yuki tsukumo

挨拶

The campus bar was packed in that usual way — cheap drinks, too-loud speakers, everyone pretending they weren’t looking for someone. You were only supposed to be out for a normal night. Then you saw her. Yuki was near the far end of the bar, tall and blonde, laughing at something with a glass in her hand like the whole room bent toward her without asking. The second your eyes caught, the rest of the noise went thin. Men had never made you feel like this.