimed in agreement with an exaggerated sigh. "I feel bad that my mom carried most of the school purchases now."

A knot formed in Ayame's throat. Mom.

"I'm sure she just didn't want you to have to carry it," Ayame responded, almost automatically. Almost instinctively. It was, in fact, the reason her mother carried most of their purchases. It was familiar and an easy answer.

Anzu chuckled. "She is a bit endearing."

"Most mothers are," came another automatic response, faster than Ayame could think about it… and it scared her. She was losing her control.

Anzu stopped walking, steps away from the gate, the response catching her off guard. Could that have been the reason Ayame was so affected earlier? She bit her lower lip slightly in an attempt to contain her guilt that stemmed from her perceived insensitivity to Ayame's situation.

"I'm so sorry," Anzu apologized, putting her bags on the ground. She put her hands together as if in prayer, pleading. "I keep talking about my mom without considering what happened to your's."

Ayame felt a similar wave of guilt rush over her. Guilt because she worried her friend for the second time today. Guilt because she had to lie to more people. Guilt because she hated her mother for making her do that. The guilt slowly turned into anger, festering like an infected wound.

She took a deep breath. Just like Mother used to.

"No, please, it's okay," Ayame started. She thought briefly of what she had already told Jonouchi, Honda, and Bakura. She had to keep her stories straight. At that moment, she was glad she was vague. "She's just not around, but it's fine, really!"

Anzu put her hands down, and sighed, still feeling absolutely horrible.

Ayame pushed her false state of mind in an attempt to both relieve Anzu and herself. The faster she was able to get herself out of this situation, the better for her. It was a good day, and she preferred that it end that way. She put down her bags and reached for Anzu's hands, grasping them firmly, and frankly shocking both of them at the sudden physical contact.

"It's really okay, Anzu, really," Ayame repeated, for her friend, but most for herself.

Anzu smiled and gripped her hands in confirmation. "I believe you," she said looking straight into Ayame's blue eyes.

Ayame returned the smile. Thank God.

They both picked their bags back up and passed through the gates without trouble. Ayame chuckled at the green light that notified her that she had money on her card. Ryuji ensured that she had more than enough money on her card before he left, but left the amount undisclosed. Two days and now five train rides later, she had yet to check the amount. She should probably check that. Maybe tomorrow.

And with that thought, she knew Ryuji would have scolded her.

As they walked into the station, the intercom announcing the arrivals and departures of trains became more audible; a sign that their girl's day adventure was coming to an end.

At the junction where the two would go their separate ways, Anzu turned to her friend. "I know I sound like a broken record, but if you ever need an ear, I'm a phone call away."

Ayame nodded and motioned her hip to tilt her purse slightly, acknowledging the mobile phone that is contained inside. "I will."

She knew that she probably wouldn't, but it would have been rude to reject the offer. After all, her mother taught her better than that. The knot reformed in her throat, and the rays of anger quickly started sparking again… and again with the loss of control. It scared her, and it was something she immediately felt that she needed to talk with Ryuji about.

"Oh," Anzu quickly recalled, snapping Ayame from her thoughts. "Do you know the route to get to school tomorrow? I think you have a few transfers."

"Bakura offered to walk with me," Ayame replied with a smile. It was, after all, a plan she had been looking toward.

Any expression of happiness on Anzu's face quickly faltered at the mention of Bakura's name. "You know, Jonouchi wasn't joking about his fan club."

"I've dealt with fan clubs before," Ayame responded, confidently, yet nonchalantly. If she could handle Ryuji's fan club, she thought, any fan club that Bakura may have was going to be easy. At least, that was her hope… but maybe she was being too confident.

After all, confidence was key.

The night seemed endless, and no matter how many times Ayame Hirata closed her eyes, they only stayed closed for an hour. Every hour, on the hour, or at least that's the average she tracked. Eventually, at 4:38am, she gave up.

By 5:01am, she was washed.

By 5:22am, she was styled.

By 5:32am, she was dressed.

5:33am.

5:34am.

Thirty seconds.

She looked out her window, hoping that the sun would at least start to peak.

No such luck.

She made her way to the kitchen where her mobile phone was charging on the counter. She flipped the screen open to be greeted by a yellow light and black text reminding her again of the time.

5:36am.

She sighed as she closed the phone screen. She looked at the other end of the counter, looking for inspiration or an activity. She could eat. There was cereal on the counter that she brought over from home. Bran. It was her mother's favorite. She looked at her keys that were hung on a wall hook which had the picture of Uncle Kin and Hikari. She could call Uncle Kin. He's usually up early preparing his famous broth. She took the keys off the hook and looked closely at the picture, especially at the beautiful blonde woman.

