My eyes linger on the old and unmaintained credit store, causing my memories of struggling to buy necessities with money from my part-time job and hearing of Daizens' for the first time from some of my coworkers to resurface.

  This pce helped me a lot as a freshman. Most of the utensils and cutlery in my pce were bought here. As I stood there reminiscing about those days, I remembered that one of my cleavers broke down st week. Using that as an excuse, I entered through Daizen's bright neon blue sliding doors.

  As I took a few steps inside the store, I noticed that nothing actually changed here. The shelves are still shiny yet crooked, the floor was still marbled to look like the founder Daizen Bell's face, and most importantly, the old man tending the cash register was still the same. He had graying bck hair that was combed in a slick back fashion, wearing a sky blue suit with ducklings and chicks making various expressions.

  'Hey, I remember that suit he used to rotate between it and two other equally weird ones.'

  He took his eyes off the register and stared straight at me for about a minute, then said in an unsure tone

  "Oh, hello there, customer."

  I returned the greeting.

  "I know this may seem like an odd question, but did you shop here st year?"

  "Yes, I did," I said, wondering why he brought this up.

  "Oh, I knew it," he said happily, then continued, "And would your name happen to be Takuto?"

  I froze in shock. 'How did he know my name? I'm pretty sure I never mentioned it to him before.'

  "I remembered your name when you came in here with two other people, friends maybe, and helped me pick up something I dropped."

  'I guess that might have happened, but did I really leave that big of an impression?'

  Confused, I wandered the aisles looking for a knife. Strangely, I didn't find any in the tableware section, so I searched the store for nearly seven minutes until I stumbled on a cleaver in the furniture and gardening section sitting there between shelves of clocks and shovels.

  'Huh, that's weird. Why would it be here? Did someone make a mistake?'

  I peeked at the old man. He's reading a newspaper—no, a fake newspaper—I could tell even from afar because of the giant date on the back that said 11/6/2057 and the presence of nothing other than sketches and abstract art.

  'Well, it doesn't matter where it is as long as I found it.'

  Picking the cleaver up, I notice that it's barely attached to its packaging and missing its sheath, so I head over to the old man, making sure the knife doesn't fall out while walking.

  "Oh, Takuto, are you sure you want THAT knife?" he said as if concerned.

  "Yeah, don't you have any others in the back?"

  "No, we don't. This knife is special; it was a prize for a "scavenger hunt" that was held a long time ago."

  "Really? Am I not allowed to buy it? It seems like it'd cut well."

  "You can if you want." It was evident that he was worried about something, but I didn't bother asking.

  "I want to, but can you give me something to cover it with? I'm afraid I'd hurt someone by accident."

  The old man reached under the counter; the sound of rustling was heard as he pulled out a piece of metal cloth. He wrapped it on the cleaver and said my total was four bucks.

  "Four dolrs? Are you sure, old man? This knife is in perfect condition."

  "Yes, I'm sure this cleaver was supposed to be FREE after all," he said proudly.

  I thanked the old man and headed to the door, only turning around when he said

  "NEXT TIME we meet, call me Rick, okay? Stop with the old man." He ughed so loud I still heard him for a while after leaving the store.

  I take the knife from the pstic bag and remove the cloth Rick used to cover it. Admiring its sharpness and gleam, I touch the blunt side, examining its texture, but I get surprised by its sharpness instead.

  'If the blunt side is this sharp, what is the other one?'

  I look up at the sky; it's a darker shade than before. A weird feeling overcomes me, so I put the cleaver in my left hand and take my phone out.

  "Damn, I'm so te."

  I open my contacts and see that Caleb called me two times, so I call her back. The phone rang two times before she answered with anger in her words.

  "How are you, Takuto?"

  "F-f-fine, how are you?"

  "Good to see that you're fine NOW."

  "sorry, sorry, I'm very sorry. You can stop tutoring me, but..."

  "It's okay," her voice softened. "You probably had something on your mind and went on a walk, right?"

  "Yeah."

  "But that doesn't excuse you from not telling me."

  "I'm sorry."

  "Don't be. I know your personality, your priorities, and your secrets. We've been friends for a long time; I know you," she said with sincerity.

  "Yeah, you do," I said in kind.

  "So I know you thought that I would be busy and that I wouldn't care, same as your parents, but I do." She stopped for a second, breathed in, and continued, "I was worried something happened to you. Why didn't you call me earlier?" The sound of sobbing was faint yet audible over the phone.

  "I did think you'd be busy preparing internship requests or something, but I do know you care. You've always been there for me more than anyone. I'm deeply sorry." my grip tightens around the hilt

  "It's okay," she said as if holding herself back.

  "No, it's not. I'll be there. I don't care if you tutor me or not; I don't like it when you cry."

  "Haha, what with the cringey lines, Takuto. Did you really just say, "I don't like it when you cry"? You're not the male lead of a romance."

  "Hey, shut up. It's not cringe. I take it back. Cry as much as you want. I don't care."

  "Yes, it was, but thank y..."

  "Shit My phone ran out of battery. It doesn't matter; I should go to Caleb fa..."

  I get surprised when a person in a bck hoodie and yellow boots suddenly appears way in front of me.

  As I walk towards him, I'm struck with an intense feeling; a shiver goes down my body, causing my heart to beat faster, much like what happened earlier today.

  However, against my better judgment, I move forward, hoping nothing happens, not long after I thought that the figure draws something out from underneath their hood: a dagger.

  I try to run, but my body doesn't move as if pnted deeply into the ground. I gnce at the cleaver in my hand, then at the person on their way towards me, and steel myself. If they're going to do what I think they'll do, I need to be ready to [ATTACK] or [DEFEND] myself.