March 20.
Stepping into Vietnam's capital, Hanoi, Shiro and Yuki were immediately immersed in a city that pulsed with contrast and character. The elegant sweep of French colonial facades mingled effortlessly with sleek, modern buildings. Streets buzzed with life—vendors calling out over sizzling pans, tourists snapping photos, locals weaving through traffic on motorbikes. A soft sheen of afternoon dew clung to the pavement, and even the hum of passing cars seemed to blend harmoniously into the atmosphere.
After a short ride arranged through the Grab app, their cab came to a stop outside the La Palm Hotel. As they stepped out, uniformed attendants greeted them warmly, ushering them into the comfort and cool air of the lobby, a quiet refuge from the city's vibrant energy just beyond the glass doors.
" Chào bác ạ!" The lady behind the countertop greets them in their language. " Welcome to La Palm Hotel, may I ask for your reservation? " She spoke politely in English.
" Chào buổi chiều cô. " Shiro, with the few phrases he studied in the cab ride, responded, much to the lady's appreciation judging by her easygoing smile. " I believe our room is booked under Sakurako? "
Yuki glanced around the lobby in silence, observing the quiet buzz of activity around her. Tourists lounged on cushioned seats—some solo travelers absorbed in their phones or guidebooks, others chatting softly with family members. The air was cool and lightly perfumed, a stark contrast to the humid energy outside.
Her eyes briefly settled on a young family laughing together in the corner, and a thought crossed her mind—school would be starting soon. Just a few more weeks, and the quiet calm of summer break would give way to classrooms and schedules. Maybe that was why so many families were here, squeezing out the last moments of freedom before routine reclaimed them.
She shifted her gaze, her expression clouding slightly. Why had her father been so persistent in sending her on this trip with Shiro? It wasn't like him to push, especially when he knew how little she engaged with the world outside her comfort zone. Was this supposed to be some kind of escape—or a test? The thought lingered, unanswered, as the lady presented a tray.
" Confirmed. May I see your IDs? " The lady asked.
" Of course. " The both of them hand in their ID's and the lady proceeds to have it processed. After completing the check-in process, they were given the key to their two-bedroom apartment. They carried their own luggage to the elevator to which Shiro pressed the button to call it down.
" How're you feeling? " He asked her, and he was met with a neutral pair of amethyst. " You don't feel unwell from the plane ride or the change in climate or anything? "
" I'm fine. " She answered plainly, making Shiro hold back a sigh. " I just don't understand something right now. "
" If it's an easy question, maybe I can answer? "
" Why am I here with you? "
" That's not an easy question. "
The elevator doors open and they step inside. Their room was 604, so they have to go to the sixth floor. Before Shiro could press the button, a man carrying bags gestures at them quickly to hold the doors, Shiro nods and presses the hold button instead, leaving the doors open and the man in relief. A woman and a little girl followed after him–presumably, his family–upon stepping inside they bowed gratefully to Shiro in gesture. " Thank you. "
Shiro nods with a small polite smile in return. " It's no problem. What floor? "
" We're at the sixth. " The woman replied in their stead, and Shiro nodded. " Perfect. We're staying there too."
Closing the doors and pressing the corresponding button, the elevator finally begins to go up. Yuki thought the short ride would be spent in silence, but she felt a tap on her leg that caused her attention to stare at the source: it being a little girl who seemed no older than six years old giving her a toothy smile. " Chị trông thật xinh đẹp! " She said.
Yuki could only respond with a look of confusion, obviously having no idea what the little child just said. The mother chuckles a bit before translating it for her. " She called you beautiful. "
" O-Oh… " Yuki blushes a bit, feeling sheepish now. " Thank you. " For the first time in a while, she forced herself to at least smile back at the little girl. To which the latter took heartfully.
" You two seem to be pretty young. Are you both teenagers? " The man standing asked, breaking the silence on Shiro's side too.
In the span of a few seconds, Shiro quickly debated whether or not to answer that question with complete transparency. There is no reason to lie but telling the truth would just lead to more questions since it isn't common for two 15 year olds to be booking a hotel for themselves– actually, thinking deeper on that aspect it sounds downright suspicious from anyone's perspective. Nobody would mind if he were to just bend the truth a little, right?
