LM0053 An Old Friend

Mizuki pushed open the door of the quaint, softly lit coffee shop, her heart fluttering with a cocktail of nerves and anticipation. The moment she entered, the warmth of the space enveloped her like a familiar blanket. The aroma of freshly ground coffee beans and the rich scent of pastries mingled in the air, teasing her senses. The quiet murmur of hushed conversations filled the room, each voice blending into a soft symphony of the everyday. It was a setting both comforting and charged with the kind of possibility that made her pulse race in spite of the years that had passed. Today, she was about to meet Eugene—again. Despite the long stretch of silence between them, and the bitter memories that lingered like old scars, something deep inside her stirred, telling her that this meeting might finally give her the answers she had been searching for.

As she stood there, the weight of her own thoughts pressed on her chest, pulling her back into the past. Her mind wandered to the last time they had crossed paths—at their school graduation. The memory was still fresh, a painful thorn embedded in her heart. She could still feel the awkwardness of that moment, the sharp pang of rejection. She had greeted Eugene with a hopeful smile, hoping that time would have healed whatever rift had grown between them, but instead, Eugene had barely acknowledged her presence. The coldness in her eyes had sent a sharp shock through Mizuki, leaving her reeling. In that moment, she had felt a loneliness so deep, it seemed to consume her from the inside out. Why had Eugene suddenly turned away?

The answer, according to Nancy, was a twisted version of events that Mizuki had been forced to swallow. Nancy's whispers, thick with venom, told her that Eugene had been humiliated by Mizuki's supposed pretense of poverty, and in that humiliation, she had chosen to shun her. It was a version of the story that had plagued Mizuki for years, coloring every thought and every memory with bitterness. She had felt stupid, ashamed—like a fool. She had believed Nancy, and in doing so, she had built a wall around herself, one that kept Eugene out.

For years, Mizuki had carried that weight with her, allowing the anger and sadness to settle like a heavy fog in her heart. She had avoided any chance to reach out, convinced that Eugene's heart had been permanently scarred. But now, with the passing of time, something had shifted within her. The wounds of the past had begun to fade, softened by distance and introspection. And the more she thought about it, the more Mizuki began to question the truth behind Nancy's words. Oh, she's aware now that Nancy had twisted the story to suit her own needs. Perhaps Eugene's silence wasn't born of contempt, but of confusion and hurt.

So, despite the lingering ache in her heart, Mizuki found herself here, standing in this cozy café, ready to face Eugene again. She wasn't sure what to expect, but a part of her—the part that still remembered the warmth of their friendship—hoped to bridge the gap of misunderstanding. To rebuild something that had once meant so much to both of them.

Earlier, when she had first seen Eugene at the bookstore, she had been caught completely off guard. The sight of her had brought a rush of memories—some comforting, some painful—and Mizuki had been unsure how to react. The emotions had bubbled up unexpectedly, and so she had suggested she head to the café first while she paid for her books. It had seemed like the best idea—to give them both space to collect their thoughts before diving into a conversation that could very well tear them apart.

As Mizuki neared the corner table near the window, her eyes immediately found Eugene. She could see her clearly now, sitting with a cup of coffee in front of her, the steam rising lazily into the air. Eugene's expression was guarded, but beneath the cool exterior, Mizuki could detect something more—something vulnerable, a flicker of regret that seemed to echo the same confusion Mizuki had carried for years. Her pulse quickened as she stepped closer, each movement feeling like a step toward both healing and pain. This was the moment she had been dreading and longing for, all at once.

Despite the years, Eugene hadn't changed much. She was still that same chubby, short, and bubbly girl Mizuki remembered from their school days. Eugene's round face was framed by her untamed brown curls, and the warm smile she often wore was now just a little more subdued, but still present. The girl who always made jokes to lighten the mood, the one who had been so easy to be around. Eugene had always been the sunshine to Mizuki's more reserved nature. Even now, as she sat there, there was a quiet charm about her—though a touch of nervousness lingered in her eyes, revealing a side Mizuki hadn't seen before. It struck her then how much she had missed her—how, despite everything, Eugene hadn't really changed. Her warmth, her light-heartedness, all of it still remained.

"Eugene?" Mizuki said softly, her voice tentative. She paused just a moment before taking the seat across from her old friend. The air between them seemed heavy with the weight of unspoken words and memories—some painful, some bittersweet.

