"Echoes of him"

August 2nd, 2025

In a British restaurant - 12:07 PM

The afternoon sun filtered through the tall windows of the refined, British-themed restaurant tucked away in the heart of Tokyo. Golden chandeliers sparkled above pristine white tablecloths, while waiters in crisp vests gracefully floated from table to table, presenting meals like works of art. The atmosphere was classy, opulent, yet not overwhelmingly stuffy. Just the way Isabelle liked it.

Isabelle leaned back comfortably in her seat, twirling a fork in one hand while studying Foxxy with an amused glint in her eyes.

Her honey-blonde hair glistened under the chandelier, and her soft smile revealed both curiosity and confidence.

Across from her, Foxxy - ever enigmatic - sat with perfect posture, dressed in a sleek, dark crimson ensemble that contrasted her pale skin and silver piercings. She exuded that same cold glamour that made her one of the most mysterious figures in the entertainment world.

"I told you," Isabelle beamed, gesturing at the plate in front of Foxxy, "Birmingham cuisine isn't just meat and potatoes. Try the faggots and mash, and that black pudding. And don't skip the Brummie bacon cakes. It's all part of the charm."

Foxxy glanced at the rustic-looking plate before her, her perfectly arched brow lifting slightly. She delicately sliced a piece of the pudding and took a bite. Isabelle leaned forward, eager.

"So?" she asked, expectant.

Foxxy dabbed her lips with the napkin and gave a curt nod. "Rich. Hearty. Surprisingly… decent."

Isabelle grinned in triumph, raising her wine glass. "I'll take that as a win. Now you owe me Osaka street food next time. No backing out."

Foxxy smirked faintly. "Deal. You'll be the one trying octopus balls and fermented soybean curry next."

They shared a soft laugh before letting a short silence settle over the table. The clinking of cutlery and murmured conversations around them filled the air.

Then, between a sip of wine and a bite of Brummie cake, Isabelle broke the quiet.

"So… do you have someone special in your life?"

Foxxy's hands paused momentarily. She set her fork down, her gaze cool but not unkind.

"I do," she replied. "Someone special, yes."

Isabelle tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. "Oh? May I ask who?"

Foxxy leaned back, the corners of her lips curling in a half-smile. "Their identity is irrelevant. As is their gender."

"Oh…" Isabelle blinked, her eyes flickering with thought. "You're good at keeping your cards close, aren't you?"

Foxxy met her eyes directly. "I prefer it that way. Privacy is the last luxury."

Isabelle nodded, respecting the boundary. "Fair enough. For me, it's no secret. I'm engaged."

"Is he here with you?" Foxxy asked casually.

Isabelle's smile widened. "She."

Foxxy's eyes flicked up. "Ah. I see."

"As a matter of fact, she'll be arriving here in Tokyo today. She's excited to watch our performance," Isabelle added, taking another bite of her food.

Before Foxxy could respond, Isabelle's phone rang. She lit up with delight.

"Excuse me." She turned in her seat slightly, answering the call. Her voice was light, airy, affectionate. Foxxy didn't eavesdrop intentionally, but the tone of the caller on the other end was distinctly feminine. The giggles, the soft words, the shared breath.

When Isabelle ended the call, she placed her phone gently on the table and looked at Foxxy with a proud smile.

"That was her. She just landed. She'll join us soon."

Foxxy looked intrigued. "So, you're one....liberated woman?"

"That's right" Isabelle said with a nod. "I've only ever been in relationships with women."

Foxxy was silent for a moment, stirring her drink. Then Isabelle's expression shifted - something wistful settling over her bright demeanor.

"But…" she said softly, almost to herself. "There was this guy once."

Foxxy lifted her eyes. "A man?"

"Yeah," Isabelle admitted. "He wasn't supposed to matter. But he did. He didn't just sneak into my heart - he conquered it."

There was a softness in her voice that Foxxy hadn't heard before.

"He made me feel…" Isabelle paused, looking up as if searching for words in the chandelier's light. "Like I was the queen of the world. That I wasn't just a model or a personality - but a person. A woman who deserved to be loved for every single layer of who she was."

Foxxy listened silently, her expression unreadable.

"He made me ease off my attraction to women," Isabelle continued. "He didn't change me. But he made me feel like it didn't matter what gender he was. I just… loved him. I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with him."

Foxxy finally asked, her voice gentler, "What happened?"

Isabelle looked down at her plate. She pushed her food gently with her fork.

"I left him," she whispered. "Because he told me to. He didn't say it directly, but I knew he was pushing me away for my own good. He had this... darkness. This trauma he couldn't shed. And I - I wasn't strong enough to fight for us."

There was a crack in her voice that she quickly hid with a sip of wine.

"I regretted it," she continued. "Every damn day. I should've stayed. Should've helped him heal. But I was too scared."

Foxxy lowered her glass, considering her words. "And now?"

Isabelle smiled, a bittersweet curve. "Now? I don't know where he is. I've never looked. Maybe I'm afraid of what I'll find. Maybe he's moved on. Maybe he's broken beyond repair. Maybe... he hates me."

She exhaled slowly.

"But I hope, somehow, someday - not today, not tomorrow - but one day, we'll see each other again. Somewhere random. Like in a park. Or a rainy bookstore. And I can just... tell him I'm sorry. That I loved him. That I still do, in some strange, ghostly way."

The silence between them was heavier now, filled with shared understanding. Foxxy nodded.

"People like that," Foxxy finally said, "they never really leave us."

Isabelle looked up, her eyes shining. "Yeah. That's the thing about true love, right? It scars and it heals. It lingers."

Foxxy smiled, genuinely this time. "Maybe someday, he'll show up again."

"Maybe," Isabelle echoed, picking up her wine and raising it for a toast. "To the ones we never forget."

Foxxy raised her glass in return. "To the ghosts that still warm us."

They clinked glasses gently, the sound barely audible over the quiet chatter of the restaurant. And for a moment, the past and present danced in silence between them.