Do I Want To Know About My Parents Whereabouts?

As she slowly opened her eyes, a haze of sleep still clung to her consciousness. She recalled, with a mix of confusion and regret, the night before when she had half-sleepily asked him to help her find her parents. Laying there on the couch, she stared up at the ceiling, her expression a blend of uncertainty and turmoil. Heavy thoughts swirled in her mind like a storm. "Do I really want to see them?" she pondered, her heart racing. "What excuses will they come up with for abandoning me? I want to see them so desperately... but why am I starting to regret asking him for help?"

The soft buzz of her phone broke through her contemplation, jolting her from her spiral of thoughts. She glanced down and saw a message from a contact she barely recognized. The name read "Kyosuke Nakamaru." Her eyes widened in surprise. "How did his number even end up in my phone?" she thought, her mind racing with confusion.

After a moment of hesitation, she accidentally tapped on the message, revealing a cheerful text that read, "Good morning, Miss Kaelynnee! I am out running errands.I have a surprise for you." A frown flickered on her face as she typed back, "Why do you have my number? In fact, why do I have yours? We always communicate through the app." She placed the phone down, assuming he was busy and that her text would likely go unnoticed until later.

To her astonishment, only minutes passed before a notification popped up on her screen. A warm smile crept across her face despite her earlier worries. The message from Kyosuke read, "Well, I exchanged our numbers. What if something happens and the app doesn't work? How would we stay in touch?" She tapped her finger thoughtfully against her chin, intrigued by his logic, and replied, "Yeah, that makes sense."

Moments later, his response came through, "I will see you later." Something about his words sparked a flicker of anticipation within her, momentarily overshadowing her swirling doubts.

She stepped into the steaming embrace of the hot shower, the cascading water washing away more than just the remnants of her makeup—it washed away the weight of her worries, if only for a moment. The bathroom filled with steam, creating a sanctuary where she could gather her thoughts in solitude. After a few moments, she emerged, tying a plush robe around her body and slipping into soft slippers to dry her damp feet, a feeling of warmth enveloping her.

As she strolled to her bedroom, the familiar creaks of the floorboards accompanied her. She opened the closet door, only to be met with a breathtaking sight; it seemed to have transformed since the last time she looked. Shock coursed through her as she gazed at the lavish wardrobe filled with vibrant clothes from the latest collections of the most prestigious brands—pieces she had only ever fantasized about wearing. Yet, instead of joy, she felt a pang of disappointment; nothing in the closet felt right. Each outfit was either too fitted, too stiff, or simply over the top. She longed for the comfort of soft sweatpants or a cozy oversized sweater.

He said that he would not be home until later. I think it would be fine if I walk around the apartment like this.

With her stomach growling in protest, she made her way into the hallway. But just as she reached the threshold of the kitchen, the door swung open unexpectedly. In an instant, her robe slipped, revealing far more than she intended. Mortified, she caught sight of her roommate standing in the doorway.

"Please close your eyes!" she shrieked, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson as she dashed frantically down the hallway, her heart racing with embarrassment.

Her back pressed firmly against the door, a wave of embarrassment washed over her as she realized the robe she wore had betrayed her modesty. The soft, cool breeze fluttered through the slightly ajar window, causing the fabric to shift awkwardly and reveal more than she intended to the man who was her temporary host. He was a friend, yet she felt a deep-seated dread at the thought of exposing herself in such an awkward manner.

Just then, a gentle knock interrupted her thoughts. "Miss Kaelynnee," he called softly, his tone steady and calm, "that robe is meant for stepping out of the bathroom, not for casual wear. I must inquire—why didn't you try on any of the clothes I bought for you? It saddens me to see you like this."

She lowered her gaze, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. Her voice, though unintentional, broke slightly as she responded, "It's not that I don't like the clothes—I adore them, truly. But they feel too fancy for my daily life. I grew up in baggy sweatpants, with my parents and my brother, and this lifestyle is just so different from what I'm used to. You come from wealth, while my cards were dealt rather unkindly."

After a heavy silence, another knock echoed through the air. His voice came again, gentle but firm. "Miss Kaelynnee, may I open the door? I believe I've found something for you. It may not be the best choice, but I hope it suits you."

"Please, go ahead," she replied, her curiosity piqued.

As he opened the door, he revealed one of his oversized shirts, a casual yet stylish garment. She quickly closed the door, slipping the shirt over her head. The fabric draped comfortably over her figure, settling mid-thigh. With renewed confidence and a smile lighting up her face, she opened the door once more.

He's so kind...

"Thank you so much," she beamed, embracing him in a warm hug. In this unfamiliar place far from home, it was small gestures like this that made the world feel a little less daunting and much more bearable.

"Miss Kaelynnee," he said with a hint of excitement in his voice as he extended a carefully sealed envelope toward her. "Inside, you'll find information about your parents' whereabouts, complete with photographs, details, and their new address." He chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. "It didn't take my assistant long to gather all this information. I wanted to surprise you, but I didn't expect you to react that way"

"Shut up!" she replied, her tone playful and informal as she gave him a gentle punch on the shoulder, a small smile breaking through her initial tension. Turning her attention to the envelope, which he now placed delicately in her hands, she felt her heart race. The glossy surface of the envelope seemed to glimmer under the light, but despite its allure, she could only stare at it blankly, her thoughts swirling as she processed the weight of its contents

What should I do? Should I open it? What will happen? What if I meet up with mother and father, what should I even say? Do they still love me?.....