The past week blurred together into ledgers, contracts, and endless meetings. Rin had never thought she'd be poring over shipping manifests or negotiating supply routes, but her father's decision was final: she would step into the family business, and she would prove herself worthy again.
Every morning began in the office, and every night ended with exhaustion. Yet, somewhere deep inside, Rin felt a strange spark of pride. She could cook, clean, manage, and even hold her ground in front of seasoned executives.
Still… it was suffocating.
On the seventh evening, her phone buzzed.
"Mai?" Rin answered, voice groggy with fatigue.
Her best friend's voice exploded through the speaker. "Finally! You're alive!"
Rin blinked. "I texted you yesterday."
"You texted me 'busy, later.' That's not living, Rin, that's barely surviving. Listen—" Mai's tone shifted into command mode. "Tomorrow, I'm picking you up. No work. No contracts. We're going shopping and hitting the spa. You and me. Girls' day. End of discussion."
Rin rubbed her temple. "Mai, I don't—"
"Nope!" Mai cut in. "I don't want excuses. Ever since you came back, you've been acting like some office drone. When's the last time we hung out? When's the last time you had fun?"
Rin hesitated. "The island?"
"Exactly." Mai sighed dramatically. "And you think I'm going to let my best friend turn into a corporate zombie without dragging her to get a massage? Not happening."
Despite herself, Rin smiled. "You're impossible."
"And you love me," Mai chirped. "So it's settled. I'll be at your house at ten sharp. Wear something comfortable. And Rin?"
"Yes?"
"If you even think about sneaking into the office tomorrow, I will personally burn your files."
Rin laughed for the first time in days. "Fine. I'll go."
The next morning, Mai arrived in a burst of energy, sunglasses perched on her head and a grin wide enough to rival the sun.
"Look at you!" she said as Rin climbed into the passenger seat. "Plain dress, no makeup, hair in a braid. You're hopeless."
"I'm comfortable," Rin muttered.
Mai gasped. "Unacceptable. We're going to fix that. First stop: shopping. And no arguing."
Rin sighed, but her lips curved faintly. "You never change."
"That's why you keep me," Mai winked
Two hours later, Rin found herself buried under a mountain of clothes as Mai flitted through racks like a seasoned warrior.
"Try this one," Mai demanded, tossing a red dress at her. "And this. And ooh, this sweater. And—Rin, don't roll your eyes, I see you."
In the dressing room, Rin groaned at her reflection. "These are ridiculous."
But when she stepped out, Mai whistled. "See? Gorgeous. If Hayate saw you in that dress, he'd choke on his calm businessman act."
Rin flushed scarlet. "Mai!"
Her friend smirked. "What? I'm just saying. A little color won't kill you."
By the time they staggered out of the store with several bags, Rin's cheeks hurt from laughing.
The spa was quiet, serene — the opposite of Rin's week. Warm towels, soothing scents, and the gentle lull of soft music replaced the noise of meetings and contracts.
As they sank into the hot tub, Mai let out a dramatic sigh. "This. This is life."
Rin closed her eyes. "I almost forgot what it feels like to relax."
"Exactly why I kidnapped you," Mai said. Then, after a pause, she peeked at Rin with a sly grin. "So… tell me about him."
Rin's eyes snapped open. "What?"
"Don't play dumb. Hayate. The guy who looks at you like you're the only star in the sky."
Rin groaned, sinking lower into the water. "There's nothing to tell."
"Uh-huh." Mai poked her shoulder. "You spent months stranded with him. You came back cooking, cleaning, gardening — basically a whole new woman. You think I don't notice?"
Rin's chest tightened. Memories flooded back: Hayate's steady voice in the storm, his patience, his quiet strength.
"I…" Her words faltered. "I don't know what to do."
Mai's voice softened. "You don't have to know. But stop pretending there's nothing there. Because it's written all over your face.
After their spa treatments, Mai dragged Rin to a tiny street stand selling ice cream. "For balance," she said cheerfully. "Shopping, spa, junk food. The holy trinity."
They sat on a bench, cones in hand, as the sun dipped low.
"You're different now," Mai said suddenly. "Not just because of him. You've changed. You're stronger. More… grounded."
Rin blinked. "Really?"
Mai nodded firmly. "Yeah. And don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Not your dad, not Miyu, not Hana. You. You're the one who survived, Rin. Don't forget that."
For a moment, Rin couldn't answer. The sweetness of the ice cream mingled with the ache in her chest, and she looked away, whispering softly:
"I still miss him."
Mai didn't tease. She just bumped Rin's shoulder with her own. "Then maybe it's time you stopped running from that too."
By the time Mai dropped her back at the mansion, Rin felt lighter. Her muscles were loose from the spa, her arms ached from shopping bags, and her heart… well, her heart still ached, but differently.
Mai grinned from the driver's seat. "Same time next week?"
Rin laughed. "We'll see."
"Good. And Rin?"
"Yes?"
Mai winked. "Next time, we're buying that red dress. No arguments."
Rin flushed scarlet as Mai drove away, laughter echoing into the night.
Later, standing on her balcony again, Rin gazed at the stars. They were faint against the city glow, nothing like the island sky.
But when she closed her eyes, she could almost hear the waves, almost feel the steady calm of the man who had changed everything.
Her lips parted, whispering into the dark:
"Hayate…"
And though the night held no answer, Rin knew the truth was still waiting — just like he was.