Five years, they told me. Five years and we will meet again. They promised, every single one of them. No matter what happened, we would meet again. They said a promise was a promise not meant to be broken.
My name is Anzu Mazaki, and I am a world class dancer. I left Domino five years ago after high school promising to return, and they promised they would be waiting. I lived in New York for those five years, perfecting my art and dream. I somehow managed a line of work in the New York City Ballet and have been dancing there ever since.
They said that we were friends for life and we would never be separated, but I guess these things change. My third year in New York I received an invitation to one of my friends weddings with none other the one and only Mai Valentine. I went for two days, and before I left I reminded them that in another two years we would meet up again.
He was the only one who stayed in touch with me. He called me at least once a day and emailed me once a week, but lately my phone has not rung and my mailbox has remained empty. The last time I talked to him it was for an hour and we has decided that on June 22, we would meet up at a small restaurant in Domino call Chi Chi at seven o'clock. That was a week ago.
I was given a week off to go back to Japan and visit my friends. I was excited as ever to return to the town which I knew so well. My plane ride consisted of me sleeping most of the time; if I wasn't sleeping I was thinking about the friends who would be waiting.
When I arrived at the airport nobody was waiting there, even though they said they would. I gathered my luggage and walked out into the streets of Domino. The town looked the same as I remembered, for the most part, which gave me hope. I checked my watched; it read two o'clock. I needed to find a hotel and then find Chi Chi.
I settled into my hotel and gazed out on my balcony at the sites. I remembered the times I spent here in my hometown; the good, the bad, and the ulgy. I was smiling happily and checked my watch. It read 5:30. Shoot! I needed to get going. Anzu is always punctual and on the mark.
When I arrived at the restaurant, I glanced at my watch. The time was 6:45. I smirked happily. I felt that I looked quite good. My auburn hair was past my shoulders and I wore a strapless black gown. My necklace and earrings matched my cerulean eyes. I felt I had cleaned up well.
I checked with the host to see whether my party had arrived. He asked me the name the party was listed under. I told him, "Mutou."
He stared at me very blank and was about to ask something, but changed his mind. When he looked down at the reservation he did, however, see a "Mutou." He said that there was reservation, but that nobody has come yet. I said that I was early and took a seat at the bar.
I sipped my cocktail and glanced at my watch for the fifteenth time. It read 7:15. Shoot; they were late. I asked the host to wait till 7:30. He agreed and smiled sadly, as though he knew they wouldn't come.
The hands on the clock reached 7:30. Not a single friend came. I am drowning my sorrows in my cocktail... or to be exact, drowning them in three cocktails. I sighed, paid my bill, and left, calling for a taxi cab.
They never showed up! How could they forget? How could he? The reservation was under his name. He made me feel like a fool. I cried silently in the cab and was relieved to arrive at the hotel.
I went up to my room and gazed up at the ceiling, tears streaming down my checks. I was crying nonstop. They promised... They promised! I didn't understand and I didn't know what to think. My cell phone had not rang, and I decided that I might as well go to bed early. As I went to bed I knew what I would do in the morning. Since no one would pick up their phones, I would call the one and only Seto Kaiba. Maybe he would know what happened. He was a genius and he would never give up such a challenge.
Please Review. I thank my beta Tawnykit for dealing with my grammar issues. See the story improved, right?