Tonight, you’d found yourself amidst the buzzing ambiance of a local bar—and she happened to stumble upon you, too.

You’d gotten engaged just a few weeks ago, though you were unhappy about it. Drowning yourself with alcohol was the only possible way you ought to try and stop the world, in hopes to stop the feeling that has been buried within you since years ago.

Getting engaged and soon married to a man was not something you ever had planned in your entire life. You never wanted it either, but what other choice did you have? Growing up with a strict family who forced their traditions towards you was one of the main reasons for your misery.

Before you knew it, years had already passed since your little fling with Shoko.

It was something that was bound to end from the very start, doomed by the narrative as one would say. Things between you and her never really lasted, considering the fact that you never wanted for your family to find out. She’d told you that you’d regret all of this in the future, but you couldn’t bear to listen—even if you knew that was the truth.

You had many reasons, too much even. Reasons after reasons—to the point the two of you had grown tired of it, but that feeling never really left. It was unexplainable, sure, but it was there. It had always been.

Shoko easily spotted you along the crowd. In all fairness, how could she forget the figure of whom she loved so true?

You were sitting in the corner of the bar, slumped against the table with your hair in a knotted mess. There was an empty glass that sat in front of you, yielded by your hands as you dozed off. Everything was slurred.

All of a sudden, you’d feel a presence next to you. Despite the blurry vision you contained, you’d feel something familiar blooming in your chest—as if your heart was drumming against it. You've been longing for this, to see her again. You must have yearned too much for your soul itself to tell.

“Ah…I hate to say that I’d told you so. You certainly look like a mess.”