Chapter 1: Because You Are Here
"Where’s the damn food for table nine? They’ve been waiting half an hour! Altboy, move your ass!"
"Y-Yes, sir… Almost done!"
He works frantically, yet his hands remain steady as he
transfers food from the bowls to the serving plates. Sweat drips down his face;
the kitchen feels like a furnace.
A drop of sauce splatters onto his shirt.
"Ah, man… I just bought this yesterday. Haa…" he
sighs.
His phone vibrates.
"Who is it now?" he mutters in frustration. He
reaches into his pocket, but the chef notices.
"You wanna get yelled at again?"
"Oh, no, no—sorry, my bad," he blurts, quickly
glancing at the screen. "Unknown number?"
He shoves the phone back into his pocket and focuses on the
finishing touches. The call lingers in his mind, a buzzing distraction, but he
pushes it aside for now.
Pushing through the kitchen door, he rushes to table
nine.
"Sorry for the delay—here’s your food!"
An elderly couple smiles at him warmly. The woman says,
"My, you’re such a dashing boy. You remind me of my son
when he was young. Isn’t that right, dear?"
"Absolutely," replies her husband.
The young waiter blushes, scratching the back of his
head.
"I’m flattered—thank you."
---
Almost midnight. The manager, Mr. Geppetto, locks the
restaurant door and pulls down the shutter.
"Okay, kid. Go home. We’ve got an early morning
tomorrow."
"Yes, sir. I’ll try to be on time."
"I hope you do."
Geppetto waves without turning back, heading for his
car.
"Six weeks, and I still can’t get a read on that
boy…" he mutters before glancing up at the glowing restaurant sign.
"…or this job. Sigh."
The waiter watches the car drive off, then starts down the
sidewalk. Passing a vending machine, he buys a can of soda and sinks onto the
nearby bench.
The streets are silent, the moon bright, a cool breeze
brushing past.
Then—footsteps. A pause. He turns to his right.
A girl stands beneath a streetlight. Casual trousers, a thin
sweater. Black hair sways in the wind, pale skin glows under the moon, dark
eyes unreadable. She sips from a can she must have bought from the same
machine.
W-Woah… she’s beautiful. He quickly looks away,
embarrassed at staring too long.
He takes a sip of his drink, trying to distract himself.
Suddenly, he remembers the missed call at work. Pulling out his phone, he dials
the unknown number.
The number you have dialed is currently unreachable. Please
try again later.
"Huh?" He redials.
The number you have dialed… He cuts the call,
scowling.
"Strange. Call me, then shut your phone off?
Rude."
He stares at the number. Something gnaws at him.
Why do I feel like I’ll miss something important if I don’t
try again?
Without hesitating, he dials once more. This time, it
connects. His heart skips, but he steadies himself as the line rings.
A sound cuts through the night—
A ringtone. Nearby.
He looks left—nothing. Then right—
The girl pulls a phone from her pocket.
Wha—It’s her? His pulse quickens. Then he laughs it off
internally.
No way. A beauty like that calling me? Pure
coincidence.
He’s about to hang up when—
Click.
"H-Hello?"
“Oh…” He almost cut the call but quickly raised the phone to
his ear.
“Oh—hello! Uh, I got a call from this number earlier. Sorry
I didn’t pick up, I was a little busy. Um, may I know who this is?”
“Busy? Busy with what?”
“Oh, well, I work at a— Hold on. First, answer my question,
please. I don’t know who you are.”
“How disappointing. I know you very well. Did you forget me
already?”
“Uh…” He hesitates, brow furrowing.
Is this some kind of scam? Seriously… why bother with a
bottom-feeder like me? Go scam Bruce Wayne or something…
“You can hang up now. We can talk face-to-face.”
“Huh? But I don’t know where you are! Who you are! What the
hell—”
A gentle tap lands on his shoulder. A calm, composed voice
speaks from his right:
“Because I am here.”
He jolts, whipping his head toward the voice.
It’s her. The same girl who had been standing a short
distance away is now right beside him.
The wind picks up, rustling the trees, and the moonlight
pours through, illuminating her hair—smooth, black, and swaying like silk in
the breeze. Her eyes catch the light, sparkling like cut diamonds. A gentle
smile rests on her lips.
He is struck silent. Time seems to stop. She doesn’t look
real—more like something heaven accidentally let slip into the world.
“Hello?” she says.
“B-Beautiful…” The word slips out before he can stop
himself.
“Huh? What do you mean?”
He snaps out of his daze, panicked.
“O-Oh! Sorry, I drifted off there for a second. Could you
repeat what you said?”
“Wait, Altairen—don’t tell me you don’t recognize me…”
Huh? How does she know my name?
“I… uh… I’m sorry, I’ve got a really bad memory. And I
definitely don’t remember being acquainted with someone so beauti— cough,
cough I mean… I don’t think we’ve met before.”
She presses a hand to her forehead with a sigh.
“Unbelievable. Are you sure you didn’t hit your head and
lose your memory? It’s me! Miya!”
“Miya?”
His thoughts spiral. He tries to dig through the fog of his
memories, his eyebrows tightening with effort. And then—
“Miya? From Citadel High?”
“Yes! Finally. Sigh… so you do remember.”
The name hits him like a jolt. A storm brews in his
chest—excitement, disbelief, joy all colliding. At last, after years apart,
he’s face-to-face with the girl he once called his childhood friend… and the
one who had been his high school crush.