Chapter 15: Coffee, chocolate, and a very depressed man

Dear me. This bumbling fool, depressed?

Impossible.

“Hello. My name is…er, Illyasviel Medvedev,” I speak in a higher pitched tone, to disguise my original voice. The waiter walks by and I order a hot chocolate.

“You look depressed. What’s wrong?”

The waiter serves my hot chocolate.

I wonder what’s wrong.

How very curious.

“Nice name,” I mumble. What a mouthful. “What say I call you Illy instead?

I turn to get my first good look at her. She looks familiar, though I’m not sure where I’ve seen her. And her eyes…her eyes are… are …different.

“I’m sad because I’m supposed to be depressed yet it isn’t raining and no one’s playing sad music,” I continue, my eyes never leaving hers. They’re like deep blue bottomless pits. “My parents are dead, my fortune is gone, my life’s gone down the drain, my girlfriend is dead…other than that, I’m very, very happy, thanks.”

“I can’t stand sarcasm,” I groan. Placing my cheek in my palm, “there has been a murder spree going around…did the murderer kill her? What’s her name?”

“Right. I’m sorry.” I feel like being even more sarcastic, but I’ve never had a vindictive streak in me. I sip my coffee. Brits usually drink tea. I’m an exception. “I don’t know about the murders, but I think it could be the murderer. Her name was Yuki. Yuki Yamashita.”

Yuki. Yukina. Yukina Yamashita.

I bow my head in shame. Although I know that I want to fool around with him, I never knew I’d kill a loved one.

I know the feeling of loss.

It rips you right through into half.

“If you need someone to talk to, call this number. I…I have to leave,” I finish my hot chocolate and depart hastily.