Chapter 116: The Cost of Recovery

Chapter 116: Chapter 116: The Cost of Recovery

Recovery was boring.

Nobody talked about that part.

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Failure received attention.

Success received attention.

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Recovery?

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Recovery happened slowly.

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Painfully.

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Without applause.

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Three days after the Osaka interview, Threadless Gate climbed from Rank Fourteen to Rank Thirteen.

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One position.

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One.

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Haruki stared at the update.

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Then closed it.

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Because the number barely mattered.

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The trend mattered.

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The direction mattered.

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The pace did not.

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At least that was what he kept telling himself.

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Whether he believed it remained unclear.

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At nine-thirty, Haruki arrived at Yamashita Publishing carrying revised pages.

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Mizuno looked exhausted.

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Suzune looked exhausted.

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Several junior editors looked exhausted.

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The entire floor looked exhausted.

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The realization hit immediately.

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Deadline week.

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The natural disaster of publishing.

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Phones rang constantly.

People moved quickly.

Coffee consumption reached dangerous levels.

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Nobody had time for mystery investigations.

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Excellent.

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The story needed more of this.

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Haruki handed over the revised manuscript.

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Mizuno flipped through it.

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Page after page.

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Then stopped.

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Not dramatically.

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Professionally.

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She pointed toward one sequence.

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"Why is Miyu angry?"

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Haruki frowned.

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"Because Ren made the wrong decision."

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"Good."

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The infection remained unstoppable.

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Mizuno continued.

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"Keep it."

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A pause.

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"Most creators remove uncomfortable consequences too early."

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The editor turned another page.

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Then another.

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Eventually she nodded.

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Once.

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The editor equivalent of a standing ovation.

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Haruki accepted the victory.

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Small victories counted.

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Especially lately.

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At noon, he attended an editorial planning meeting.

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Not because he wanted to.

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Because Suzune dragged him there.

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Literally.

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Almost literally.

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The room contained five editors and three creators.

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Charts covered the walls.

Release schedules filled whiteboards.

Marketing plans occupied entire sections.

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Organized chaos.

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Real industry chaos.

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The meeting immediately became complicated.

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One creator missed a deadline.

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Another demanded a schedule adjustment.

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A third argued about cover design.

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Nobody behaved professionally.

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Everyone behaved realistically.

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Haruki found it strangely reassuring.

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The industry wasn’t run by perfect people.

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It was run by talented disasters.

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An important distinction.

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Halfway through the meeting, a senior editor slammed a folder onto the table.

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The sound interrupted three separate conversations.

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Impressive.

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Very impressive.

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"We lost another adaptation."

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The room quieted.

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Not dramatically.

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Concernedly.

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The editor continued.

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"Wrong timing. Wrong projections. Wrong market."

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A pause.

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"Six months of work gone."

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Nobody offered easy answers.

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Nobody delivered speeches.

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People simply adjusted plans.

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Moved forward.

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The professionalism impressed Haruki.

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Failure happened.

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Work continued.

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That lesson felt more useful than most system notifications.

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At three o’clock, he met Sora.

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Unfortunately.

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The creator sat inside a small café near the station.

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Already drinking expensive coffee.

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Already looking irritatingly successful.

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Sora smiled.

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The expression immediately lowered Haruki’s mood.

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"Rank Thirteen."

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Haruki sighed.

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"You tracked it."

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"Obviously."

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A pause.

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"You’re becoming boring again."

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The statement arrived without warning.

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Haruki stared.

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"What?"

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Sora leaned forward.

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"You’re acting responsibly."

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A longer pause.

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"It’s terrible."

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The conversation deteriorated quickly after that.

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As expected.

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Eventually Sora became serious.

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A rare event.

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Potentially dangerous.

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The creator placed a magazine on the table.

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Industry Weekly.

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Haruki recognized it immediately.

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The publication carried weight.

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Real weight.

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Sora tapped a page.

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A feature article.

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New Creator Rankings.

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Several names appeared.

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Aoi Fujimura.

Sora Tachibana.

Haruki.

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And another.

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A name he didn’t recognize.

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Hoshino Arata.

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The photograph showed a creator around Haruki’s age.

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Confident smile.

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Relaxed posture.

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Natural charisma.

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The sort of person who probably succeeded in group projects.

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Haruki distrusted him immediately.

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A reasonable reaction.

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Sora noticed.

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Then laughed.

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"You’re going to hate him."

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Wonderful.

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A new rival.

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Exactly what his life needed.

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The article continued.

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Hoshino Arata.

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Fastest-growing creator under twenty-five.

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Exceptional networking ability.

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Strong publisher relationships.

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Audience favorite.

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The profile practically glowed.

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The dangerous part?

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His work was good.

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Not hype.

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Not marketing.

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Good.

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Haruki disliked that even more.

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At six-thirty, he met Yui.

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No dramatic conversation.

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No major emotional confrontation.

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Just dinner.

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Simple dinner.

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The restaurant sat near the community center.

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Small.

Warm.

Busy.

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Life happened around them.

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People laughed.

Orders arrived.

Someone dropped a fork.

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The atmosphere felt normal.

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Comfortably normal.

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Halfway through the meal, Yui looked up.

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Then smiled.

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A real smile.

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Not forced.

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Not worried.

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Just happy.

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The expression caught him off guard.

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"What?"

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Yui shook her head.

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"You look better."

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The answer surprised him.

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Because she wasn’t wrong.

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The rankings still bothered him.

The contracts still worried him.

The consequences still existed.

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But something had changed.

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He wasn’t drowning anymore.

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Just swimming.

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A significant improvement.

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As they left the restaurant, autumn wind drifted through the streets.

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Tokyo felt alive tonight.

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Comfortable.

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For several minutes they walked without speaking.

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Then Yui stopped.

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Reached into her bag.

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And handed him an envelope.

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Haruki frowned.

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"What is this?"

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Yui looked nervous.

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Actually nervous.

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A rare sight.

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"The official Osaka offer."

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Silence.

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The real kind.

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Because suddenly the future wasn’t theoretical anymore.

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It sat inside a paper envelope.

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Waiting.

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Patiently.

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Haruki looked down at it.

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Then back at her.

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Neither spoke.

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Neither rushed.

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The city moved around them.

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Cars.

Lights.

People.

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Life continued.

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As always.

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But for the first time, the choice in front of Yui felt real enough to touch.

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And for the first time, Haruki realized that no matter what happened next...

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Somebody was going to lose something.

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The only question was what.