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“Tsu-ru-hi-me-ha-n!” Kaoruko whines, shaking the lump of blankets with every syllable for emphasis. “Wake up! Crisis!”
Yachiyo peels back the covers, facing her roommate with bleary-eyed morning confusion. “Kaoruko-san, what time is it?”
“Ugh, I can’t believe you haven’t replaced your phone. Just because it was thrown in the sewer doesn’t mean you can’t get another. The current time is…” Kaoruko pretends to look at her watch, a mockery as she doesn’t even peel back her sleeve, “...Time to deal with me and my issues!”
Yachiyo wakes up a little more, certain that whatever Kaoruko has deemed a crisis cannot possibly be one. She props herself up on one elbow, surprised to see Kaoruko in… a suit? “Ok, ok, you’ve got my attention, what is this?” she asks, gesturing to the ensemble.
“I’m broke! My bank transfer from Tokyo had an issue - there was something about confirming my identity and my passport and I don’t even know - but it could take up to three weeks to get it sorted!”
Yachiyo laughs lightly, imagining that Kaoruko would indeed spend all her money anticipating the next transfer. “Why not just… ask a friend, or your parents or whatever?”
“Tsuruhime-han. I am not asking my parents. It’s a matter of pride. And I don’t have friends in New York City! We have to get out of this ourselves!”
Yachiyo wonders how Kaoruko’s problem had suddenly become their problem, but for one- she is amused, and for two- rent is due in less than three weeks. “Sure, Kaoruko-san. Let’s figure it out.”
Yachiyo gets dressed, looking down from the small apartment they shared to the bustle of the city below. Kaoruko is frantically pacing behind her, debating their plan. “Oh my God - do we steal something? No… maybe we should sell something valuable… what do you have… ugh, you don’t even have a phone… Oh gosh… do I have to get a job?”
“Actually, Kaoruko-san, I think you getting a job would be great. That is why you put the suit on, isn’t it?”
For the first time, Kaoruko looks a little uneasy, but she nods. She steels herself, and nods more confidently.
“Good.” Yachiyo smiles, applying makeup and catching Kaoruko’s eye in the mirror. “For now, let’s go get brunch and we can figure out what jobs you should apply to.”
It takes 4 rounds of mimosas for them to find four jobs Kaoruko is at least questionably qualified for, but they order a fifth round just to make sure she’s ready for the interviews. They take a train to midtown, and Yachiyo walks her to the door of the first shop, squeezing the back of her arm before Kaoruko goes inside. “What was that for?” Kaoruko asks, blushing a bit.
“For good luck!” Yachiyo laughs, finding a place to wait. She ends up sitting in a nearby cafe, mostly staring at her peeling manicure, when a woman walks up to her. She recognizes her, vaguely, perhaps from the bar?
“So you don’t even call?” the woman accuses.
Yachiyo can feel her tongue sliding over her teeth as she reaches for a response, somehow feeling like ’another woman - my ex - threw it in the NYC sewer’ isn’t the right answer. But in the pause of her search, the woman’s drink is already being tossed, some pink-tinted milk tea splashed on her shirt.
She stands to leave, rolling her eyes at those in the cafe staring. She waits outside the store where Kaoruko is interviewing, the two of them rejoining after a few minutes.
“What happened to you?” Kaoruko asks, eyeing her.
“Bad date. I should get a phone.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying.”
They walk down the street, Kaoruko stopping at a street vendor to buy an oversized “I <3 NY” T-shirt, which she hands to Yachiyo to cover the growing pink stain on her shirt.
Yachiyo slips it on, wondering if she’s ever felt more like a tourist in the city she’s lived in for more than a year. “Did you get the job?”
Kaoruko shakes her head. “Bank transfer came through halfway through the interview. I thought about trying to see if I could get the job anyways, but then…” she shrugs, trailing off. She slips her arm into Yachiyo’s as they walk along, and Yachiyo feels that the day is shaping up quite nicely after all, aside from the fact that her buzz from brunch is wearing off.
“Sake?”
“Sake.”