Chapter Thirty Three

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"Dear Maya,

Today marks the fifth year since graduation; since I saw and heard of you last. Sometimes I wonder if you've forgotten me, if you've become some big-shot artist like you've always wanted with no time to spare. I can't think of any other reason why you haven't written back once. But I won't stop trying. You're my best friend, and I love you, and you really need to write back.

Love, (Y/n)."

I set the calligraphy pen down on the edge of the writing table, sighing heavily to myself. My eyes never left the still-drying ink on the paper I had written on as I read it over again, pondering the futility of it all.

So much had changed in the time that passed. More than I thought it would. But the biggest is the absence of my red-haired friend.

After our high school graduation, Maya eloped with Erick without saying a single word to me in person. A couple of days after she disappeared, she sent me a letter from a post office in Tokyo, informing me to not look for her because she wasn't coming back.

It was just so unlike her. So much so that I read her letter over and over again, comparing it to some other things she had written, to make sure it was her handwriting. It sure was.

I went to Tokyo myself to look for her, and checked with the people at the post office. I needed to drag her back to Hanamura before she did something she regretted, but they didn't remember her. And she was long gone.

So once a year, I write a letter there, in the hopes that perhaps she would return to check if her best friend had written back all this time. But after five years, everything seemed a bit repetitive and useless.

I clicked my tongue with annoyance upon thinking of it again. "Maya... where are you?" I whispered to myself.

I glanced over at the picture frames lined up on my bedside table. One was of me and Genji in our graduation gowns, sticking our tongues out at the camera. 

One was of me winning the biggest ballet competition in Japan, dressed in a beautiful pink dress, my face shimmering with makeup. That was the day I had become a prima ballerina, and one I wouldn't forget.

And then there was one of me and Maya, taken in high school, arms linked around each other, both of us flashing a childish peace sign.

I smiled kind of sadly at the picture, almost as if I was vicariously living though days past again.

Things were different now. I practiced ballet less since I was invited into a government program entitled the WSTP, or wartime strategy training program. It was sanctioned into place after the first Omnic Crisis, and its purpose was to bring up the future strategists of Japan in case there was another war.

I was considered one of the smartest and most capable students in the country, judging by my grades, so I was invited right after high school. The program was intended to last six years, so I was almost done. It was pretty much college, but with ten times more work. 

I'd be promoted to the rank of a strategist for the military once I finished. So that was something my mom was incredibly proud of, since she too worked for the government.

Genji was taking math and science courses at the moment. He didn't exactly know what he wanted to do just yet, but he figured he could just pick after he was done with school.

Both of us were so busy, with a whole lot of new and exciting things. I wanted to tell Maya everything, but she was gone. My eyes flickered back to the picture of the two of us, and then back down at my paper.

And then I signed my name on the outer edge of the letter with mature finality. Life moved on; I had to move on too. And I knew I had a shit ton of work to do.

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