35 You! You're Coming With Me!
"That guy-,"
"Is a total miscreant!"
I complete Roxanne's statement by adding a vulgar description to the man creating a scene. His actions feel disturbing the more we watch the incident happening before us. It almost feels like he is only responding generously to us, since we are both females in our school uniform attire.
As if supporting my claim, the server crashes at his coworker and splatters the beverages from the metallic tray. It all happens because of his fortuitousness by not looking to where he is going. His eyes lock onto the target, only to see a girl standing at his fore with astonishment. She becomes perturbed by his gestures and wishes to run away. But the man apologises to the woman and bows his head, ironically, unlike the man he has hit before.
"Shouldn't the client fight back…?" Roxanne expresses her thoughts and whispers the question to my ear. She knows servers are also humans like us, but what he has done is not wonted in the hotel. The hotel's manager could even fire him from his job if he is not careful about the situation.
The waiter is up against a client with extravagant clothing and fine accessories surrounding his body. He even has a luxurious car waiting for him outside before these have happened to him. But the client remains calm as soon as he recognizes two bodyguards help him on his way out, but not the server that has done the event.
"Excuse me ladies but I, uh-," The man finally makes his way to us and strikes a conversation. He clasps his hands to remove the sweat and speaks to us as if nothing has ever happened.
"I would like to invite you two again sometimes to this hotel, and, you know, grab a-," The man adds, but I have already expected his attempt as I reply and reject his offer.
"We would love to, but we are on the way. We just tried the meal, hoping that we could meet with someone." What I have said are my straightforward reasons. Roxanne and I still need to find Nickson, or whoever has sent this mail, bringing us here to the hotel.
Despite our nonacceptance, the server-who we still do not know his name inclines his head and leaves without uttering a single word. I could not stress enough that his actions feel strange compared to what we have seen just now.
Just as we are about to go on our way, I notice a man wearing a tuxedo-like suit averts his gaze upon meeting with mine. He gyrates around and flees with the crowd, confusing me with all the people passing by. I do not know why but this scene is identical to those action movies I have been watching for the past few years.
"When did I have my stalkers?" I tell myself as I watch the mysterious man fade away from the mass.
"Are you alright, Yuki?" Roxanne could not help but feel worried about me after seeing my exhausted expression.
Who wouldn't?
I shift my head to my rear, making sure that there is nobody else following us around. We cannot lay our guard for too long since there might be someone still out there lurking around our vicinity.
I swear that I have not disclosed my identity yet as the famous author who makes webnovels nowadays. They only know my pen name, and I refuse to attend any events to interact with my fans.
"No. I am fine. I felt like someone was paying close attention to us. Maybe I thought wrong, Roxanne." I shrug the thought aside and urge Roxanne to lead the way to the orphanage.
Thankfully, Roxanne knows when to act silent, given our situation right now. This happening is not the only time we have experienced such creepy occurrences in our lifetime. There are a few instances from here and there, you know, stalkers and creeps wandering us, chasing women.
It is never our fault that they are chasing us to the ends of the earth. Those scumbags that want our attention should be the ones that we need to blame, not the innocent women; remember that.
We take a fifteen-minute walk towards the orphanage with a full stomach after eating that one heck of a Wagyu Beef. Along the way, I have purchased two eight pieces of takoyaki, fresh from the takoyaki pan, wanting to give the rest for Himari as her treat.
"Sister Yuki, bring my a gift when you stop by here, okay?" Her voice emerges inside my mind as I buy the round and juicy spheres.
Takoyaki is a golden orb of fried batter with bits of octopus inside, tenkasu (tempura scraps), benishoga (pickled ginger) and spring onion. The aureate balls come from Osaka, frizzled in only in cast-iron pans, as you watch the takoyaki vendors skillfully flip the balls at an intense pace using chopsticks. We advise you to eat the cooked takoyaki piping hot, slightly crisp on the outside, gooey on the inside, with a slather of Japanese mayonnaise, a savoury brown sauce similar to Worcestershire, aonori (dried seaweed) and katsuobushi (dried bonito fish flakes).