" Yes, actually her father is the one taking care of us. I'm just tagging along on their trip since she invited me. " Shiro said, pointing to Yuki.
The girl stared at him, incredulous of how quickly he made such an excuse. Especially when the roles in particular were reversed.
" Ah, that sounds nice. " The man then continues, " Where did you two come from? "
" We're from Japan. " Shiro answered.
" Aw, what a wonderful place you're from. I keep telling my husband about it, saying that we should visit it sometime. " The mother interjected, a flicker of excitement in her expression, while her husband only chuckled.
" Well, if ever that comes around. I suggest going around March when the Cherry Blossoms are approaching full bloom. "
As if on cue, the elevator doors opened and they arrived on their floor. The conversation ends and the family of three bid their goodbyes to Shiro and Yuki before going to the other side of the hallway.
Nice people, Shiro mused to himself, appreciating that the first day of their trip was going quite well.
...…..
The room had two bedrooms situated in the middle, one bathroom, a kitchen area with some dining space, and a TV. It was just the right space for two occupants, and the place was decorated with natural flora that's local to the country. Instead of an extravagant apartment, it almost felt homely with how the room was designed. Honestly, Shiro preferred that over a very modernized and convenient hotel room equipped with high-tech accommodations like that of Japan. It's more natural this way.
" For now, let's just take our time and relax for one or two hours. " Shiro said, unpacking his charger from his bag and finding the outlet. " We'll have dinner at the local square, is that okay with you? "
" You didn't answer my question from earlier, Shiro. "
" Must you be so hung up on the trivial details, Yuki? "
Shiro turned to meet her piercing gaze and a deep frown. " Father must've proposed the idea to you. But why did you say yes? " She spoke intuitively; as if she couldn't fathom that Shiro would agree for a noble reason.
Just when Yuki braced herself for another batch of bullcrap excuses, Shiro surprised her.
" Because who else was going to cover the trip's expenses? " he admitted plainly, without sugarcoating nor deflecting the question.
For once, Yuki was met with his full honesty, without any of his usual sarcasm.
" Your father was desperate. He cares so much about you. That's why you're here with me. " she didn't expect him to continue, but then he goes. " It just so happened that having you around would guarantee him as a benefactor, and if this trip manages to change you or whatnot, then that's good too. "
" So I'm nothing but a walking wallet to you? "
" There's no point in denying it now, is there? "
Her lips pursed at his unflinching answer. She goes over his words, this time she didn't do so in order to see through the lie, but simply to absorb the information he's given her. Whatever doubts she may have had back at the plane that maybe Shiro agreed to bring her along because he cared– she can just leave it there. He only cared about himself in the end, and she isn't too surprised.
"Alright then," Yuki said, her tone cool and decisive. "I'll take your word for it. Makes things a lot simpler now that I understand the situation."
She didn't pause before continuing, each word measured and deliberate. "When the trip ends, I'm going straight back home. After all, even as your so-called 'wallet,' I'm guessing my presence hasn't been necessary—you probably would've preferred to travel alone, right?"
Shiro opened his mouth, unsure of how to respond. "That's—"
"I'll let my father know to keep supporting you financially," she cut in smoothly. "Don't worry, I have no intention of being in your way."
With that, Yuki turned away, settling onto the bed and unlocking her phone with an unreadable calm. Her expression was composed, but the edge in her voice lingered—sharp, unmistakably passive-aggressive. This leaves Shiro to ponder on his own words just now; was saying the bitter truth the right way to go? He wondered.
Well, she doesn't seem too mad about it. She likely already had an idea and just needed to hear me say it, Shiro concluded.
"While you're on your phone, might be a good idea to learn a few Vietnamese phrases," he suggested casually. "Could come in handy, ya know."
Yuki gave a noncommittal hum in response, eyes still glued to her screen. Whether that meant 'sure' or 'not interested' was anyone's guess, but Shiro didn't press. He let it go, choosing not to read too deeply into it.