Hikari Jonouchi. She looked exactly like her nephew.

And then it hit the brunette.

Without a second thought, she grabbed her keys and phone, storing them promptly in the pocket of her heavy pink wool coat.

"How hard can it be to find yellow chrysanthemums?"

Ayame sat in front of the Jonouchi family tombstone at Happo Cemetery, legs tucked under her, stiff from the cold, but also stiff from shame. She clenched a now dirtied pink rag in her hand that she used to wipe the tombstone. It was a simple, unpolished memorial splotched with black throughout its slate grey color. She did her best to wipe off the moss, but it still didn't make her feel any better.

She sat before a stranger. A dead stranger. But to Ayame, Hikari Jonouchi sat in front of her clear as day. As thoughts raced through her head, she wondered if Hikari could hear them from the other side.

Would she be mad that Ayame couldn't find the yellow chrysanthemums?

Would she be mad that it took Ayame a few days and a bad night's sleep to visit?

She looked up to see the image of the blonde woman was no longer in front of her. All that remained was the neglected tombstone and pink chrysanthemums. She put her hands together, clapped twice, and bowed her head. In her mind, she whispered a prayer and a promise.

"Let's get to know each other."

Her head remained bowed for at least a minute. She wanted to say more. Instead, her mind and mouth stayed silent. And when it quieted, she felt at peace. The cold tickled her face and the wind grazed her hair. And it all felt calm.

She looked back up. The sun was just starting to peak above the ocean horizon, glittering the dark sky with bursts of orange. Its light slowly crept upon the paved walkway and upon all the gravestones, both lacquered and bare. Forgetting she was in a cemetery, she thought the sight was beautiful.

She looked at her phone. 6:12am. If she left now, she would arrive back at her unit by 6:24am. She could grab her bag, maybe a milk pudding or two, and get to Bakura's unit exactly on time. She promptly returned the phone to her pocket. She looked back to the Jonouchi family gravestone and smiled. Uncle Kin loved her for a reason, and Ayame swore that she felt something warm graze her cheek. Against her better logic, spirits weren't real. Energies weren't real. But, at that moment, maybe…

"Can I call you Aunt Hikari?"

6:29am.

Ayame stood in front of Bakura's door with one minute to spare. With most of her fly-aways tamed, two vanilla yogurts in hand, and a single sweat being held back by her hairline, she thought briefly about not knocking at his door. Why? She didn't know. Well, she did know, but it was hard to put all her reasoning into words. Emotions registered as words. Nervous. Doubt. Excited. Anxiety. Her hand refused to move, and she was sure her heart was telling it not to.

But her mind was stronger.

She rolled her hand into a fist and knocked on the door one time, much harder than she anticipated. She quickly retracted her hand and took in a deep breath. Lightly. And she knocked three more times; a normal number of knocks in her opinion.

Regret. Run. Excited. Too late.

Then she waited.

"Just a minute, please!"

Ayame remained silent behind the door. Her fist relaxed at her side as she took a deep breath. If Bakura saw her anxious, it would spark another deep conversation, and Ayame was not ready to talk more about her life. It was too much of a glimpse into her truth, another part of her that she wanted to remain buried. The longer it lay buried, maybe the fear would dissipate and the problem as well.

The two locks soon unlatched and the heavy white door opened revealing the white-haired boy she'd been thinking about for the past two days dressed in Do. Too late. A nervous smile crept on her face. "Hi, Bakura."

But when Bakura's face turned to that of confusion, suddenly Ayame wished she had listened to those feelings her heart was trying to tell her. It was times like these that she hated her mind.

"Ayame? What can I do for you?"

"You asked me to meet you at 6:30 so you could show me how to get to school."

"I… did?"

Bakura's face dropped. Ayame's heart sank. Did she remember what he said right? No, he definitely said to meet him. She pressed on, because she was sure he made the plans.

"Yes, two days ago." There was no time to second-guess herself. After all, her mother always told her that second-guessing is a downward spiral. But, her mother was in jail now. How can she have any credibility? And there it is. She was right.

Guilt spread across his delicate features. It happened again.

"I'm terribly sorry," he started, refusing to look into her eyes. "I sometimes have memory lapses."

Bakura stepped to the side and opened his door wider. "Please come inside. I made tea."

