Sakura had called him last night. After he had dropped her off. Unfortunately, his phone had died during the concert, and he didn’t know she’d called until this morning. He and the guys were headed to Tokyo in a few minutes, but he just had to see her face-to-face before he left. Someone was going to have to drive this rental car anyway. So he offered to take Yoongi with him while everyone else piled into the van.
He turned towards Yoongi a few minutes later. “We’re going to take a slight detour on our way to Tokyo.”
Yoongi raised his eyebrows a hair. But he didn’t say anything.
“I just need to stop and say goodbye to Sakura. She tried to call me last night, but my phone was dead.”
Yoongi shot him an understanding look. “And you don’t want her to think that you’ve been ignoring her.”
“Exactly. I sent her a text a few minutes ago to make sure she was home. She’s expecting me.”
Yoongi nodded. Hobi maneuvered the car through traffic.
“I think you like this girl,” Yoongi smiled.
Hobi nodded. “I do. And I’m worried about her.”
Yoongi furrowed his brow. “Why?”
Hobi hesitated for the barest of moments. “She’s been cutting herself. And starving herself.”
A sorrowful shadow passed over Yoongi’s countenance. “She must be covering up a lot of pain.”
Hobi nodded. “I’m just not sure how to help her. And I can’t even be a very good friend to her. We live in different countries.”
Yoongi turned his head to look at Hobi. “That doesn’t mean you can’t be a good friend to her, Hope. There’s FaceTime, Skype, texting. You’ve got several ways of communicating with her. If that’s what you’re looking for.”
Hobi nodded. “You’re right. I just wish…I just wish I could be physically near her. You know?”
Yoongi knew.
A few minutes later, Hobi parked the car and jumped out while Yoongi waited for him in his seat. He picked up his phone and began to read something.
Hobi was about to rap on the door when it suddenly swung open.
“Hobi!” Sakura smiled as she greeted him.
She’d been devastated last night for a few moments when he hadn’t picked up his phone. But then as she recalled the tender way that he’d kissed her wounds just a few minutes before, she’d realized that his phone might just be dead. Tossing her new backpack down on her bed a little while later had also convinced her that he really did care. He’d taken the time to get someone to buy her this purse and stock it with things she’d need. He had personally taken time to write her a letter. Twice today. On his busiest of days. She’d pulled the second copy of his letter out of her new purse and hidden it safely at the bottom of one of her drawers. Then she’d floated off to sleep. A dream of Hobi dancing in her head.
Now, Hobi grinned at her. “Hi! I just had to come say goodbye again. Sorry I missed your call last night. I didn’t realize that my phone had died, and I went to dinner with the guys. I was so wiped out when we reached the hotel that I didn’t even look at my phone. I just plugged it in and went to bed.”
He was gazing down at her so earnestly. Hobi was so adorable. She smiled up at him.
“Your life reminds me of a game I play with the guys,” he suddenly spoke again.
“What game?”
“It’s called 26 Pickup Sticks. You throw a bunch of long matchsticks on the table. Then you have to create a picture using them before your opponent picks them all up. Whatever sticks you grab, you can use. Your opponent can’t touch what you have touched. So the goal is to immediately grab as many as you can. But you have to keep them all in your hands. If you drop one or set it down, your opponent can pick it up. And at the same time, your opponent is also trying to pick them all up off the table. Whatever he grabs, you can’t use to create your picture.
“Once the sticks have all been picked up by someone, you begin to create your masterpiece with the ones in your hand. The goal is to have a recognizable picture when you’re done. But oftentimes, there aren’t enough sticks to do it justice. However, sometimes you meet someone who is a master not only at picking up a sufficient number of sticks but also at creating something beautiful from very little. I think, Sakura, that you are going to become a master at creating something beautiful out of the little you’ve been given in life. Beauty from ashes.”
Tears began to flow down her cheeks. That was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever said to her. At a loss for words, she stared at him. And concentrated on breathing. He’d just taken her breath away.
“I’m so glad I met you, Sakura. I just know that you and I are going to be great friends. Please stay in touch.” He grinned ruefully. “And if you don’t hear back from me for a while, just assume my phone died.”
She laughed. Then she sobered. “Thank you, Hobi. You are already a great friend to me.” She gazed up at him for a moment, then she crooked her finger at him.
“What?”
“Come here.”
He bent down closer to her.
She stood up on her tiptoes and planted a small kiss on his cheek. Then she whispered in his ear, “Thank you for everything, Hobi. You are the best of friends. And a true sweetheart of a guy.”
A moment later, he said goodbye and headed for his car. As he opened his door, he turned back to her. “Let me know how it goes. I’m certain you’ll become a master at 26 Pickup Sticks in no time at all!”
