I lay sprawled across my bed, scrolling mindlessly through my phone when a headline caught my eye. "Miki Kato and Arata Fujimoto Spotted Together in Shibuya Shopping Mall—Are They Dating?" The thumbnail was a snapshot of Miki in a casual but elegant outfit, walking beside Arata, who exuded that effortless cool he was known for. Her smile, as she looked over at him, seemed bright enough to light up a whole city. For a moment, it was like the air had been knocked out of me.
Miki… my childhood friend. The girl I used to know better than anyone.
I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the screen. But curiosity gnawed at me, and finally, I tapped the video. The screen filled with shaky, zoomed-in footage shot by fans as Miki and Arata strolled through a bustling crowd. They laughed together, stopping every so often to glance into a shop window. I traced every one of her movements, as if studying her would somehow reveal the girl I knew underneath this polished woman she'd become. But it was impossible. She seemed like someone else—more refined, confident, carrying herself with a grace that wasn't there back when we were kids, running through the streets and laughing until we couldn't breathe.
The memories flooded back, vivid and bittersweet. We were inseparable once, two kids in our own world. Summers spent building forts in the park, trading secrets under starlit skies, daring each other to take on silly, reckless challenges. I could still hear her laughter, bright and unrestrained, her hair flying as she raced me down the street. Back then, she was just Miki—no last name attached, no titles, no spotlight. Just Miki.
But everything changed when high school started. She got her big break in a TV drama, a role that quickly catapulted her into the public eye. I didn't even know about it until one evening, when I flicked on the TV and there she was, in character, but still somehow unmistakably her. That was how I learned she'd made her debut. Soon after, she transferred schools, moved closer to the city. I never even got the chance to say goodbye. I kept waiting for her to call, to send a message, but her world was spinning faster than I could follow. Slowly, I started to believe she'd left our friendship behind, a relic of her old life.
Now, watching her here, laughing alongside a guy like Arata Fujimoto, the realization of how far apart we were hit harder than I'd expected. The reporter in the video speculated about their relationship, while Arata laughed at something she'd said. She looked at him with a spark in her eyes—a spark I recognized from our old inside jokes. Seeing her like this, happy but distant, reminded me of everything we used to be, and everything we'd lost along the way. I wondered if she even remembered me, or if I was just a footnote in her past.
With a bitter sigh, I closed the video and set my phone down, staring blankly at the ceiling. An ache settled in my chest, hollow and stubborn. Part of me knew it was pointless to hold on, to cling to memories that no longer had any place in her life. She was Miki Kato now, a star in a world so distant from my own. But some part of me still remembered the warmth of her smile, her unrestrained laughter. Those memories clung to me, like fragile threads tying me to a past that was long gone.
I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. Maybe one day, I'd run into her again. Maybe she'd remember me. Or maybe… she was already lost to me forever.
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Sigh.
Now here I was, standing in front of a luxurious hotel, adjusting the sleek black suit I'd borrowed for the occasion. The suit was a gift from an old client—a good one, sharp and fitted, but it felt odd wearing it now. I still didn't fully understand why I'd been summoned to this meeting, but I felt the weight of it.
"Welcome." A hotel attendant greeted me as I walked through the grand doors.
I went straight to the front desk, pulling out my phone to show the email with the meeting details to the receptionist.
"Tsukishiro Shin-sama?" she confirmed, scanning my face with polite curiosity.
"Yes, that's me," I replied, slipping my phone back into my pocket.
"You're meeting in room 403. They're waiting for you there," she said with a practiced smile.
"Thank you," I said, giving her a small nod before heading toward the elevators, my mind buzzing with questions.
After a quick elevator ride, I found myself in front of room 403. Taking a breath to steady myself, I knocked twice.
"Come in," a voice called from the other side.
I entered the room, and my gaze immediately fell on two people seated across a sleek conference table, dressed in matching office attire. A man and a woman. They both looked at me with sharp, assessing eyes, but what struck me most was that they were both unusually attractive, like they'd stepped out of a magazine spread.
"Nice to meet you," the man said, standing to extend his hand. "I'm Takahashi Naoto, and this is my partner, Takahashi Naomi."
"Tsukishiro Shin," I replied, shaking his hand and nodding toward Naomi, who gave me a warm smile.
"Please, have a seat," Naomi said, gesturing to a chair across from them. I sat down, a little stiff, trying to read the atmosphere.
"Would you like some coffee? Or tea?" she offered.
"Coffee's fine, thank you," I replied, hoping it would steady my nerves.
As she poured my coffee, I glanced around the room, still uncertain why they'd called me here. After a moment of polite sipping, Naoto leaned forward, his gaze steady on mine.
"I imagine you're wondering why we asked you to meet us," he said.
I nodded, carefully setting my coffee cup down. "I admit I am… curious."
"Well, let's not waste time." Naoto picked up a remote, and with the press of a button, the large screen on the wall flickered to life. A video began to play, and to my shock, my parents appeared on the screen, looking uncharacteristically solemn.
"Hello, Shin," my mother began, her voice strained. "I'm sorry we couldn't tell you this in person. But… we've made a difficult decision. We've decided… to sell you."
"What?" The word shot out of me in disbelief, my hand clenching involuntarily. I could feel my face heating up, a mix of anger and bewilderment rushing through me. My parents had said a lot of crazy things over the years, but this?
Naoto paused the video, his gaze calm as he took in my reaction.
"What… what do they mean by 'selling'?" I demanded, struggling to keep my voice steady.