—---------------------
It was around quarter to six o' clock when they came out of the hotel and into the streets of Hanoi's Old Quarter, pavements of ancient roads that dealt with specific trades like silk and silver. History was embodied in its atmosphere– from the weathered buildings to the local markets selling traditional things to visitors. Additionally, the street was food central, as dozens of stalls lined up along the sidewalk calling for customers to try out their delicious looking dishes.
Interestingly enough, performers were also at play entertaining the people, so the road was packed more than usual. Music blasted from the speakers, and as you go the distance, cultural shows were also held depicting the rich history of how these streets were formed and based for.
" I read about it online how on the weekends, these streets would be extra busy. " Shiro stated, checking the date on his phone. " Looks like we got the full experience. Today is a Saturday. "
He looks back at Yuki, nodding his head. " Stick close; try not to lose me. " Nothing like cracking a small joke to lighten up the mood from earlier, right?
She meets him with an indifferent expression. " Humorous. " she replied.
Well that was a bust, Shiro thought it was still worth a try. " I'm serious though– watch out for snatchers. There's a lot of people. " he warned her, his eyes briefly scanning the crowd, before they went.
The both of them wandered the streets, doing their best to avoid unnecessary bumps from the groups of people walking the same path. Though most would consider busy streets to be a bother, Shiro didn't really think so. He actually thought it was kind of nice—seeing this many people sharing in the almost festive vibe the atmosphere gave off. He could spot foreign tourists like himself having fun, buying souvenirs or trying out the game stalls; families staying close, huddled together just enough to make sure no one got lost in the sea of people. He was tempted to pull out his phone and take a picture of it all, but decided against it—doing that here wasn't the smartest idea. He didn't want to risk it getting snatched. Better to just commit the sight to memory.
They eventually stopped at a small cafeteria by the side of the road and upon entering it they were greeted warmly by the waitresses and cooks. It wasn't a fancy establishment–it reminded Shiro of a ramen store–but it had plenty of people. And as the saying goes: if you want to taste a country's best food, you follow where the locals go.
" Chào anh, chào chị! Please sit here. " The waitress politely beckoned them over to an open table. " You must be hungry. Our food very good, order any! " she encouraged.
They were handed a menu showing all the food items they have. Accompanying pictures at the side of the dish's name was helpful in determining their selection, but Shiro has already read through what was most recommended for tourists to try, so he already knew what to order.
" May I have the Phở Bò? It's the beef soup, right? "
" Yes, our rice noodles very smooth and beef is very tender. Many people like it! "
Shiro nods. " Sounds good, I'll have that then." he pauses, then adds. " And a can of pepsi. "
The waitress notes that down and turns to Yuki. " What about you, Miss? "
" Um, " Yuki seems to have spaced out while reading the menu. Shiro silently judges her for that. " What is popular here? " she quickly asked.
" Our Bún Chả is popular! It's, ah, grilled pork with cold noodles and umami sauce for dipping! "
" I'll have that then…" she said, handing the menu back. " And just bottled water will do, please. "
" Lựa chọn tốt! " ( Good choices! ) After collecting both of their orders, the waitress makes her way behind the counter and repeats the orders through the cooks' window.
" It's pretty nice here, no?" Shiro looks around, taking in the noise of lively chatter amongst people. " Even in a place like this, it's rowdy. But I quite like it. "
" This place reminds me of the ramen stalls back in Tokyo, " he continues, just for the sake of easing the tension again. " The smell of soup and fried food. Minus the noise, that is. "
" I wouldn't know, " Yuki replied flatly, scrolling through her phone as she did. " Never tried. "
Shiro paused, then gave a short sigh. "...Shame."
The silence resumed. Laughter echoed loudly from the table behind them, and the sound of a passing buzz of a scooter engine that went by the open door.
Forget it, Shiro resigned himself at last. Honestly, he shouldn't have expected too much. He can't blame her for not wanting to talk– after all, he did basically admit that he'd only brought her along just to appease her father and take advantage of his financial support. Maybe he should've sprinkled a couple of lies back then, though he wasn't too sure if that would've fooled Yuki who seemed adamant that he had a self-centered reason for all of this. Suggesting otherwise would've just ruined her opinion of him even more.
