CHAPTER 197: TUESDAY DEPARTURE

The alarm went off at six. Nina was already awake, staring at the ceiling.

"You didn’t sleep."

"Not much."

They dressed quickly and drove to Jake and Ruby’s dorm. Jake was waiting outside with coffee in a thermos.

"Ruby’s still getting ready."

"We have time."

Ruby emerged five minutes later carrying a wrapped package.

"I stayed up making this."

"She said no presents."

"She says a lot of things she doesn’t mean."

They drove to Yuna’s apartment. She was waiting outside with two suitcases and a carry-on bag. Everything she owned condensed to airline baggage limits.

"This is too many people for one car."

"Jake’s car is following us."

"You made a convoy?"

"It’s not a convoy. It’s two cars going to the same place."

They loaded her luggage. Yuna sat in the back with Ruby. Nobody talked much during the drive. The radio played news about traffic and weather.

The airport was busy even at seven in the morning. Business travelers with their efficient movements, families struggling with children and bags.

They found the international departures area. The security line was already long.

"You should get in line."

"I have time."

But she picked up her carry-on anyway. Ruby handed her the wrapped package.

"Open it later. On the plane maybe."

"You didn’t have to—"

"I wanted to."

Jake stepped forward. "I wrote you that reference letter. It’s in Japanese. Well, Google Translate Japanese, so probably terrible."

He handed her an envelope. Yuna took it without reading it.

Nina was next. "Stay in touch. I mean it. I want to hear about your training, your life there, everything."

"I’ll try."

"Try harder than that."

Finally Kofi. They looked at each other. Sparring partners, teammates, friends.

"Take care of the team."

"I will."

"And keep improving. When I come back, I want a real challenge."

"You’ll get one."

The security line was moving. Yuna needed to go.

"Okay. I’m leaving now."

She picked up her bags and walked toward the line. They watched her show her passport and boarding pass to the agent. She didn’t look back.

"That was anticlimactic."

"What did you expect?"

"More emotion. Tears maybe."

"That’s not Yuna."

They waited until she disappeared into the security area. Then they stood there a little longer, as if she might come back.

"We should go."

The drive back was quieter. Ruby was looking at her phone, scrolling through photos from the past year. Jake drove carefully, both hands on the wheel.

"I’m hungry. We should get breakfast."

They stopped at a diner near campus. Pancakes and eggs and too much coffee.

"It’s weird. She’s gone but everything else is exactly the same."

"That’s how leaving works. The world doesn’t stop."

"It should though. Just for a minute."

After breakfast, they had classes. Life resuming its rhythm immediately. Kofi had his history seminar. Nina had her journalism workshop. Jake and Ruby had their respective courses.

But at lunch, their usual table felt wrong. Five chairs, four people.

"We could invite others to join us."

"Like who?"

"David from kendo. Kevin from the paper."

"It wouldn’t be the same."

"No. But it might be something new."

That afternoon, Kofi held his first team practice without Yuna’s presence. The team noticed immediately.

"Where’s Yuna?"

"She left for Japan this morning."

"For how long?"

"At least a year."

The energy in practice shifted. Without Yuna’s intensity pushing them, some members slacked off. Kofi had to be more assertive.

"Just because Yuna’s gone doesn’t mean standards drop. Run the drill again."

"You sound like her."

"Good. Someone needs to."

After practice, David approached him.

"Is it weird? Being in charge without her here?"

"Everything about this is weird."

"But you’re handling it."

"Am I? Feels like I’m just pretending to know what I’m doing."

"That’s what leadership is. Pretending until it becomes real."

Maybe David was right. Maybe everyone was just pretending to be competent.

That evening, Kofi found Nina in the campus newspaper office. She was editing an article, red pen marking up someone’s work.

"You’re harsh."

"I’m thorough. There’s a difference."

"The freshman who wrote this might not see the difference."

"They’ll learn. Or they’ll quit. Either way, the paper improves."

They walked home together. The campus was busy with students enjoying the warm evening.

"Have you heard from Yuna?"

"She’s probably still on the plane."

"Right. Time zones are confusing."

At home, they made dinner together. Pasta with sauce from a jar, nothing fancy.

"We should talk about your fellowship decision."

"What about it?"

"Are you really okay with turning it down?"

Nina put down her fork. "I’ve been thinking about what I want my life to look like. Not my career, my actual life. The fellowship would have been thirteen-hour days, constant competition, no time for relationships or hobbies."

