“He came back?” Yuko whispered breathlessly. Her aunt must have mistaken him for another man - there’s no way Alfred could have been in an attire as spick and span as her aunt had just described him. “But, how? With new clothes-”
“Believe me, dear, it’s most definitely him. He even remembers your name.” Nasuko circled Yuko’s bed and loomed over her from behind her dressing table.
Yuko’s hands paused their swift movements about her head, one remaining pin sliding around a stray bit of hair. “‘Even?’ What’s that supposed to mean?”
Nasuko rolled her eyes and gave a knowing nod in return. “Don’t make me say any more.”
Yuko rose from her chair, straightening her gauzy silk dress. Her hands were shaking with anticipation. “If you think so little of him, I have to ask why you even allowed him inside. You could have sent him away and I would have never known.”
“And have him sneaking around until he can get a glimpse of you? He’s just the type to do so.” Nasuko crossed her arms and scoffed. “No, I’m going to have you nip this in the bud yourself. Once and for all. Come.” Before she could motion for Yuko to follow her down the stairs, the younger woman had already pushed past her in an impatient flurry.
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He came. He actually came.
“He’s an idiot.” Yuko murmured through laughter and tears.
No man had ever made such an effort for her. The return of one measly earring, one single pearl was all it took for this strange fool to risk it all for her. Perhaps he didn’t even consider the possibility of her aunt calling the police, or complaining to the construction foreman to get him fired - but Yuko had. Yuko had mulled over every single worst scenario this poor man could suffer, and in countless midnight flurries of selfish emotional highs, dream after dream of failed matchmakings and arrogant men, Yuko prayed Alfred would take her bait.
Am I selfish? Am I wicked? She wondered to herself as she trounced over the final stair.
Aunt Nasuko’s instructions flew in one ear and out the other - there was no chance, no smidgen of a possibility that Yuko would send Alfred away.
And upon entering the sitting room, once again face to face with her savior, her ticket out, she stood firm with a hand clutched to her heart.
She would not, could not find it in her conscience to let him go.
Perhaps I am.