'-And now, what do I do with you…?' A pair of purple eyes flickered from the slam of the door to meet the remaining person in her room. Her fingers continued to dance meticulously across the metal keys, her eyes bore deeply into her statuesque guest, whose mind seemed to have wandered into the clouds. Until a thunderous rumble rolled out of an empty stomach, speaking up in protest for the inventor.
Finally, she gave the keyboard one last order and strolled casually to join her friend at the centre of the room. 'Why are you here?' Hotaru stared coolly down at her friend. A dark shadow casted upon Mikan's cheeks, concealing the lingering fear and self-doubt that Hotaru almost saw. But the shadows resigned, unable to keep the clutches of optimism that inevitably filled back into her system.
The guest sat rigidly, the question had sent her through a flying array of events that led her into this situation. 'Why, Hotaru? You asked me to come to lunch.' Mikan cheerfully responded. She smiled innocently as her friend took a seat opposite her.
'That's not what I mean. You know, I know, you are lying.' The tempered girl responded gently, and snapped her fingers. The lavender in her eyes glittered excitedly as she watched the smile from her new victim's face flicker and fade like a horror movie lightbulb. But once again she met stubborn silence.
'I don't have any more lessons after lunch,' Hotaru continued, the threat was evident in her choice of words, like a lullaby before the storm. A bookshelf swivelled autonomously revealing a robot carrying a giant black lacquered box. It presented the gift onto the glass table with an echoing 'clack', which was the only response Hotaru received from the room.
'My room has a lock onto it…' Hotaru muttered to the other being in the room. She opened the box, her attention diverted immediately to its luxurious generous portion of freshly caught salmon, tuna, sweet shrimp, crabs, accompanied by an avocado salad, and rice. Hotaru could not stop admiring the glistening outer shell of the crab; she pondered at the delicious sweetness that contained within. A waft of fishiness swamped around the room, its intoxicating perfume bewitched the foodie, as she reached for her slender phone in its slender case from the folds of her blazer.
Her silent friend edged slightly towards the exit, when she noticed how distracted her companion became. Lights started flickering as the phone camera started to snap viciously in every angle. It almost seemed that the professional photographer clearly had her heart set out in the delicate meal rather than interrogating her victim.
Mikan gently grazed the door handle, but froze as the cool tone echoed from the depths of the dark box, '…the lock does not open without my permission.' The inventor said. The brunette grinded her eyebrows together in response. The photographer was more or less having a conversation with herself, but she had other things to consider and was interlocked with her battle for the perfect photo to upload onto her social media account.
A sharp intake of breathe that sounded much too frightened to enter fully into it's speakers lungs stuttered softly a splintered sentence, it woke Hotaru's sleeping attention:
'My mum… Passed away…'