Chapter Text
That couldn't be her, could it?
That distinctive leather jacket and red top… and those dumbass bangs… Seated on the bench right in front of the store.
Maybe she was seeing things.
“Oh, did I forget to get potatoes?” Soyo said to herself as she purposefully looked at a ‘Potatoes Half-off’ poster and U-turned into the store.
The chestnut-haired girl dug around in her grocery bag. She did not, in fact, forget the potatoes.
Soyo closed her eyes. Then opened them again. She let out a deep breath and walked out the store.
The automatic doors let out a gentle hum as they let Soyo pass through.
She blinked.
That's definitely her.
Soyo blinked again and started brisk walking. Umiri was probably not here for her-
“Good afternoon, Nagasaki-san. I’m lucky to have found you here.”
Soyo arched her eyebrows upwards. ‘Me?’ she thought to herself.
“G-good to see you too, Yahata-san.”
Umiri stood up, several shopping bags dangling from her arms, most of them clearly filled with clothing. “I was just out shopping myself, you see.” The black-haired girl motioned to the rest of the bags piled on the bench beside her.
‘There were more?’ Soyo retorted to herself.
“A-ah, that's nice… Do you always shop here?”
Umiri put her hand on her chin. “Hmm, I would not say always. Only when I need to buy groceries.”
She then held up a tiny clear plastic bag containing a few boxes of Calorie Mate.
Soyo did a double take, glancing between the other girl’s pitiful ‘groceries’ and the overwhelming number of shopping bags surrounding her. She could feel imaginary beads of sweat flow on her forehead out of concern.
“I see…” Soyo twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “Me too, although I usually come here on Sundays if I have to.” She wasn’t quite sure why she felt the need to elaborate.
“Oh, I’m aware.” Soyo's ears perked up at Umiri's confusing response.
“I kind of guessed you would be here at this time, so I tried my luck at waiting for you, and there you were.” Umiri continued, with just a hint of satisfaction evident in her voice.
“R-really, now?”
“And I waited because I have a question I’ve been meaning to ask.”
“Wasn't the wait long?” Soyo's faux caring voice started to falter.
“I didn't mind it. I got to watch Hikawa-senpai eating fries.”
“H-Hikawa-senpai..?”
“Hikawa Sayo. Roselia.”
“???” Soyo arched her eyebrows upwards in further bewilderment.
“Anyway, my point is I didn't mind the wait.”
Soyo slowly shifted her foot backwards. “I should get going, Yahata-san…”
“Wait, I haven't asked my question.”
The chestnut-haired girl paused mid-step and turned back, arranging the most pleasant smile she could manage.
Soyo saw Umiri hesitate.
For a moment she simply stood there, her fingers tightening slightly around the handles of her shopping bags. Her gaze met Soyo’s, lingered, then drifted down to the pavement as if she were carefully considering how to phrase something.
Soyo’s smile held in place.
Maybe it was something important she had been meaning to ask for a while now. Something she had waited all this time to bring up.
“Do you use lemon oil or guitar polish?”
“...”
Soyo processed what she just heard, “What?”
“You know, for your bass.”
“I-uh, well, I…” Soyo stuttered.
“Bassists find different kinds of cleaning methods work well for them individually. It helps you connect with your instrument better, or so they say.” Umiri explained matter-of-factly.
Soyo was starting to fume. “Wait, that was your question?!”
Umiri shrugged, “You're a fellow bassist.”
“Oh my god.” Soyo slapped her hand on her forehead.
“I use rubbing alcohol myself.”
“Go home, Yahata-san.”