I saw her standing there across the street from us, long before she looked up. When she did, our eyes met. She was wearing a bright yellow sweater that was impossible to miss, and a grey toque with a brim that covered most of her eyes. She tipped her head down slightly, and her amber eyes suddenly disappeared.

It was the first time I’ve seen her since she ran out of the bar, glistening tears in her eyes. There was an unfamiliar awkwardness between us. And the wide Ginza street seperating us was not an inaccurate analogy for it.

But without a doubt I knew she saw me. Us. For a brief moment I looked at Aya-chan, and she smiled. I felt a shot of guilt coursing through my body. I wondered what Saori was thinking.

I hadn’t talked to her since, putting off calling her again and again. Was our friendship over?

I heard the signal for the light change, and I knew we had to walk towards Saori. I had to stop her and say something, anything.

“Ikou!” Aya grinned and we went forward together.

Compared to my friendship with Saori, Aya was just a visiting cousin. I felt somewhat betrayed, for my aunt and uncle to think that the two of us were an item, when they only returned to visit every three years.

We were nearly at the other side of the street. Where was Saori? My eyes wandered through the crowd and didn’t find that bright yellow. Where could a colour that bright have gone? I swore I saw her. There was no mistake about it.

I paused in step and Aya stopped, turning around confused.

“Doushita no?”

I shook my head. “Betsumi.” I took one last look at the retreating crowds before following my cousin.

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