Every day after that got swallowed by Tuesday.
Not because there was nothing to do, there was always too much. The bar needed constant attention. Also, things were piling up at home. Groceries had to be bought, food had to be cooked, and laundry couldn't be ignored forever.
Life went on.
And still, I couldn't believe that some random Tuesday had suddenly started to mean anything to me. It'd been just another day stuck in the middle of the week. Easy to lose track of.
Now, though, it sat in my head as a lighthouse.
That was the only way I could explain it.
I kept moving toward it without really knowing why. Or even if it was real. That was the worst part. You follow the light because it's there, but what if it isn't? What if it's a trick of distance, and if you get closer, it disappears?
That was how Tuesday felt.
I didn't know what it was supposed to be.
Was it just a tour?
Something casual and harmless? Or was it something else entirely?
Something more… a date?
The thought made my chest tighten.
No… I was pretty sure it hadn't been.
But if it was a date, then what should I do? Was I supposed to look a certain way? Bring something? Flowers, maybe?
That sounded insane the second the thought formed.
It would be embarrassing if I was reading everything wrong.
The questions chased each other in circles.
By the time the day finally came, my head was already exhausted.
I stood in my room, staring at the small pile of clothes on my bed. This was everything I owned that could be considered wearable outside the bar.
A couple of T-shirts. One hoodie. A stack of disposable masks. Shorts. Jeans. The same pair of sneakers I wore every day.
That was it.
I'd never been a fashionable guy. I wasn't broke, exactly, but I wasn't anywhere close to comfortable either. I got by. Barely. Thanks to Kazuo and the bar, I was fine. I'd never thought I was missing anything.
Until now…
Looking at that sad little pile, I couldn't figure out what I was supposed to wear.
According to the forecast, it was too warm outside. So, it would be logical to wear shorts.
But was I really supposed to show up in shorts?
Wouldn't I look like a kid?
And what if he showed up in a suit?
The second that image popped into my head, I already felt a little humiliated.
Picture this: him in that expensive suit, perfectly put together, and me standing next to him, barely up to his shoulder, in sneakers and shorts.
It would've looked as if I'd gotten lost somewhere and asked a random stranger to walk me back to my parents.
I groaned and dragged a hand down my face.
This was ridiculous.
I told myself I was overthinking it. That it didn't matter, that whatever this day was going to be, it didn't depend on what I wore.
But I didn't believe that for a second.
I picked up one of the T-shirts, then put it back. Picked up the hoodie. Put that back, too. The pile stayed the same, and so did my indecision.
For the first time in a very, very long while, I actually noticed how limited my life had been. How little there was for me to choose from in the first place.
My days had always followed the same script. Home–bar. Bar–home. Over and over. The occasional errand, rushed as fast as possible, because being out in the open, away from anything familiar, was unbearable.
And yet today… the script had changed.
I kept telling myself it didn't matter, that it was just a walk with a friend. A nice gesture. Nothing more. I'd be fine. I'd survive, even if it turned out embarrassing.
But honestly? I had no clue what I was doing.
No matter how many times I tried to coach myself in my head, I had zero idea how I was supposed to act. What to wear. What to say. What the hell to do.
I swallowed.
All of that terrified me.
I grabbed my phone, and my fingers moved on their own. The screen lit up with Kazuo's name before I fully realized what I was doing.
The second it started ringing, I was overcome with panic.
Why the hell was I calling him?
I hadn't told him about Tuesday. Not about the meeting. Not about Ed. I hadn't said a damn thing. I'd kept it all locked up tight, as if I didn't say it out loud, it couldn't be questioned.
I was scared he'd judge me.
Scared he'd laugh it off, or worse… say something reasonable and grounded that would crack the fragile picture I'd built in my head. I didn't want reality ruining it.
Fuck.
My thumb hovered over the screen, ready to cancel the call, heart hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat.
Then the ringing stopped.
"Hey, Luka," Kazuo's voice came through. "What's up? Didn't expect to hear from you. You got something interesting to share?"
The tension in my chest snapped tight.
"Oh. Uh," I said. "You know. I just—" I stopped myself.
Why was this so hard?
"No, it's nothing," I rushed out, then immediately hated how that sounded. "I mean—maybe it's something. I don't know."
"Luka," Kazuo said, amused. "Just say it."
I hesitated.
He sighed. "I'm actually still working, you know. You're the one with a day off. So, unless this is an emergency—"
"Sorry," I said quickly and took a breath. "Okay. Hypothetically," I said, already hating myself. "If you had to go meet someone, and you weren't sure if it was… a meeting, or maybe something else. Like... You know…"
"Like a date?" Kazuo said immediately.
My heart jumped.
"Not— I mean— maybe? I don't know. Kind of? Not officially?" I swallowed. "I'm saying… what the hell was I supposed to wear?"
There was silence on the line.
Awesome. He must have thought I was talking nonsense.
I stared at the floor, waiting for him to say something.
Finally, he huffed out a breath. "Okay," he said slowly. "First of all, relax."
I exhaled.
"Second," he went on, "you're overthinking the hell out of this."
"Yeah," I muttered. "Perhaps."
He ignored that. "What were you supposed to wear? Wear whatever makes you feel most comfortable. But… check the weather. Don't be stupid about that part."
I frowned. "That's it?"
"That's it," he said. "Unless this is some fancy event with an actual dress code, you being yourself is enough. If someone asked you to meet them, whether it's a meeting or something more, they already know what you look like. They're not expecting you to turn into someone else."
There was a beat.
"And if it is something more," he added with a grin in his voice, "then being comfortable matters more than looking impressive." He laughed softly.
Heat rushed to my face. I could feel it spreading, down my neck, into my chest, all the way to my legs. My ears twitched hard, popping out before I could stop them.
Thank God I was home.
My tail slipped free a second later, flicking irritably against the back of my legs, cramped and uncomfortable inside my pants. I shifted, embarrassed even though no one could see me.
"If you want, I could loan you one of my shirts. A little color wouldn't kill you, you know. Might make you look more alive." He chuckled.
I snorted despite myself. "Your shirts would look like cocktail dresses on me." I shook my head. "No. You're right. I'll… I'll just be myself."
"That's all I'm saying," he replied, more serious now. "And hey. If you need help, you'll call me, yeah?"
"Yeah," I said quietly. "I will."
We hung up a second later.
The room felt too quiet after that.
I lowered the phone and stared at the bed again and at the sad little pile of clothes that somehow carried the entire weight of my identity right now.
Just be yourself.
Yeah… That was the hard part.
After staring at that pathetic little pile for way too long, I finally made a decision.
Jeans and a T-shirt.
What I really wanted was the hoodie. I wanted the weight of it on my shoulders, the hood pulled low, the mask in place. I wanted to disappear. To make sure no one saw me. No one looked too closely.
It'd taken real effort to force my ears back in. They'd slipped out twice already while I was pacing the room, anxiety pulling them free. The thought of that happening out there made my stomach knot.
That would be a disaster.
But it was too hot for a hoodie. Wearing one would've been obvious in the worst way, as if I were hiding something.
Which, yeah. I was.
Still, today felt… different. I didn't want to hide the same way I usually did
This time, I wanted to look different.
I pulled out the only white T-shirt I owned and slipped it on. I stood in front of the mirror for a long moment, staring at my reflection.
If he showed up in one of those fancy suits again, I was going to look like a mess.
There was no time left to rethink it.
I grabbed my bag, shoved my phone into my pocket, and headed out before I could change my mind.
*** *** *** *** ***
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