After her visit with Marie at the hospital, Rika found herself walking through the lobby, ready to head home. Lost in her thoughts, she suddenly recognized a familiar face among the sea of people—an old doctor from her past. Rika turned around, her eyes meeting his, and a smile formed on her lips.
The doctor greeted her warmly, his concern evident in his voice. "Are you well?" he inquired. Rika returned the smile and replied, "It's been a long time."
In that moment, memories from the past resurfaced in Rika's mind. She recalled the time when she and Henry had visited the hospital due to a burn on her shoulder caused by scalding water. She also remembered the bittersweet encounter with Henry, their final meeting before he passed away.
Engaged in conversation once again, the doctor expressed his curiosity, saying, "You didn't come back for a follow-up, so I've been wondering about you." Rika realized that it had indeed been a significant length of time since her last visit to the hospital. Meeting the doctor's gaze, she offered a wistful smile and gently replied, "It's fine."
Lowering her gaze, Rika continued, her voice tinged with a mix of acceptance and resignation, "It's fine just the way it is." She sighed deeply, a sense of contentment mingling with the weight of her past experiences. In that moment, Rika recognized that some wounds, both physical and emotional, need not be fixed or healed. They become a part of one's journey, shaping and defining them in their own unique way.
☘
In the laboratory, Carlo sat on the sofa, his head heavy with the disappointment of his recent job interview. Lost in his thoughts, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he instinctively shrugged it away. Edward, undeterred, took a seat beside him and voiced his concern, "Carlo, you still don't have a job?" Carlo averted his gaze, sighing deeply, choosing not to answer Edward's question. He perceived Edward's words as teasing, aggravating his already troubled state of mind.
Edward, however, continued with a hint of amusement, "It was 'winning by losing,' right?" Carlo, growing increasingly annoyed, snapped, "Leave me alone!" Edward laughed at his response, nonchalantly grabbing a magazine to read.
Meanwhile, Arthur, engrossed in his work behind them, chimed in, "Do you want to try that place I mentioned earlier?" Carlo, startled by the unexpected suggestion, exclaimed, "Huh?" Arthur, still focused on his book, explained, "I told you I had an acquaintance who specializes in custom furniture. It may not be the ideal setup you're aiming for, but it's worth considering." Edward, catching on to Arthur's idea, added, "Take the job, Carlo."
Confused, Carlo questioned, "Why?" Edward, lost in thought, mused, "A less-favorable setup in a less-favorable environment... It fits you perfectly!" Carlo's frustration reached its peak, and he lashed out, hitting Edward with his briefcase. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Seeing the tension rise, Arthur interjected, his voice calm and rational, "Just check it out, Carlo. Going for an interview doesn't necessarily mean you want to work there." He picked up a book, adding, "Go take a look." With those words, Carlo found himself contemplating the idea of exploring this opportunity.
In the university's conference room, Honey found herself at the center of attention during a press conference interview. She had been awarded the prestigious Arts and Culture Award for her captivating painting titled "Flower Impact." The artwork, a vibrant composition of reddish tones and vivid hues, depicted an immersive floral world. Sitting in front of a multitude of interviewers and photographers, Honey's unease grew as the room filled with people. Arthur stood behind the photographers, supporting her, while Edward observed the proceedings.
As the school staff initiated the press conference, announcing the start of the interview, Honey's anxiety heightened. She wasn't accustomed to being in the spotlight, surrounded by so many individuals. The staff member declared, "We will now begin the press conference. Anyone with questions, please go ahead."
The first interviewer spoke up, inquiring, "When did you start painting in this style?" Honey, feeling a sense of uncertainty, admitted, "I don't really know." Her artistic journey had been an organic exploration, lacking a specific starting point.
Another interviewer raised their hand and posed a question, "Can you tell us about your dreams for the future?" Honey gazed at the sea of faces before her and responded, her voice gentle, "I want to take my time and paint in the countryside."
The next interviewer took their turn, asking, "Have you started another piece yet?" Honey's reply was honest, "Not yet."
Lastly, an interviewer inquired, "What theme are you planning for your next painting?" Honey contemplated for a moment before confessing, "I haven't decided yet."
As the press conference continued, Edward's attention was caught by Mr. Terabori, who was beckoning to him from outside the window. It had been a while since they last saw each other, so Edward excused himself and stepped outside to engage in a conversation with him.
"Hey, long time no see," Edward greeted him casually. However, Mr. Terabori appeared serious and no longer indulged in Edward's usual antics. He responded with a deep sigh and said, "You're in no position to smile at a press conference for someone else who received an award," his voice carrying a grave tone.
Edward, trying to deflect the seriousness, remarked, "Oh! You're going for a different look, aren't you?!" Mr. Terabori sighed again, folding the magazine he had been holding, and handed it to Edward. He asked, "What's with you not making it into the final round?"
Edward glanced at the magazine, which revealed the results of the 14th Arts and Culture Awards, with Honey being announced as the grand prize winner. Edward's name was noticeably absent from the list.