A few minutes passed. Shiro absentmindedly tapped a rhythm on the plastic table, while Yuki scrolled through her phone with no real focus. He almost wondered if she even had any social media, until the smell of fresh food suddenly drifted into his nose, followed by the cheerful footsteps of someone approaching their table.
" Thức ăn của bạn đã đến rồi! " The waitress set their food on the table, along with the can of Pepsi and a bottle of water."Chúc bạn ăn ngon miệng ạ!" (Wishing you a good meal!)
Shiro gave her a smile, nodding to show thanks. " Cảm ơn bạn vì đã phục vụ." (Thank you for your service.)
The waitress laughed heartily, " Thật là một cậu bé tốt bụng ạ," (What a kind boy~) she shoots them one last smile. " Không có gì, giờ thì mời bạn ăn ngon miệng nhé." (No problem, now please enjoy your meal.) she said before walking off to another table that called her attention, likely new people that have just entered.
Looking down to his steaming bowl of phở bò and inhaled the aroma of fresh herbs, mix of spices, and cinnamon coming from the soup. The rice noodles glistened in its swirl, and the beef did indeed look tender, it invited him warmly to try. They were provided with chopsticks and two pairs of silverware just in case, he picks up the chopsticks and gently swirls the noodles even further into the soup to make sure it absorbs as much of that flavor as it could before clasping it and lifting it gently into his mouth.
The warmth and flavor hit him all at once, the noodles were soft and delectable to swallow, and the juices from the soup were to die for. He tries the beef and it simply melts in his mouth, he couldn't help but release an exhale from his nose, his shoulders relaxing as he comments. " It's good. " he nodded to himself.
" They weren't kidding. "
Yuki curiously leaned over to her dish, she didn't know what it was gonna look like, but it seemed to be matching what the waitress earlier described. There was a steaming bowl of grilled pork cut into tender-looking pieces, a plate of cold noodles, and the umami dip. She stores her phone away and reaches for the chopsticks.
She can feel Shiro's curious gaze aimed at her. Was he waiting for her reaction? Yuki mentally shook her head, choosing instead to focus on the food and ignore his gaze. She sat still for a moment, unsure of where to start, but a quick glance to the table next to her where a person had ordered the same dish as her– she watched as they dipped a portion of the noodles first in the sauce, and then reached for a cut of pork to complete it on top. So that's what she needed to do.
Mimicking their motions, she did the same– dipping the cold noodles which reminded her of cold soba, then placing the cured grilled pork on top, and then ate. The blend of warm and cold hits her tongue, introducing flavors she couldn't have imagined before– cold silky noodles paired with a fresh off-the grill pork caramelized in sauce and that dang umami flavor!
A small smile breaks on her expression, her eyes lighting up just a bit as she takes another bite.
" Is it good? " she hears Shiro ask, his voice breaking her away from the trance. She couldn't help but let her expression relax– maybe it was the food or the vibe of the place…. Or both. But she responds a lot more lightly than she would've shown earlier. " It's delicious. "
She dives back into her food trance, choosing to completely ignore any follow-up questions Shiro would maybe ask her. The boy doesn't though, allowing her to enjoy herself and her food, he was satisfied seeing her genuinely positive for once. Alas, a good type of silence had spawned between them, the clatter of bowls and chatter of people acting as a good ambience.
....
" Next, please. " The convenience store clerk called for the next customer.
Shiro arranged the bags at the side, ushering himself out of the way for the next person to pay. One plastic bag full of bottled water, another bag for snacks ( the local kind ), and lastly another bag that contained their hygiene necessities of which included; toothbrushes, deodorant, toothpaste, soap ( in case the hotel one ran out ), conditioner,… and Yuki's, uh, womanly necessities. He didn't look too closely at that part. He just grabbed what she told him to.
" Were the snacks necessary? " Yuki asked, unprompted for once– is this her attempt at small talk?!
Shiro responds in a beat, seizing the chance. " As someone who has traveled plenty around the country– snacks are a blessing that must always be accounted for. Besides, there are local snacks I wanted to try. You can have some if you want." he said.
She raised a brow. "You sound pretty bold about it... almost like this trip's coming out of your own pocket."
Ouch. That shut him right up.
Looks like the temporary peace between them was gone when the food was finished. Well, it was good while it lasted, Shiro thought.
