Wednesday morning - Sora

Sora woke up on time, jumped from her bed with excitement, and rushed into the bathroom. She quickly braided her hair and clipped in two silver star-shaped clasp-pins. After breakfast, she dressed in a long black silk dress, a short red kilt on top of it, and a white shirt with a black tie. Red tights completed the look. Grabbing her bag, she headed out the door. Today, she was determined to be on time, glancing at her watch. After all, the sooner the day starts, the sooner it would end.

As she hurried to the station, a message popped up from her dad. Though their relationship was not bad, she still felt a bit surprised. Curious, she opened it. He had written to share some news: he became a matron of honor at a friend’s wedding, a role he was clearly thrilled about. Sora replied that she wanted a photo of him in a suit.

Her mind drifted, and she remembered their time living together. He said then, that his best friend never would be able to marry someone. And now, here they were. She smiled.

After her mother’s death, their life seemed average. Even when Sora announced she wanted to take her mother’s surname and eventually move to Japan, he was supportive. He was even accepting when she came home with her first serious girlfriend, though she could tell he struggled a bit.

Sora looked at the photo he sent, and grinned. He looked good. His white hair made him look older, but it suited him: he had been blond before, so the transition to white did not make much of a difference. The suit was nice, though the bright purple colour was a bit odd. But weddings are all about questionable fashion choices, especially for the "supporting cast". She texted him back:

"It suits you. The color is funny. Seeing you in a suit makes me think that you should get married too, you know? Or you will die alone, and nobody will care for you on your deathbed!"

He quickly replied, "I thought that's why people have kids?"

"You know I wasn’t made for that, dad."

"Sure you were, it was the whole point! ha-ha"

She chuckled and put her phone away as the train approached her stop. Hopefully, nothing strange will happen today, she thought to herself. However, in a moment she heard her name.

"Sora-chan, hi!"

Sora turned rapidly towards the voice, and woooops — there stood Sota Oshiro. Kind of next to her, but not too close. Expectedly, he looked pristine, wearing a dark suit, and a knitted vest; with sleek hair in a ponytail. Today he had office-siren-type-glasses too. 

What a sexy-looking man, she thought.

"Professor Oshiro!" She gave a polite bow.

"Sora-chan, we’re colleagues, no need to be so formal. How about calling me Sota? It would be more fitting, don’t you think?" He smiled, oh so charmingly.

Sora felt a bit uneasy. They weren’t equals, after all. "Oshiro-san?" she offered, touching the back of her head.

He laughed. "How about Sota-senpai? I insist. I’m telling all the PhD students to be less formal with me, given my age."

Did he just wink? Sora felt flustered. The picture of him surrounded by red roses and anime sparkles emerged, so she had to shake it away. Thankfully, the train doors opened, shifting the focus of their conversation.

"Sora-Sota," he said thoughtfully," following her, "our names are so similar, don’t you think?"

"Mm, yes. Quite," she muttered, trying to maintain a professional distance as they walked together.

"Sora-chan, I read the paper you sent me. It was excellent, however I think some improvements could have been done in their study design."

Her eyes lit up. "Oh, you are fast! Hm, you think so? But I love their work! I just hope I can reach their level one day."

"You are far too modest, Sora-chan."

Something in his tone felt off. His words seemed professional enough, but his gaze lingered too long. She didn’t like it, but felt her cheeks blush still.

"Oh, that reaction is priceless. I adore your modesty!" Another confident smile.

Sora laughed nervously. "Professor Oshiro, you’re embarrassing me. Let’s change the subject?"

"Of course, if you insist. I was going to recommend a book for you, based on the paper. It’s one just finished reading."

"Oh, really? What book?"

He leaned in slightly. "You’re interested? You like to read?"

Before she knew it, they somehow got into another topic without him answering her question.

"Oh, I love reading!" she said, getting caught up in the conversation. "I’m a big fan of post-modernism, and now that I live in Japan, I’ve rediscovered so many authors I never knew before. I love the existential suffering, you know? And all the philosophical struggles. That’s why I adore Osamu Dazai, for instance." Her eyes were all over the place, when she talked. He was observing her closely. 

"Interesting," he said, tilting his head so now it seemed he was showing off his best angle. "I’m fond of Dazai too. No Longer Human is no doubt a masterpiece. I also admire Mishima."

Sora suppressed a grimace. Yack, that’s a red flag if I’ve ever seen one. Well, he is a Japanese man, maybe they see him differently… She, on the other hand, didn’t like Mishima as a person.

"Anyway," Sota continued, "the book I wanted to lend you is non-fiction. Stop by my office when you have a moment, and I’ll give it to you."

They arrived at the building, and Sora bowed again. "I’ll do that, Professor Oshiro. Have a great day."

As she straightened, she noticed his gaze on her.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Oh, nothing, Sora-chan. Just don’t forget: Sota-senpai next time." His voice seemed lower, and he waved his hand, as he walked away. Rose petals appeared almost real all around him, as he walked away.

Sora turned and headed inside. She had to shake her head to get rid of the vision.