An unusually warm January day. Ice melting into slush. Wet streets. Walking with my feet dragging. The sun was telling me it was wrong, coming to French Cup this late. I hadn't come when I was supposed to. There were no pastries ready. No cakes. Despite the warmth, I shivered in my coat. 

The familiar street. The park across it. There were no cats there, almost as if they'd heard or witnessed the explosion, too, and were now scared. My head quickly turned away. Wanting to see a ball of a cat over there. Some small comfort. Dashed away. 

I tugged my coat's collar up near my ears as I entered. The familiar bell chimed cheerily, but there wasn't anything there. Nikki wasn't behind the counter. Of course there were no customers, because no one had opened our shop today. The sign on the door remained in "Closed" position. There wasn't anything to serve. I didn't feel like talking to anyone, either. As if anyone would come, anyway. 

We'd been all over the news. Everyone had to know about it. I didn't blame them if they didn't want to come. There were warnings at the edges of my psyche. If it happened again. Don't come, because it might happen again. Everybody- Trying not to think about it.

Even though it happened yesterday, it was a surreality. An alternate universe. A before and after. Seeing nothing in our showcase. No coffee brewing behind the counter. Our little espresso machine off. It was empty. Like it was abandoned. An abandoned feeling. So lonely.

The kitchen door swung behind me, and the surfaces were clean in here. The people last night had even cleaned in here, though it hadn't been affected much. There was still a smell of burning, though. It wasn't as easy to air out the kitchen. It made me want to run out of here. Why had I come here? Some sense of duty. Maybe. My throat began to close up. Choking, like yesterday. My eyes filled up, overflowing, but I didn't wipe it away. Letting it free flow. Not caring. No one was going to see me. No one would blame me. 

I opened the fridge. There were still so many boxes of food in there. We should have asked those nice people to throw them away, or maybe take them for themselves. Yes, that would have been the best use. Some kind of thank you. But, now they'd go to waste, too. We always made too much, so some of the food would go to waste. It was like any other year, for these boxes... But... 

On the lowest shelf there was something I hadn't forgotten. In a small, yellow Tupperware. It reminded me of a lonely kitten, waiting for its purpose. Waiting to be picked up and enjoyed. I picked up the small container now. Giving it a shake for good measure, what he'd want me to do. It had been in the refrigerator for many hours now. He'd told me they needed to soak for more hours, but had it been too long? Was I too late? Tears flowed again, hugging the little container to my chest. 

His honey cookies. Wanting to rescue them. Something useful I could do. Maybe they'd make him happier, somehow. Or maybe they'd just be a terrible reminder. A brief image of that woman yesterday, her arms angry and red, free of flesh. The news had said she'd received second degree burns, but they couldn't have been. Not from what I'd seen.

Hugging the yellow container. The images of everyone. Ayane limping, holding onto me. How warm she was. Hiran telling her it was just a little further, that we were almost there. Seeing everyone's scared faces every time I led someone new out. Being numb, trying to figure it out. Yuko... Her blank face, like she wasn't seeing the world. 

Holding this yellow container. Her sugar animals. Her smile as she made a cat one. Pulling out the paw from the raw ball, making magic out of a ball of sugar. Pure magic. Feeling like a child. Smiling with her. Her blank face. Her mouth open. Her heart...

I sniffled hard, hugging the container anew. My chin dipping down, sounds coming from me that I didn't recognize. Like a strange laughing, deep gulps of air. It wasn't laughing. It was sobbing. Long, drawn out breaths. Gasping for air, just like yesterday. Mourning it all. Mourning all of them. All of our smiles. 

There was a nothingness there when I thought about Yuko. Wanting to contact her, but it was all selfishness. I'd done enough. Did I deserve to know? It was all my fault. Wanting to know which hospital she'd gone to. But, that wasn't my business. Her family was with her now. They had her. She didn't need me. Look what being my friend had gotten her. She might even already be gone...

I sank down to the floor. Squatting there. Trying to hide. Hiding from all of their stares, but there wasn't anyone. French Cup was mine. I'd convinced Nikki to stay and start it up again with me. All of it had led to this. 

I stayed near the ground for a long time. Eventually sitting down on the floor. The lingering burning smell in my nose. Wishing Nikki would come in. Find me here. Wanting Gyeong-Wan to pop in like always, fifteen to thirty minutes after three o'clock. Wanting to see his smile most of all. The same one he gave me every day, that surprised one. Like he didn't expect me to be here. 

I wish I could go back. Know that the firecrackers were coming. I'd throw myself on it, so nobody else got hurt. French Cup was mine. I'd done this. It wasn't any of their faults. They didn't deserve this. 

I wish I'd never told Nikki that I wanted to keep French Cup going. Maybe, it could still be fixed. If I never flipped our sign over to open ever again. Nobody would ever get hurt. We'd be scattered, harder to target. We'd really all been in one place. So many of us. It had been stupid. 

