7 Drafts and Other Things I Have left Behind

Nickson B. Park's Perspective

____________________________

"Himari, was there a shoulder bag lying in the middle of the park?" I mark the sector between the two willow trees from where I have left my bag. The sack should be there, but somebody must have held it already, and the orphanage is the closest building near the park.

It might not have been that long since nobody goes in and out of this park early in the morning.

"No, I didn't!" She happily replies while presenting me a girl standing right next to the two figures of another woman and a boy. The character shows the same features as the girl with the name Yuki, who claims to sue me no matter what my circumstance takes.

She has light crimson hair and a petite looking body. Himari even mimicked her clothes and the way she would likely pose once in front of a camera like the ditzy girl she is on the piece of paper in her hands.

"Look, onii-chan! I drew the three of us!" Himari puts her hand at each of the figures as she explains the identity of the human-like shapes. "This is you!"

Her sketch captures my tailored, jet black jacket pairing with my nerdy-looking glasses. Beside me is a drawing of a girl that I have met before.

'I think Yuki is her name,' I reckon, while recalling what her companion have uttered during that time when they last see me.

"That's a really nice drawing that you got there, little fella!" I compliment her work before asking for something that I must know.

"Himari, have you seen a girl wearing a blueish uniform that looks like this?" I stretch out my ends of my clothes under the obsidian suit-like jacket while pointing to the girl Himari painted on the note.

"Big sister Yuki?" She asks while marking in the direction from where the school is. "She just passed by here moments ago and gave me cookies! ~"

"Was she bringing a shoulder bag with her?" I append while waving my hand, forming a shape that looks like an enlarged bag.

"Yes!" Himari answers. "She told me to cover my eyes and ears, but I didn't and heard lots and lots of curses and bad words from her mouth."

That's all I need to know.

"Thanks, Himari!" I respond while gyrating my body over to the Tokyo International Japanese School. "I'll come back later this evening, okay?"

"Okay, onii-chan!" She waves her hand and sees me off, running towards the busy street while munching a cookie on her hands.

Fortunately for me, I will hit two birds with one stone by finally meeting this one hell of an author.

___________________________________________________________

Back to Yuki's Perspective-The day she took home the shoulder bag Nick left during their talk.

______________________________________________________

"Now, what on earth are we going to do about this?"

I position the bag on top of my table, marveling to examine its content or wait for Nick to come to school. He will probably go back for his belongings since he has many things ejecting from the bag's zipper.

I can even see the pads and various kinds of pen peeking through from inside, waiting for someone to open them.

"Beats me?" Roxanne utters while goggling at the nearly unbolted bag. She then reaches her hands on the fastener, only to meet with my fingers, already waiting for her sneaky attempt.

"I just wanted to see what's inside," Roxy retaliates while eventually diving at the back wall, pouting and staring intensely at my figure. "I bet you want to know what he keeps inside of his bag!"

"I want to, but that's just wrong, Roxy," I voice out my concerns while hopelessly averting my gaze at the shiny leather-like bag in front of me. Roxy knows I cannot lie, so she gives me a smirk and eventually dashes straight beside me.

"Who knows what wonders contained inside that magical box!"

"It's a bag," I interpose while timidly looking at her in the eyes. "A bag left behind by that dumbass Nick!".

"That's why we should peek inside!"

"And that's why I told you not to do it!"

Soon, we scramble on the mattress and blast each other using the delicate feather goose pillows. We smack and cluster the pillows everywhere in my room, waiting for someone to pick them and throw them to the enemy. Feathers fly out from here and there, creating a widespread mess that looks like a war made by five to eight-year-old children during a sleepover.

The funny thing about this is we have yet to try sleeping over at each of our houses, since both Roxy and I have strict yet busy parents. They would never allow us to stay outdoors or indoors in the middle of the night despite having a pyjama party together with my best friend, even if she is living right next door.

Every time our ideas clash, we argue it out through a pillow fight. Whoever wins the match would earn the title of getting the last call for the situation, and the loser will walk in shame!

