𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙀𝙎𝙎𝙀𝘿 on the 𝙎𝘼𝙈𝙀 𝙎𝙆𝙔 - 𝚔𝚎𝚒 𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚊

33 - The Luminance Of Night

"I came to apologize." His voice sounds so submissive, emphasizing how serious he is.

"Apologize? What 'apologize'?" My voice is low, quite sarcastic. A little sad, though. "I don't know anything about an 'apologize'. Precisely not to a person who doesn't even take confidence in my words to know how good enough he is."

There's no way, even once, I didn't forget the words he said to me on that day. Not only his words, but how piercing his stares were. And I can't just vocalize how it scarred my soul.

"Can we just pretend that I didn't say what I said, like we usually do?" I notice his annoyance as he gestures his free hand in compliance.

Excuse me?

"No, Kei, we can't." I appear to be firm and stoic. "Because I know too well that you spent at least a second contemplating my kind words to you and blew your little outburst to me! You. Shut. ME. Out."

"But you didn't tell me that you'd stay here in Tokyo . . !" At least he holds his voice back.

"I was about to tell you! But guess what? You shut me out!"

"You could've just phoned?"

And why is he so demanding? He's the one who has a fault in here!

"After shutting me out?" I counter, scoffing. "Have it crossed to your mind that I can shut you out as well?"

"Okay." He finally yielded. His shoulder sinks, showing me his defiant side. "I knew what I did back there was wrong, that's why I came here to apologize."

"You know that sorrys and apologies are meaningless nowadays." I have a sad frown on my face as I stare in front. "And what does it concern you if I would forgive you or not? Just so you know, I don't hold grudges."

Yes, it scarred me. The time he shut me out, I wouldn't lie that I didn't think of it for a week. That very day hurt the most and I couldn't get it off my head. But eventually, I managed to get myself busy and moved on.

"It concerns me," he replies, sensing his grip on my wrist tightens. "And I know for a person like you, who has been through a lot of name-accuses, I know that you won't hold grudges."

"Heh," I smirk, "but that doesn't include the fact that you shut me, I shut you."

"I hear you." Then he angles his head to face me. "But I hold onto the words you said in an interview."

"What interview? I did a lot of interviews."

"The one that still acknowledges me as a friend of yours."

Then I say derisively, "Ask if I had a choice. What do you want me to call you?"

"Nothing." He shrugs. "You could've just owned the credits to yourself, but you did involve me and say that I'm a friend."

He's getting his hopes high . . . And I'm losing this argument!

"You know what? I'm leaving." Only if I can leave without him holding my wrist! Why does he have long fingers and I'm just all bones?! "Kei, can you just please respect my decision that I want to leave?"

"I will," he persists, "after you hear me out."

I huff, sitting down again. My wrist is only one that's hurting here. And I don't know if he notices, but the situation has flipped. I gaze at him, giving him a 'what?' look.

"I'm aware that you've forgiven me—"

"I know, I know, don't get too cocky," I cut him off.

"What?" He's got disbelief in his eyes.