We knock at the front door and wait for someone to appear and greet us. After a few minutes, the caretaker and Himari welcome our arrival. As soon as the little girl notices our snack, she races inside and invites us over to eat.
"Look, sister Yuki, Roxanne, I made sandwiches for the both of you!" The smile on her face is priceless for us to see as she encourages us to sit at the separate chairs near the table.
The tangy smell of cooked meat on top of the lettuces and cheese greets our nose. Upon looking at the board, we spot the sandwiches that Himari has told us about from before. Our eyes glisten in hunger, as the two of us stare at the loaves of bread.
"I thought we ate already?" Roxanne blurts with her watering mouth. She glances at me, asking for permission if we could devour the hoagie in our mouths.
With a single gesture of my head, the two of us leap at the board and gobble up the snack. The generous Himari watches us like she watches pigs eat their meal, gnawing the bread inside our mouths. Our tummies have bloated upon munching the food inside our lips-,
"Not a single word," I call out to whoever's voice ringing inside my head.
You can never call a woman fat, or else something terrible is going to happen to you! The same applies to me since I am a woman with dignity, confidence, and a sandwich in my hands.
"It just melts in our tongue!" I could almost see Roxanne flutter to the sky while helping herself with a bite at the delicious-looking bread with a twist of Japanese ingredients.
Himari has tried her best to imitate our traditional homemade sandwiches. However, she does not have the store-based food found in the mart back in the United States of America.
But the taste feels fantastic!
"Like my mother used to make." I let out the classic line from generic movies in which we burst into tears, dying hard from laughing.
As we indulge ourselves with our snack, a soft banging sound resonates in front of the door, alarming us, almost disrupting our meal. We do not mind the vibration at first. But the person behind the gate repeats, only this time more violent than ever.
"Wait a minute, girls, I will just see who is at the door." The old lady approaches the ingress and unlocks the gates, only to see a young man wearing the same school uniform as ours, but with a jet-black suit covering his clothes.
Much to my surprise, Nickson is not wearing his usual eyeglasses. With that look, I am sure that he will get destructive in the next minute of this conversation.
The lad lifts his head and meets our eyes. Upon exchanging looks, the familiar man broadens his orbs, wishing to run away and regrets visiting the foundling home.
However, he is too late to escape as the caretaker grabs his shoulders and forces him to sit with us at the table.
"Long time no see, Nickson." Roxanne, the ever gullible and ignorant girl, waves her arms and greets Nickson with warm and welcoming hands, forgetting what he has come through a while back. I poke my elbow at her head, hoping that it could juggle her memories back to where it belongs.
The gentle blow allows her to remember the hardships from our life we have faced about finding this Korean guy, Nickson. Roxanne stands up from her seat and marks the man with an angry look on her face.
"Long time no see, Nickson!" My best friend rebroadcasts her words but adding more feel to them than before. She is now standing upright with her teeth gritting from side to side, wishing to murd-I mean hug the boy until the depths of his dreams.
"Why are the two of you upset?" Nickson voices his concerns as he casually prepares himself a loaf of bread, mixing the same ingredients that Himari uses to make us two sandwiches.
Who does he think he is, a philanthropist millionaire like in the movies?
"I am a philanthropist with a large sum of money in my pockets; thank you, Himari." Nickson has done it again, reading my mind like an open book.
"If you stare at anyone like that, it would be easier for them to read you." The narcissistic boy adds while grubbing at the sandwich, with a hint of Korean spices he adds in his pockets.
"Where did you even get that?" Roxanne is the one who asks as we both peer through his vest, guessing the number of things he must have inside.
"Oh, this? I always have one with me during these times." Nickson waves the container at us, as if urging everyone to buy his Korean spices of some sort. Upon taking a glimpse of the can, I have noticed that it is actually a mixture of salt, pepper, and butter inside.
"That is not the point here. Anyway, why aren't you attending your duties?" I sweep the trivial topic off from our fore as I ask him a question as straightforwardly as possible.