Expressing a lack of seriousness, Edward shrugged and commented, "I was so confident, too..." Mr. Terabori responded, reminding him, "As I've told you, you need to be aware of the trends within this country when creating your art." Edward retorted, "You've got to be kidding me."
Edward continued, recounting the reactions he received, saying, "They all put up a fuss, saying, 'Oh, it's your best work!' and 'Wow! It's amazing!'" He leaned against the wall, feeling the weight of disappointment. Mr. Terabori sighed once more and, to Edward's surprise, addressed him without using the honorific "Master" as before.
Edward, noticing the change, remarked, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you call me a 'Master' before?" Mr. Terabori interjected, revealing a harsh truth, "Do you know what they're calling you behind your back? The 'loser who ran back home from New York.'" Edward chuckled softly upon hearing this but maintained his composure, stating, "I don't care about things like that."
Mr. Terabori delivered a final message, emphasizing, "You need to get it together. An artist who wins prizes is no one." He dropped the magazine from his hands and walked away. Edward let out a deep sigh, reflecting on the changing nature of people and their perceptions in the art world.
☘
Carlo stood nervously in front of the small yet charming building that housed the furniture shop. His heart raced, and he took several deep breaths to calm his nerves. The shop exuded an inviting atmosphere, with its neatly arranged displays and a sign that read, "Unique Furniture Creations."
After mustering his courage, Carlo stepped inside the furniture shop for his job interview. Nervously, he found himself face to face with the young shop owner, who wore glasses and a blue apron. The shop owner's serious gaze made it difficult for Carlo to maintain eye contact as he read through Carlo's resume. However, after a moment, the shop owner smiled and complimented Carlo, saying, "Your handwriting is nice." Carlo, relieved by the unexpected praise, replied with a grateful "Thank you," feeling some of the tension leave his body.
The shop owner continued the conversation, asking, "So you're from Pleasantville?" Carlo brightened up and responded happily, "Yes, that's right." The shop owner chuckled and replied, "Well, fancy that. I'm from Pokyo." Carlo, unfamiliar with the place, couldn't come up with a suitable reply and asked, "Is that nearby?" The shop owner replied, "Maybe two hours by car."
A momentary silence hung between them as Carlo processed the distance between the two locations. It dawned on him that Pokyo wasn't exactly nearby if it took a two-hour car ride. Trying to maintain the conversation, Carlo simply replied, "Oh, yes..."
At that moment, the shop owner suggested, "Can I get you to help me move something?" Carlo stuttered a reply, "Y-Yes..." He soon found himself assisting the shop owner in carrying and moving heavy cabinets and furniture being delivered to the shop. Carlo handled the furniture with care, displaying determination and hard work in his actions. The shop owner observed Carlo's efforts and grew to appreciate his work ethic and commitment.
As they worked together, the shop owner developed a liking for Carlo and saw potential in having him as part of the shop's team.
☘
In the laboratory, evening had fallen, and Carlo and Arthur found themselves engaged in a conversation about the job interview. Arthur's words took Carlo by surprise as he mentioned, "Manny seems to have taken a liking to you."
Carlo's eyes widened at the unexpected revelation. He hadn't anticipated such a positive response from the shop owner. Arthur continued, stating, "He definitely wants you to come work for him. What do you want to do?" Carlo's mind raced as he weighed his options. He was still undecided, unsure of the path he should take.
After a brief moment of contemplation, Carlo finally broke the silence and addressed Arthur, saying, "Professor?" Arthur turned his attention toward Carlo, awaiting his question. Carlo continued, his voice filled with curiosity, "Is your job something you really wanted to do?"
Arthur let out a deep sigh, his gaze drifting off into the distance. With a nod, he replied, "At first, I had my doubts when my college upperclassman suggested it to me with such passion. But as I immersed myself in the work, I discovered that I grew to love this job."
Carlo listened intently, awe evident in his expression. He began to understand that sometimes passions could evolve and develop over time. Arthur's words resonated deeply within him. Embracing the realization, Carlo responded, "I see..."
Arthur stood up from his chair and walked toward the window, his gaze fixed on the outside world. He spoke with a sense of gratitude and contentment, "I, too, initially only wanted to paint. But finding a job where you can truly pursue your passion is a rare occurrence. Among those who can work in a field they love, even fewer can do exactly what they truly desire."
Returning to his seat, Arthur looked at Carlo with a thoughtful expression. "I'm genuinely glad to have this job," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. Carlo pondered Arthur's words, realizing the significance of finding fulfillment in one's work.
The advice and perspective that Arthur shared settled in Carlo's mind, stirring a newfound sense of clarity. He began to see that the opportunity presented by Manny's offer could be more than just a job—it could be a chance to pursue his passion and find genuine fulfillment.
☘
In the late hours of the night, Max found himself alone in the office of Ford Designs, exhausted and flipping through the pages of a clear book. A deep sigh escaped his lips, reflecting his weariness. Just then, Nathan entered the office, offering words of praise, "Good job today."
Max stood up from his seat and walked over to Nathan, voicing his concern, "There's been no development from Canal yet, right? Do you want me to take over?" Nathan, sitting at his desk and organizing files on his computer, waved off Max's offer, replying, "No, it's fine. I'll handle it."