Probably letting the person wait outside, raining without an umbrella or something of the like.

This entire thing is our undisclosed culture that nobody knows! Not even the government will identify about this horseplay.

In the end, I win the battle and earn the right to decide our next course of plan to do with this shoulder.

Before I can even tell her my decision, Roxanne puffs out her cheeks and sniffs with a tear. Afterwards, she covers her face using the blanket and takes a peek from the hole from time to time and watches my movements.

"Roxanne, I won, remember?"

"Booo~,"

She then resumes back to her original position while sticking her tongue out before returning behind the pillows.

She is like a hamster, judging me for who I am inside her bin cage. Roxane might not even look at me as a human being, but a dried insect she wants to nibble to death.

"I hope not," I accidentally murmur to myself while gradually approaching the untamed creature.

"Roxane, I won!" I announce with high-spirits. By the time that I reach her side, she forthwith hisses at me while baring her nails as if getting attacked by a predator of some sort.

"Stop it! Come on! I won fair and square,"

"I know!" She angrily replies while maintaining her sulking face, unable to admit her defeat.

As scarce as hen's teeth, she does this every time she loses against me in a pillow fight. She would sit on a corner, glares at me with menacing eyes while rocking back and forth with her judging look.

Her expression will only change once she acknowledges my claim or giving her the prize that she wants the most.

"Alright, you got me." I raise my hand and accept my defeat. If there is one thing that I dislike, that's making my only friend cry or sad.

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Really really really really?" She assures, still dubious about the abrupt changes.

"Do you want me to take it back?" I cross my shoulders and act impatiently at my suspicious friend.

"I believe you! I believe youuu!" Roxy hastily pounces on me and attempts to lick my cheek. Fortunately, my hands have already expected that action and safeguard my lips in case something like this would even happen.

"No fair!" She appends jokingly while we burst into laughter.

"You're the bestest friend I ever have in this world."

"You're mine, too!~"

In an instant, after saying such warm things in front of me, she giddily goes for the bag and unzips it open as if it was hers. I want to warn her, but I have already gave her my permission to open the bag.

"I told you, we'll find something!" She announces, while waving the sheets of drawings in her hands.

My eyes widen as soon as I notice the recognisable pose, outfit, and facial features in front of me brought to life. There are even panels and scenes taken from the novel around where I murdered the protagonist's mother before him. With him are the characters I made up that travel throughout his journey.

"I can't believe he drew all of these," This does not come from an average fan that supports my novel.

The drawings themselves are the skills etch by the artists with all their passion and love for the story. Even the tiniest of details of the characters, expressions, zombies, and cities are all present in those borders.

"These are his art materials," Roxane rests the colouring pens and pencils on the table. Each of them represents the hues coming from the paper.

As we shake the bag open, we find two volumes of "Crime Legacy" and "Zombiz" still in fine condition. I can see no scratches or folded pages despite its frequent usage of the reader.

I know he is reading the books without fail because of his multiple bookmarks placed on each of the chapters. Nick may have marked them since these are the climaxes that the characters resolved or scenes that are too strenuous for him to draw.

"He must have been working hard to make all of these drafts," Roxanne murmurs while scanning each of the drawings and admiring his work.

I could not help but to do the same and scrutinise his godly works. He draws these artworks with sheer dedication and hard work, with the rest of his plates posted online.

"Yeah, but we still need to make sure Nick uses his earnings properly or else…" It becomes painful for me to continue my sentence, thinking that I might be bad-mouthing such a diligent artist that just wants to animate my novels.

There have been thousands of artists out there that do these things without asking for my permission. All of them received proper punishment with the help of my editor tracking down those worthless rascals, making money out of what I made!

However, my eyes have taken no interest in them. Not even once!

But something is bugging me every time I stare at his artworks. It is as if I can feel his sadness overflowing from these broken and erased lines unseen by the naked eye.

"Yuki, why are you crying?" Roxane, ever the worrying girl, taps my cheeks and immediately hugs me from the back.