⠀⠀08. ultra deduction⠀⠀

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THERE WAS SOMETHING special about mornings after a night of rain

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THERE WAS SOMETHING special about mornings after a night of rain.

Maybe it was the raindrops that clung to the leaves on the trees and mixed with the morning dew, or the droplets of that covered the windows of parked cars and buildings, or even just the puddles that lay in the middle of footpaths—to Y/N, they were all equally such a refreshing sight.

Y/N awoke to the pitter-pattering of the gentle rain on her window, creating a rhythmic symphony. The clouds were a light shade of grey and they veiled the azure sky above, but in some places where the sun managed to shine through the ring of clouds, it was almost like a golden halo of light shining down on Yokohama.

The girl sat up in bed, yawning as she stretched her arms outwards, a little stiff from how soundly she had slept.

Getting out of bed took a while because her bed had just been that comfy, but eventually, she managed to get up and headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth, coming back to clean up her bed and then go and make herself a nice breakfast.

On her way to the kitchen, Y/N didn't see S/N anywhere—including the lounge (though her bear was still seated on the sofa, just as she'd left it last night), which was a little bit of a shocker to Y/N, considering her sister always woke up early solely so she could watch her favourite show.

She came to the conclusion that S/N had gone off to work extra early today, and it'd probably been some kind of important meeting that'd called her.

Not thinking too hard about it, the girl turned on the TV and watched the Morning News—she hadn't bothered to switch the channel—while she prepared her breakfast. She'd settled with fried eggs and sausages, with a glass of orange juice. (And then, after it all, a bar of chocolate, because she couldn't go the day without something sweet in her system.)

While she ate, her eyes caught a piece of folded paper that was tucked beneath the tissue box. Curiously, Y/N reached over and picked it up, opening it up.

She knew what it was immediately.

The agreement to sell the bakery, with only one thing missing—her signature. Y/N sighed and lifted the tissue box, placing the paper back where she found it and continuing on with her breakfast, trying to ignore the way her stomach churned knowing that very soon, the bakery would be no more.

Once she was done, she got ready for the day, making sure to grab her umbrella before she left.

The walk was nothing short of pleasant, the earthy scent of petrichor momentarily calming Y/N's nerves, and the pitter-patter of the rain bringing about an unexplainable ease.

But that ease was short-lived.

Because nothing—absolutely nothing in the whole world—could prepare her for what she was met with when she reached the bakery. At the sight of the shattered windows and broken glass, Y/N's heart rate increased exponentially.

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