Expressing worry, Max asked, "Are you okay?" Nathan seemed taken aback by the question, responding curtly, "What do you mean?" Max persisted, "Ever since Ms. Marie was hospitalized, you've been locked up in here working."
Nathan's gaze intensified as he looked at Max, and he replied, "You're too young to worry so much about others. Just focus on your own responsibilities." His words hung heavy in the air, leaving Max feeling perplexed and unsure of his place in the office.
As Max left the office and walked back to the dormitory, a sense of unease settled within him. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was not needed at the office, that his efforts were insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Along the way, he passed by Rikaw's house, remembering the words she had spoken to him, stating that he was no longer needed at her office.
Seeking solace and understanding, Max sought out Carlo in his room at the dormitory. With a heavy heart, Max invited Carlo to have a drink. Pouring alcohol into Carlo's glass, Max noticed Carlo's indecisiveness regarding the job opportunity.
Carlo spoke, voicing his inner turmoil, "What should I do?" Max grabbed a spoon and pondered for a moment before responding, "What do you mean?" Carlo continued, "I'm wondering if it's a good idea to just take this job."
Max, stirring his own glass absentmindedly, interjected, "But he wants you to come work for him, right?" Carlo nodded, acknowledging the fact. However, before Carlo could delve deeper into his concerns, Max interjected again, his voice tinged with emotion, "Among just the people here in this city, it's pretty amazing that you're needed by someone else, don't you think?"
Max's words carried a hint of sadness, revealing his own feelings of inadequacy and longing to be valued. Carlo understood the underlying message behind Max's statement and fell into contemplation, reflecting on the significance of being needed by others.
Silence enveloped the room as Carlo pondered Max's words, acknowledging the weight they held. The complexities of finding purpose and significance in one's work began to unravel before him. Deep in thought, Carlo searched for answers within himself, hoping to find the clarity needed to make his decision.
After their conversation, Max stepped out of the room to have a cigarette. As he made his way down the hallway, he heard Edward's voice calling out to him from the drawing room. Edward exclaimed, "Max! Come here and help me!"
Curious, Max entered the drawing room to find Edward in the midst of decorating, surrounded by various items he had purchased. Perplexed, Max asked, "Huh? What are you doing?" Edward cheerfully responded, "Interior coordinating!"
Max joined Edward in the task of decorating the drawing room, lending a hand where needed. Once they finished, Max settled into a chair, lighting a cigarette. Edward, still organizing chairs, remarked, "All right! If I don't do it, no one will!" Max couldn't help but comment, "But all this junk is yours, right?"
Edward continued arranging the chairs, explaining, "It might be considered junk by everyone else, but I need everything here!" Max questioned further, "Are you ever going to use any of it?" Edward paused momentarily, placing the chairs in their designated spots, and replied, "I don't know, but I'll be in a bind if I need it and don't have it."
Fatigued, Edward let out a deep sigh and moved to the other side of the room to retrieve more items. He changed the subject, seeking to shift the conversation away from the decorations. "So, how's it going with you and that widow?" Edward inquired mischievously.
Max was caught off guard by Edward's knowledge of his situation. He stammered, "Huh? It's not... really..." Edward chuckled and teased, "You're as bad in love as Carlo!" Max, feeling embarrassed, replied curtly, "Leave it alone."
As Edward grabbed a plant, he continued probing, "You haven't seen her at all?" Max took a drag from his cigarette and responded, "No, I haven't." Edward, hands in his pockets, pressed further, "And you're okay with that?"
Max sighed deeply, placing his cigarette in the ashtray. Lost in his thoughts, he confessed, "Of course not. I want to see her so badly that I can't take it." The longing in Max's voice was evident.
After a moment of silence, Edward spoke, understanding the depth of Max's emotions. "But you won't go see her," Edward stated matter-of-factly. Max nodded in agreement, his gaze fixed on the ground. He explained, "Until I can be sure of myself, I've decided not to get close to her. Until I can be the sort of person she needs, I've decided not to see her."
Edward grasped the weight of Max's decision, recognizing his friend's desire to become the best version of himself before pursuing a relationship. They sat in contemplative silence, Max still yearning for Rika but acknowledging that he wasn't yet ready to bridge the gap between them.
Carlo's mind was consumed by thoughts as he lay on the floor of his room, the weight of his decision pressing upon him. Time ticked away relentlessly, each passing second adding to his uncertainty. But then, a resolute determination began to well up within him.
With a sudden surge of resolve, Carlo rose from the floor and reached for his phone resting on the table. He retrieved the calling card from his pocket and dialed the number, his hand trembling ever so slightly. As the phone rang on the other end, Carlo's heart pounded in his chest, his fate hanging in the balance.
The suspenseful silence enveloped the room, and the seconds stretched on. The outcome of his decision remained uncertain, caught in limbo between acceptance and rejection. Carlo's future, both professionally and personally, hung in the balance as he anxiously awaited the answer on the other end of the line.