When they returned to the hotel, they were acknowledged by the staff, and they responded in kind. Upon reaching their shared room, Yuki wordlessly unloaded her necessities from the bag as well as a fresh change of clothes and entered the bathroom.
Meanwhile, Shiro places the bottles of water inside the mini fridge and stores the instant noodle cups in the cupboard. The snacks lay on the counter, and he briefly decided to open a bag–warm roasted cashew nuts– munching on them as he sat on the bed.
He finds the remote, turning the TV on, and settles the channel on some Vietnamese soap opera drama. It was a small way to test his fluency in the language, which wasn't much, but he was still able to process a few complete sentences as long as the characters spoke slowly. And application is always more than simply reading about it.
The faint sound of the shower running drifted from the bathroom, and that's when it really hit Shiro—if it hadn't already dawned on him earlier while buying Yuki's personal necessities—he was sharing a room with a girl. For the entire trip.
He blinked at the realization.
Why hadn't Sakurako-san booked them separate rooms? He hadn't questioned it at the time, too caught up in the logistics of travel and everything else. But now, sitting here munching on cashews while Yuki showered just a few feet away, the awkwardness settled in.
Yuki wasn't just some random traveling companion– she was a woman. And sharing a space like this… wasn't exactly proper.
Just then, right before Shiro could ponder on it deeper, his phone buzzed loudly with Sakurako-san's number plastered on the screen.
Speak of the devil, he thinks.
He picks up the call, and the older man's voice greets him. " Hello, Shiro. Am I alright to assume you and Yuki made it to the hotel safely? "
" Yeah, we're in the room right now. " and she's in the shower, but Shiro doesn't risk sharing that detail.
" No issues with the reservation? The staff? " He asked.
" No, none of that," Shiro quickly dismissed that, then he paused for a moment before adding. " Well, I do have something to ask. "
" What is it? "
" Is there an explanation as to why she and I are sharing the same room? " He lays it out there, plain as can be. As a father, that man should be quite concerned about leaving his daughter with a boy all alone in the same room. Yet to Shiro's surprise, the man's calmness didn't leave.
" Well, since you only gave me a small window of time to set everything up for you there in Vietnam, not many hotels had readily available rooms. You were fortunate enough to even get a room. I'm sure you can understand that, right? " There was a sharp edge from the other side of the line, naturally, any sane adult would be tilted from being done like this by a teenager.
" What is Yuki doing right now? She isn't answering my calls? "
" Her phone's charging, it died earlier so yeah." he tries his best to state his next words as calmly as possible. " And she's in the shower. "
".... I see…"
An even more awkward silence passes– and this had to be the worst one yet for all the wrong reasons. Shiro honestly wouldn't have minded for the older man to yell at him over his spontaneous desires if it meant avoiding this situation. Thankfully enough, Sakurako didn't linger on that too much.
" Is she… doing okay? "
" Err, somewhat." he couldn't exactly label the few moments of her softening up today as progress just yet. " You might have to be more patient. People don't change in a day, " he said.
" I understand. Please watch over her and keep me updated. "
" Will do. " Shiro confirmed.
The call ends without fuss, and Shiro is left to his thoughts again. It was then that he realized the faint sound of the shower had stopped, so he assumed Yuki must be done by now.
He gets up from the bed, storing the half-eaten bag of cashews in the fridge and proceeds to prepare his set of fresh clothes as well. A little while later, Yuki stepped out of the shower, towel pat drying her hair as she walked to her bed wearing the clothes she brought to the bathroom earlier. He wordlessly takes this as his cue to enter the shower and wash himself off all the awkwardness that had transpired today.
.....
March 21
The morning in Vietnam begins gently but steadily, with the faint light of dawn casting a soft, golden hue across the narrow streets. The air is cool and fresh, still carrying traces of the night's dew. As the sun rises, life follows quickly.
The first sounds come from the distant hum of scooters zipping through alleys, a staple of Vietnamese mobility. Honks echo in bursts, not out of aggression, but communication — a familiar city language. Street vendors are already setting up shop, their metal carts clinking and the smell of sizzling oil starting to perfume the air. Even in the early morning, people insist on being busy.
