Once More
Prologue

"Shit," I curse, and press hard on the accelerator. Once again, I am late. Yes, I promised to revert to my old, punctual ways but seriously – it's not easy anymore. Life is great – but nothing's easy anymore. I take a quick glance in the rear-view mirror and straighten my tie. The first time I wore one of these I thought: Fuck, I hate suits. But now I've gotten accustomed to them.

Back to life. I'm an average kind of person – not special in any sort of special way. I have a job, a best friend, and a house. But I love dating. I can't live without dating. I'm 27, and want to get married by thirty. At the rate I'm going, I doubt that's possible. But no matter. The green arrow flashes, and I make a sharp turn right, not forgetting to blast my horn at the pinprick who just cut my lane. The bastard should die of dengue fever. I curse. Spotting a florist down the street, I jam the brakes by the pavement and clamber out of my car. Kuso… flowers. How could I even forget. My memory is getting from bad to worse. And I swear it's not my job. I smile at the old lady and ask her for the nicest bouquet she can give me.

I place the flowers in the passenger seat and crank the hand-brake. I look back, reverse the car, and almost indent the car behind me. Damn parallel parking. I speed off again, and make a couple of illegal turns. Thank God the traffic cops aren't around. I turn down a narrow road, and follow it to the gates. Cemetery gates. Got that right, I have an appointment here. An important one, at that. The flowers are fragrant. Tiger lilies. Not at all appropriate. But it doesn't matter.

Needless to say, my date is already there. He is dressed in a similar fashion as I, standing motionless before an ebony gravestone. Approaching him with slow treads, I seem to be able to read his thoughts. He has grown predictable. To me, at least. That's my best friend for you. Hinokiko Itto. Fashion designer. Owns a chain of boutiques. Lost his brother; lost his first love. Otori. The one with no family name. Poor kid. I sigh.

"Yo." I smile as he turns around. His face is deadpan – but his eyes are bleeding. I place my flowers beside his. Cigarettes. I need my smokes. I pull a box from my pocket, and offer him one. He refuses. No surprise there.

"Miss him, huh."

I see a tiny smile on his lips. He gazes blankly at Otori's photo. I suppose so. Wouldn't the kid like to know. But he's probably happier now anyway. He doesn't have to put up with the stuff he used to.

Itto shrugs, and turns to leave. It's back to life again. Yuki Kagiri here. Lawyer. Clueless.