"Some people want that."

"I thought I did. But watching our friends, building this community, fighting for things that matter locally, that feels more important than bylines in national papers."

"Your parents will be disappointed."

"They’ll survive. They wanted me to be successful. I’m just defining success differently."

After dinner, they sat on the couch reading. Kofi had a history assignment. Nina was reviewing submissions for the paper.

Her phone buzzed. "Yuna landed. She says Tokyo is overwhelming."

"That’s more communication than I expected."

"She sent a photo too."

The photo showed Yuna at the airport, looking tired but determined. Behind her, signs in Japanese pointed to various exits.

"She looks small with all those bags."

"She looks ready."

They went to bed early, tired from the emotional weight of the day.

"Do you think we’ll all stay friends? Long-term?"

"I don’t know. People drift apart. It’s natural."

"That’s depressing."

"Or realistic. We can’t control what happens years from now. We can only maintain the friendships we have today."

"When did you become so practical?"

"When you started needing practicality."

Wednesday morning brought a return to routine. No airports, no goodbyes, just normal college life.

Kofi had office hours for the freshman he was tutoring in history. The kid was struggling with essay structure.

"I don’t understand how to make an argument."

"Start with what you believe. Then find evidence to support it."

"But what if I don’t believe anything about the topic?"

"Then find something you can believe. Even boring topics have interesting angles."

"Like what?"

"This essay about trade routes. You think it’s boring economics. But it’s really about human connection, how societies reach out to each other despite distance and danger."

"That’s not what the assignment says."

"The assignment says to analyze trade routes. Analysis requires perspective. Give it yours."

The freshman left looking thoughtful. Maybe he’d write something interesting. Maybe not.

At lunch, their table had adjusted to four people. The empty chair had been removed.

"I got an email from the fellowship program. They want to know why I declined."

"What did you tell them?"

"The truth. That I found something better here."

"They probably think you’re crazy."

"Maybe I am."

After lunch, Nina had a meeting with the campus paper’s faculty advisor about applying for the editor position.

"You’re qualified, but it’s a significant time commitment."

"I understand."

"The current editor works sixty hours a week during production periods."

"Kevin also sleeps in the office and survives on energy drinks."

"That’s not sustainable."

"No. I’d run things differently."

"How?"

"Better delegation. More structured training for new writers. Clearer workflows."

"You’ve thought about this."

"I’ve been thinking about it since I turned down the fellowship."

The advisor looked at her carefully. "The application deadline is Friday. We’ll interview next week."

Nina left feeling optimistic. The editor position wasn’t guaranteed, but she had a strong chance.

That evening, she told Kofi about the meeting.

"Editor of the campus paper. That’s a big deal."

"It’s a medium deal."

"You’d be running an entire publication."

"A small publication with limited resources and constant drama."

"Sounds perfect for you."

"It kind of does."

They made dinner again. Chicken this time, slightly overcooked but edible.

"We need to get better at cooking."

"Or lower our standards."

"That’s not a solution."

"It’s a practical adaptation."

After dinner, Jake called. "Ruby’s sick. Some kind of flu."

"Is she okay?"

"She’s miserable but not dying. Can you get her notes from tomorrow’s classes?"

"Of course."

"Also, she wanted me to tell you that Yuna sent another message. She’s at the training facility. Says it’s intimidating but exciting."

"That’s three communications in two days. More than expected."

"Maybe she misses us."

"Or she’s nervous and needs connection."

"Same thing really."

They talked for a few more minutes about Ruby’s condition and tomorrow’s plans.

After the call, Kofi and Nina sat together on the couch.

"Our group is really changing."

"Groups always change. That’s what makes them interesting."

"Or stressful."

"That too."

They tried to watch a movie but neither could focus. Their minds were elsewhere, processing all the transitions.

"We should go to bed."

"It’s only nine-thirty."

"I’m tired anyway."

They got ready for bed. The apartment was quiet except for the hum of the refrigerator and distant music from another unit.

"Kofi?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you happy with how things are?"

He thought about it. "I’m happy with us. The rest is just life happening."

"That’s a good answer."

"I have moments."

They fell asleep easier than expected. Tomorrow would bring its own challenges and changes, but that was tomorrow’s problem.

For now, they were together in their small apartment, building a life one ordinary day at a time.