A stream of light goes through the curtain cracks, creating a pathway to a girl's sleeping face. It bothers her, evident by the way she scrunched and frowned, she turned on her back intent to continue her slumber. Unfortunately, after having been interrupted once, the process was difficult to get back to.
" Mm… " she groaned, irritated, her throat dry.
Her eyes slowly peek open, amethyst orbs meeting the other bed, expecting to see another figure resting on it. But there was no one.
Pushing herself upright, she sat at the edge of the bed, stretching until a satisfying pop came from her spine. She blinked, sluggish and dazed, like a frog easing out of hibernation. Her hand groped around for her phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up with the time: 6:25 AM. Far too early for her usual routine.
Just as she picked it up, a slip of white paper came with it — it had been tucked underneath. Curious, she unfolded the note and read the scribbled writing:
Woke up early and went for a jog. Will be back later.
—Shiro
P.S. Add this number into your contacts: XXXX-XXX-XXXXX
A jog, huh. Yuki wondered if Shiro had actually kept up with all that physical training over the years. Then again, it wouldn't be surprising—if he really did spend his time wandering across Japan like he claimed, he'd need at least some stamina to keep up with that kind of lifestyle. A bit of maintenance here and there was the least he could do.
But if Shiro's out on a jog, what should Yuki do? Maybe she should go out on her own too, a walk does sound nice.
Alright, her agenda for the day is decided. But first, she should fix herself up for the morning.
She entered the breakfast hall. Before going for a walk, she knew she had to satisfy her hunger first. Just something filling but light. She scanned the tables, noticing the obvious Vietnamese selection but there were also options for westerners like pancakes, breads, and cereal. While the cereal could fit her criteria for today, she remembered the taste of the meal she had last night, and is curious to try more local dishes of the country instead.
Suddenly, she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder, and she turned her gaze to meet the eyes of the woman from the elevator.
"Good morning," the woman said, warm but measured.
Yuki blinked, surprised, then quickly gathered herself and offered a polite, "Good morning," in return, her tone still waking up.
"Chị!"
Another familiar voice rang out—bright, young, and full of life. Yuki glanced down and spotted the little girl from before, now standing beside her mother.
"Chào buổi sáng!" the girl beamed.
Yuki smiled back, trying to keep her cool. "Good morning to you too—uh, I mean… c-chào buổi… sáng."
The words left her mouth clumsily, and she cringed inwardly at how stiff and awkward it sounded.
She had taken Shiro's advice from last night and spent time looking up basic Vietnamese phrases, even repeating them quietly to herself while getting ready that morning. But saying them out loud to a local—especially a cute, enthusiastic kid—was a whole different kind of pressure.
" Hehe," The little girl laughed, finding Yuki's attempt mildly entertaining. The mother looked at Yuki even more warmly, touched that she'd put in the effort to try and respond in their language. " You did great! Please keep practicing. " she said.
Yuki felt a bit better from that, hearing words of encouragement to soothe her shame. Especially with the older woman looking at her so warmly, almost filial affection. " T-Thank you, I'll do better next time." she murmured back.
The woman smiles before nodding her head slightly.
" My name is Nguyễn Thảo Nhi. But please call me Thao." She introduced herself, and then looked down at her daughter. " And this is my bé Gia Linh. May we know your name? "
Yuki recalled that Nguyễn was their family name, and 'bé' was a term of endearment often used within families.
She nods back, knowing full well that this is their main gesture of respect. " I'm Sakurako Yuki, but please call me Yuki. It's nice to meet you two as well. "
" Yuki… " Thao tested the name, before smiling and then adding. "It's a beautiful name. "
" Chị Yuki! " Little Linh chimed in, adding a sweet term of endearment.
" Thank you, " Yuki replied with a soft smile.
She honestly didn't expect to meet some very warm people here. She couldn't have imagined speaking to strangers and not wanting to just hide away, it's been almost forever since she'd spoken properly to another person besides her father and–though she's not too keen on admitting– Shiro as well.
" Would you mind eating with us? If you're not busy of course. " She asked gently.