She thanked him, bowed, and entered his unit. She removed her shoes and slipped on a pair of white house slippers near the door. He had several pairs of white slippers, all relatively brand new. The detail intrigued her. A closer look showed that he had five, including the ones she wore on her feet. Maybe a pair for each of his friends. However, the fact that they looked new told her two things: he's a clean freak, or his friends don't visit often. The second thought saddened her, but also reminded her that she can be quite negative if her thoughts are left on their own.

His apartment was also fairly empty. Similar to her unit, it was a one bedroom. However, his bed and desk were in the living area. She looked to where the bedroom was. What could be in there?

"I made oolong tea. Is that okay with you?" Bakura asked as he poured himself a cup from the kettle, also white.

She nodded her head as she took a seat at his small, two seated table. "Sure, I like oolong."

A small smile crept upon his face. He pulled another cup from the cupboard and poured her a cup. "Do you take sugar?"

"No, thank you," she replied, looking at the two yogurts in her hand. "I brought an extra yogurt, if you'd like."

"Thank you, I'll bring out spoons," he responded, carefully bringing the two warm mugs to the table. He placed one in front of her and one where he would be sitting. He returned to the kitchen and brought two small spoons, placing one in front of her and one by himself.

She placed the yogurt in front of him and proceeded to clap her hands together. He followed suit, and together they gave thanks for their meal. At the same time, they removed the aluminum tops from their yogurts and took a bite.

They ate and drank in silence for a few minutes. The silence made Ayame uncomfortable. She took smaller bites. She ate slower. Occasionally, she'd look up to see what Bakura was doing. She found him just as uncomfortable as her. The awkward energy filled the space between them, suffocating her. How long had they really been sitting there? She wanted to reach for her phone to check, but she could hear her mother telling her that would be bad manners.

"What's it like to have memory lapses?"

Bakura shot his head up, taken aback by the question. He stared at her scared like he had been put on the spot.

"Well, it's hard to describe, really," he trailed off, though not intentionally. He never had to put into words what it was like. But he ran a few lines in his head, and none of them made any logical sense. Maybe it wasn't meant to be logical; it just had to make sense. "It's like waking up, but not realizing you fell asleep."

He looked down to his yogurt, still half full. "I don't know until somebody tells me I did something I don't remember doing."

He looked back up to Ayame. "Or that I said something."

"That sounds scary," Ayame commented as she put her spoon down. "I'm sorry that you have to go through that."

"I can't say that I'm used to it, but," he trailed off again. He was used to it. He knew he was used to it. Though, it hasn't happened in a few months since the end of Duelist Kingdom. He was scared, and the fear showed. The question begged, was he back? He placed his hand on his chest, feeling the gold pendant under his jacket. He has to be gone.

She pulled her phone from her pocket and opened it. 7:02am. They still had at least an hour before school started, but then again, she wasn't sure how long it would take for her to get to school. Two transfers between their complex and Domino High School. That was the extent of her knowledge. For a city as large as Domino, she thought they would have at least two high schools like in Shogi.

How big was Domino High School?

"How long does it take to get to school from here?" she asked. She really couldn't stand the thick air.

"Maybe thirty minutes? I'm sorry, I never timed it. I usually go early."

Maybe thirty minutes?

She smiled and stood from her chair. "How early do you like to go?"

"School starts at 8:40am, and I'm usually there around 8:00am," he explained.

"Do you mind if we go a little earlier than that today? I have to meet with the principal and go over my paperwork."

He nodded. "I don't mind at all."

Bakura stood up and began to gather the breakfast items. He washed the tea cups and spoons. Ayame, on the other hand, stood near the kitchen unsure of what she could do to help. A part of her didn't want to ask if she could help. She felt uncomfortable. He seemed different than two days ago.

The confidence, gone.

The extroversion, gone.

She couldn't put her finger on it. It made absolutely no sense to her. Could he be something of a sleepwalker? Is there a switch that changes his masks? The only thing she knew was that this Bakura was not the one she met then. Not one bit.

"Can I ask you something?" She blurted.

Bakura turned his attention from the dishes he was washing in the sink. "Yes?"

She gulped. "Do you remember stopping by my unit at all?"

He hung his head. "To be honest, I don't know which unit is yours."

Bakura turned off the water and wiped his hand on a towel. Guilt rushed over him with streaks of shame. She was really putting him in an uncomfortable spot. He told her that he had memory lapses. This was just another example, yet she was pushing him, more than anybody ever pushed him to remember an event that occurred during his memory lapse.

He had yet to decide if he appreciated it or not.

After all, it made him uncomfortable.

Ayame hung her head. "Oh, I see."

