𝙎𝘾𝘼𝙍𝙍𝙀𝘿 𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙍𝘼𝙂𝙀 - 𝚔𝚒𝚢𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚔𝚞𝚜𝚊

vi. a catalogue of breathing day

Agreement, my ass.

It must be foolish to form a kind of immature agreement like that . . . But I was fine with it. As a worker, it was my responsibility to serve with all my best. Giving my best care was my duty, but giving his care to me was something that I never wanted.

Kiyoomi could order me however and whatever he wanted—still being bound by some restrictions—because I allowed to. And it seemed like I never had to tell him that because he had always been a cold-shoulder. Although hidden, Kiyoomi had a godzilla-sized pride.

It was Saturday, my breathing day. And since Kiyoomi still didn't have a Saturday training, I had to go work on Sunday.

The dawn had come and I was all prepared to go out with my running clothes. Going to school and working after class could weary me mentally, thus I needed to stabilize myself by going out for a road run!

As the sky changes from charcoal to grey, I was expectant to see the magnificent blue as the sun breached the Eastern skies.

I warmed up first, stretching my limbs. And before running, I took a walk. One kilometer would be enough.

And before I could begin, an elder in this neighborhood greeted me.

"Mornin', Yerina-chan!" A sultry olden female voice greeted.

"Oh, good morning, Sato-ba-chan!" I replied, bowing.

The old lady smiled which made me smile back. "You goin' for a run?"

I nodded as yes. "How about you, ba-chan?"

"I'm goin' for a walk," she laughed and her wrinkles emphasized. "You take care, a'ight?"

"Hai! See yah!"

Then I started pacing fast. After a few minutes, I reached my starting point. I set my wristwatch that could indicate the distance, speed, and minutes of my running. I also put my headphones as I listened to music randomly on my playlist.

And, go!

I started running fast, bolting down the sidewalk. I always went at a high pace in the first thirty minutes of running. Twenty seconds would be enough, then twenty seconds for slow pace—just to give me a time to breathe.

I was being greeted by the townspeople as I run into them.

A hello.

A good-morning.

A smile.

I was fortunate that I got to live with these amazing people.

While running, I didn't really get to catch what was I thinking, and only focusing on how I breathed.

Breathe . . .

A single breath means life.

Breathe as to continue living.

They said that a man was formed from the dust of the ground, breathed by the breath of life, and became a living person.

If so, it was amazing to think that everyone took in a different breath, different air, and different exhales.

Life is born, and life also dies.

Living people were too simple-minded, helplessly clinging to life as if that was only mattered.

They run towards life . . . No matter what it took, how long it would be, and how expensive the risk would cost.