Yuki saw no reason to refuse, so she nodded. " I'd love to. I'll just grab my food first. "
They went their separate ways for the moment, and Yuki made a quick sweep of the local food section again before settling on a small bánh mì sandwich and Hanoi's famous egg coffee. Spotting an open table near the window, she caught Ms. Thao's attention with a small wave to signal their spot, then made her way over and took a seat.
While waiting, she lifted the cup of egg coffee for a sip—instantly greeted by its thick, creamy layer and smooth sweetness. The coffee wasn't bitter at all, just rich and perfectly balanced. She blinked, pleasantly surprised. Honestly, if she finished this cup too quickly, she wouldn't mind going back for another.
" I assume it's to your liking? "
Before Yuki could take another sip, Ms. Thao and little Linh proceeded to occupy the seats across from her.
" Yes, it tastes really nice. I wouldn't mind going for more. " Yuki admitted.
" Oh please, don't hold yourself back." She had a twinkle of fondness in her gaze. " Enjoy your stay here and spoil yourself to your heart's content! "
That makes Yuki pause, suddenly beginning to be curious about something.
"You know… your English is really good," she said, curious. "Compared to your husband, you sound a lot more natural when you speak."
Ms. Thao let out a soft laugh, picking up her utensils. "That's probably because I teach English at a high school in our city."
"Oh! That makes so much sense." Yuki nodded, impressed. "You must be a really good teacher. Even your accent barely shows."
Ms. Thao smiled, humbled but clearly pleased. "Thank you, that's sweet of you to say. But I think the same of you—you speak so clearly. I'd guess you're a pretty strong student yourself."
Yuki laughs softly, " Well.. it's one of the easier subjects I've gotten good at. "
"Mẹ ơi, Chị Yuki ơi!!" little Linh suddenly called out, grabbing both their attention with sparkling eyes. "Linh can… speak English too!"
"But just… not too good…" she added sheepishly, though her proud grin said otherwise.
Yuki had to actively restrain herself from pulling the girl into a hug right then and there. The confidence was so precious.
"I see," she replied with a gentle smile. "Then how about this? We practice together—you help me with Vietnamese, and I'll teach you some English… maybe even a little Japanese. And your mom can be our judge. How's that sound?"
"Nghe có vẻ thú vị!" Linh chirped enthusiastically, nodding hard enough to bounce in her seat.
Yuki didn't know exactly what that meant, but with that kind of energy, it was a definite yes.
After spending a warm, comforting hour with the mother and daughter, Yuki finally parted ways and set off on her walk through the winding streets of Hanoi's Old Quarter. Unlike the festive charm of the previous night, the city by day was brimming with motion. The roads were thick with traffic—motorbikes weaving like fish through currents of cars—while vendors lined the sidewalks, calling out to passersby. The air was alive with the sizzling of oil, the sweetness of fried dough, and the syrupy scent of local treats. It all stirred her appetite, but she held herself back. She wasn't looking to indulge—not yet. What she wanted was quiet. Space to think. A moment to herself.
She retraced her mental map until she found the first street that caught her eye. It was lined with narrow, traditional buildings—aged, wooden, and full of character. They looked like they had once been homes, full of stories now hidden behind shuttered windows and faded paint.
Yuki took her time, letting her gaze travel across the details. While much of central Hanoi was touched by French colonial style—wide balconies, wrought iron, pale yellow walls—Mã Mây Street seemed different. Older. Closer to something truly Vietnamese. The tiled roofs, wooden beams, and engraved sign boards felt like remnants of a deeper history.
If she had to guess, the influence leaned more Chinese than French. The architecture had that layered, ornate quality she'd seen in books—buildings built upward, narrow but tall, with inner courtyards and decorative touches that suggested long-standing cultural exchange. It made her think of how different her own country's buildings were—Japanese structures often chose simplicity, blending with nature, while these seemed to celebrate bold expressions.
There was a kind of reverence in the air here, a quiet pride in preservation. Yuki walked slowly, taking it all in, feeling the way history and memory seemed to linger in the very bricks beneath her feet. She laughed quietly to herself, surprised she was really outside and gazing at these things down to their minute detail. It was never something she would've imagined herself doing before.