Bakura felt a pang of guilt when her expression changed, as he normally did when he couldn't explain those periods of time. He debated. Should he press to find what happened? He looked at the spoons in his sink. He thought of the yogurt she brought for them. He thought back to the girl with the big hat crying at the train station. Maybe she was lonely, just like he was. Maybe she was looking for friends after being uprooted, just like he was.

She was just like him.

"We have a little bit before we leave," he started as he placed the cleaned dishes on a drying mat. "Can you tell me about what happened two days ago?"

Ayame looked up, shocked, but that shock was soon replaced with happiness. Perhaps she spoke too soon. She nodded her head as they took their old places at the table.

8:04am.

Bakura gauged the time it took to get to school fairly accurately. The school, however, was not as empty as Ayame expected it to be almost half an hour before classes were set to start. She chalked it up to the reason that things were slower paced in Shogi.

She especially didn't take notice of the group of three girls waiting anxiously in front of the gate. They all had their eyes fixated on the road Bakura and Ayame were walking on. It was like they were waiting for somebody to walk up that road at any given moment.

If she did take notice, she would have known they were looking at her and not the road..

A girl long, wavy black hair lifted herself from the brick wall she was leaning on and motioned for the other two girls to follow. The two staggered behind her, like lackeys. They held little expression as they followed. The girl with black hair, however, walked proudly in front. Confidence radiated from every pore on her body, her purple eyes glittering with happiness.

This was usually the best part of her day, but not today.

She stopped dead in her tracks and glared at the brunette walking with Ryo Bakura. Her Ryo Bakura. She was too close to him, and she looked content chatting with him. About what? She didn't know, nor did she care. When she saw him equally content with the company and conversation, her heart dropped.

Not her Ryo Bakura.

"Nozomi, what's wrong?" The shorter girl with a brunette pixie cut asked, taking a step forward to get a better look at her friend with jet-black hair, concern painted clearly all over her face.

"Use your eyes, Yuko," The tall blonde girl with hair tied back in a ponytail snapped as she motioned with her head toward Bakura and Ayame. "We have a problem."

Nozomi looked up to the blonde. "There's no problem, Rei."

Rei looked down to Nozomi, who was a head shorter than her. Nozomi was unusually calm, which is not what Rei has come to expect when any girl is around Bakura. She looked back to see Bakura coming closer, his attention still on the brunette with her long hair tied in a loose braid on one side of her chest, coming down just below the breast.

She was a threat. She threatened the system she carefully constructed around Ryo Bakura. She threatened her place as his protector. She threatened her own sense of stability.

But Nozomi Tanaka had a kind heart.

Nozomi smiled as she placed one hand on her hip. "Ryo just made a new friend. Let's introduce ourselves to her."

Yuko looked up at her friend. "You want to make friends with her?"

The question earned a chuckle from the purple-eyed girl.

"Yes, Yuko," Nozomi replied without sparing the pixie a glance. Her eyes remained fixed on the white-haired boy, who only then noticed her. His smile dropped, earning a smile from her in response. "If Ryo likes her, I will too."

Rei and Yuko looked at each other, confused. The reaction was unusual. They looked back to see that both Bakura and Ayame were now looking at the group. In a few more steps, the pair stopped in front of the group. Yuko looked up to Nozomi, who sported a big smile, bigger than any other time. It scared the pixie. Rei, on the other hand, kept her attention on Ayame.

"Good morning, Ryo," Nozomi greeted.

Bakura smiled gently, but nervously, in response.

Nozomi turned her attention to Ayame. She maintained the same smile that she gave Bakura. "I've never seen you before."

Ayame smiled and bowed slightly. "I just moved to Domino. I'm Ayame Hirata."

Nozomi cocked her head slightly to the side. The side of her mouth curled up slightly into a smirk. "So it's your first day, then?"

"Yes, and I'm pretty nervous to be honest," she laughed. Be personable.

"Don't worry," Nozomi assured, grabbing her hands and pulling them close to her chest. Ayame stumbled forward slightly at the sudden action. "You'll be fine."

Notes

I'm ashamed to say that, in light of being isolated due to the COVID-19 outbreak, I was inspired to finish this chapter. I started writing this in January of 2019. (That's over a year ago)! I was so touched to see that sporadically throughout the year, this story was still being favorited, watched, and reviewed. Thank you all, from the bottom of my heart, for nudging me so ever so slightly. I hope to keep this story coming, and hope that you all are ready.

I'd also like to thank all those out there working during this crisis. To all the healthcare workers, grocery store clerks, maintenance workers, restaurant owners, National Guardsmen, and all other essential workers; you are the true heroes. Thank you for being on that front line.

Readers, stay safe and be healthy. We'll get through this together.