I'd been so proud of this place. Making it on our own. Successful, happy. Telling my mom about it, how we'd done after our first year. The first year is the hardest for a business. I'd been so happy, telling her. She was unmoved, not proud of me, of course. But, I'd tried my best and it didn't matter if she was proud of me or not. 

I wasn't proud anymore.

The warm winter sun was useless on me as I went blank faced toward the Modern. Hugging the yellow Tupperware to my chest. My normally pristine sneakers were getting very dirty in the slush mixed with dirt and car grime, but I didn't care. No doubt my face was a mess, but it didn't matter. 

The Modern was still shiny and brand new. The brass fixtures, immaculate. The valet grinned at me and gestured toward the revolving door. Last time I'd been here, I'd made a game of that revolving door. So excited about it, because this is where Gyeong-Wan was. Not anymore. It was like any other door. 

Inside, the red carpet with gold edges was luxurious. The large, cascading chandelier above was majestic and sparkling as if they got up there and cleaned it every day. The atrium, like a beating heart, was bustling with guests. I stood in the middle of the carpet, unsure. It was chilly in here, despite the warm sun outside. 

A woman in their uniform came up to me, just like the first time. 

"Delivery?" She asked me kindly. 

"Um. Sort of. Um. No. I'm here to see someone."

"Please visit our front desk. Right over there." She gestured with her whole hand. 

"Um. Thank you."

Brought out of a daze. Going toward that desk, seeing the two young women there. Strange realization, that these two young women hadn't been at French Cup when the explosion happened. None of these people had. Not the valet, not the woman who'd directed me over here. This was a whole world unaffected. Like an aquarium inside a wider, panicking world. 

There wasn't a line, so I stepped up to the desk with my head bowed. Not wanting to look at their smiling faces. They were kind, though. 

"Welcome to the Modern," one of them said cheerfully. She reminded me of the bell above French Cup's door, making me cringe a little. "Checking in? Has the valet taken your bags?"

I shook my head. 

"God, Minami. I need a cigarette. Cover for me, okay?" 

I peered up at this. This was not at all what I'd been expecting. And what I saw...

The woman on the left was smiling at me like a robot doll, but the one on the right looked like she'd been through a storm. Her face was troubled, wiping her forehead with her sleeve. It was familiar to me. Too familiar.

"Tomoko, we have a guest," the one called Minami said, grinning to me, as if inviting me in this little joke.

"God, fuck the guests, alright? I'm going to quit." She swore and then took a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket right here. My eyes widened. This can't have been protocol. 

"My apologies," Minami said, bowing to me deeply. "Were you checking in? I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."

I shook my head quickly. Letting her know. The Tupperware hugged closer to my chest in this. "No, I'm here to see someone named Gyeong-Wan Park. I'm um...I'm his good friend." A twinge inside. That need. Wanting to say we were closer than good friends. Wanting comfort in such a thing. But, we weren't. Seeing his face in my mind. Becoming aware of my own face. My look of devastation. There was no way I could rearrange it. 

"What?" The girl on the left stopped getting a cigarette out of her pack. "Wait..."

"Oh, yes. He'll have to come down to get you. What's your name?" 

"It's um...Kazuya. Kazuya Aikawa. Um...I don't think he knows my last name..."

The girl on the right was already dialing her phone before I finished. She pulled it to her ear, the cord making a squeaking noise. No doubt it was ringing. My shoulders went up, my ears going into the tall collar of my coat. 

As we waited together, the chatter in the hotel was getting to me. All these happy people. Going on with their lives. Talking to each other-

"Were you at French Cup?" Careful words. Slow. 

My eyes snapped up to the girl on the right. Holding the phone to her ear. Staring at me, her own devastated expression. My eyes cast down again. So, she'd heard. She must have seen the news. But, in a couple of seconds that didn't make any sense. 

"Huh, but-" I began. How could she have guessed I was there? She straightened up and began speaking, but on the phone now.

"French Cup?" Minami asked. She was so prim and proper, small. "What's French Cup?"

"Gyeong-Wan. Someone's here in the lobby for you. You need to come down right now."

I shifted my yellow container nervously. Wanting to shove my hands in my pockets. Suddenly too seen. This girl. How did she know? My mouth opened, but I couldn't get any words out. Wanting to hide, just like I had been behind my work table in the kitchen, too exposed. Panic. 

"Um, I'm going to hi- um- I'm going to go sit over there, in the corner. Um, tell him. Okay?" Breathing hard. Trying not to look panicked, but doing a terrible job. 

The girl on the right hung up the phone. He knew I was here now. Wanting to run away. Wanting to see him. Two confused directions. She bowed to me, a little too deeply for a stranger. Uncomfortable. "Okay, sweetie. You do that. We'll be here if you need anything. I mean it, okay?"

Her familiarity. Blush rushed to my cheeks. I dashed away, but I heard her talking to her colleague. Leaving me no uncertainties. "That's Park-san's friend. That situation I was telling you about, with our guests. I feel so terrible. This is why I want to quit. I can't..."

Rushing away, hiding behind a giant potted palm in this white marble alcove away from everybody. Wanting to melt into the wall. Not wanting to be seen.