Perhaps this was why Shiro loved traveling. The small, quiet details—the way each place told its story through architecture, food, language, and the rhythm of daily life. Seeing it now, she could understand the draw. The appeal of stepping into unfamiliar spaces and comparing them to the ones you once called home.
"But he prefers doing it alone, doesn't he?" she muttered to herself, her voice nearly drowned out by the hum of passing motorbikes.
She tightened her grip on the strap of her bag. No matter how beautiful the streets of Hanoi were, or how kind strangers could be, it didn't change her goal. She'd promised herself she'd go home after this. She meant it. This wasn't her journey—it was his. She was only here because it was easier, because someone else was footing the bill. That was all. This was Shiro's adventure, not hers.
But even thinking that made her chest ache.
The pain hadn't faded. In truth, it clung to her like a shadow. That day—the one where everything had unraveled—still felt close, like it had only happened hours ago. It was the last time she had let her heart be completely open, vulnerable, desperate to be seen. And in return, she wasn't enough. Not strong, not stable, not "whole." Just someone broken, still scarred from the place that raised her, and foolishly hopeful that maybe—just maybe—being with him could fix that.
But what good was she to someone chasing something greater?
On her own, she had always felt like a nobody.
And maybe that's why, in the end, he had left her behind. And Shiro would be no different.
While she was stuck in her headspace, Yuki didn't seem to realize that the streets had changed. Gone were the traditional buildings, and replaced with smaller buildings that smelled of alcohol and smoke. Bars. Plenty of them. She must be at the famous Tạ Hiện, more commonly known as ' Beer Street '. She supposes that it lives up to its name from the appearance and smell alone. The buildings were closed since it was still early morning, but she can imagine how hype this place must get during the night.
As Yuki rounded a quieter bend in the street, the buzz of the morning crowd softened behind her. The sounds of sizzling oil and distant mopeds were still there, but more muted now—replaced by the low chatter of a group of men lounging outside a sidewalk café. She noticed them too late.
"Em ơi, xinh quá trời luôn," one of them called out, grinning as he leaned forward, elbows on knees, eyes fixed on her.
She kept walking, pretending not to hear. They were speaking the language far too advanced for her at the moment.
Another stood up slowly, sauntering toward her with false casualness. "Don't be shy, pretty girl. You travel alone?"
Yuki didn't flinch, but she clenched her fists at her sides. She hated this—how easily attention could turn from flattery to threat. Her instincts honed from that place is telling her that this could only get worse if she doesn't get away.
"I'm not interested," she said flatly in English, not stopping.
But the man only grinned wider, encouraged by her voice. "We show you around, make you feel welcome, yeah?"
She picked up her pace.
"Wait," one called. "Where you going? Just talk. You rude, huh?"
Footsteps quickened behind her. One of them started following in earnest now, just close enough to raise every hair on her neck.
"Back off," Yuki said, spinning around.
The man didn't listen. "Why so serious, girl? We just being friendly."
As he said that, two of his friends seemed to have stopped her at the front, leaving her surrounded. Yuki muttered a short curse in her native tongue, expressing her annoyance at this situation. Unfortunately, that only lightened up one of the guys' expression, showing a deeper interest.
" Oh, that Japanese you speaking? How about you teach me some and I teach you some Vietnam, yeah? " He said, coming closer. He reeks of cigarettes.
That's when she realized something crucial– the streets were empty. No cars or motorcycles, and no people. They directed her here on purpose.
If her mood wasn't already sour from her thoughts before– it certainly was sour now.
" Thank you for the kind offer…. But… " she feigned a polite smile. " I really am not interested. Would you mind if I pass? "
" Your voice really is pretty, " he ignored her, enticed even further. " Please, come with us, we have fun together! "
A step closer. Her fist clenches.
Something in her snapped.
Her polite expression fell away. Her stance shifted.
She brought her right foot half a step back—centered her weight. Her hand rose slowly, fingers tightening into a fist. Her eyes locked on the man's nose.
If she hit him square there, it would buy her a second. Two, maybe. Enough to break past the one on her left.
Her heart beat steady. Her breath is quiet.
She inhaled.
Ready.
And then—
A shout.
"Ê mấy thằng kia! Muốn chết à?!"