Eugene's gaze dropped to her cup, her fingers absently tracing the rim before she slowly lifted her eyes to meet Mizuki's. There was a vulnerability there that hadn't been present before, something that seemed to unravel the years of distance and silence between them. "Mizuki," she said, her voice quiet, as though the name itself was foreign after all the time that had passed.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The gentle hum of conversations, the soft clink of coffee cups, and the distant sound of a jazz tune playing in the background filled the space between them. Mizuki sat there, watching Eugene, her mind racing as memories resurfaced—memories of late-night conversations, shared laughter, and a bond that had once been unbreakable. The school library, their haven, seemed so distant now, a place where Mizuki had poured out her hopes and dreams to Eugene, trusting her implicitly. Eugene had always been the steady one, the friend who had listened without judgment.

But now, here they were, two strangers sitting across from each other, each carrying the burden of their own stories.

It wasn't until Mizuki returned with her coffee that the silence was broken.

"I… I'm glad you came," Eugene said, her voice trembling slightly. "I know things ended badly. I know you must have wondered what went wrong."

"I did," Mizuki replied almost immediately. "I thought I knew why—at least, I thought I knew what happened, from Nancy's version. But I'm not sure what I know is the truth anymore."

Eugene's face crumpled in confusion. "I don't know what she told you, but I hope she and her family didn't make things harder for you because of me."

Mizuki blinked, taken aback by her words. "What? Her family… made things hard for me… because of you?" she repeated slowly, making sure she understood correctly.

Eugene nodded, almost matter-of-factly. "Yes. Didn't her family support you through school?"

Mizuki set her coffee cup down, her mind spinning. It was all beginning to make sense, but she needed to make sure they were on the same page. She paused, gathering her thoughts before speaking.

"I'm not sure we understand the same thing," Mizuki said quietly. "Back then, everything was so… confusing. Nancy told me that you were angry, that I pretended to be something I wasn't. That you felt ashamed to be associated with me."

"No," Eugene interjected quickly, shaking her head. "What pretending? I stopped talking to you because Nancy didn't want her 'pet' to be associated with someone like me. She said she worked hard to make you a 'proper' person, but told me that if I didn't cut ties with you, she'd convince her family to cancel your scholarship."

Mizuki was stunned. She could feel the pieces of the puzzle clicking into place, but it was almost too much to absorb. Trust Nancy to twist everything, to weave lies so intricate that they became truths in their own right. If Mizuki wasn't her victim, she would have admired Nancy's manipulative genius. She could be a better writer than Mizuki herself.

Eugene stopped talking then, her eyes searching Mizuki's face as if waiting for something to click. And when it did, Eugene's confusion faded, replaced by dawning realization.

"It's… not real?" Eugene asked, her voice shaky. Mizuki gave her a sarcastic smile and shook her head. Eugene slumped back in her chair, defeated. "She lied?" she whispered.

Mizuki let out a sigh and nodded. All the anger and hurt Mizuki had held onto for years evaporated in an instant. She now understood everything, and in that moment, it all made sense.

"You… You were protecting me, so you started ignoring me," Mizuki stated, the truth finally coming to light.

Eugene looked almost embarrassed. "I knew how hard it was to manage without financial support for school. I had to work hard. And Mizuki, you weren't a top scholar, so I thought, without Nancy's family's help, it would be impossible for you to stay."

Mizuki nodded, the weight of the revelation settling over her. Back then, there had been two types of scholars: the top scholars, funded by the institution, and the private scholars, backed by families. Those sponsored by families didn't have to work as hard to maintain their grades. They didn't worry as much about their place in the school.

But now, Eugene's eyes strayed to Mizuki's wrist, where the gleam of her Patek Philippe Twenty-4 watch caught the light. Eugene's gaze flickered with recognition, and her eyes widened in horror.

"Mizuki… y-you…" she stammered, her voice faltering. "You weren't a scholar, were you?"

Mizuki smiled softly, finally understanding the shock in Eugene's eyes. "No," she answered. "Eugene, what's my name?"

"Mizuki?"

"No, my full name."

"Mizuki Wolfe."

Eugene's face drained of color. Then, it hit her. She gasped. "Y-You… Netherlands… Wolfe Group…"