"Today's the daaaay!" I thought to myself. I adjusted my tie in the mirror. Satisfied, I drew my hand into the front pockets of my pants and pulled out a small box. Red velvet, just like it should be. I practiced palming it a few times before slipping it back into its hiding place.

"You done yet?" she called out impatiently, "I've been waiting for a while now."
"Just a second!" I called back.

After looking myself down, I left the bathroom of our hotel room. A simple button-down shirt with slacks and dress shoes can't go wrong, right?

And there she was, in a beautifully simple dress. It was rather modest without much lace, just the way she liked it. I couldn't blame her, it fits her quite well.

"Well, then," she remarked, "shall we be off?"
"Yes, dear."
"Quit it with that."
"Aw, c'mon."

As we took the elevator down to the ground floor, we discussed what we were to have for dinner. After some brief and spirited discussion, we agreed to seafood.

We exited the hotel and started walking towards the nearest seafood establishment. Our heels clacked against the hard cobbles that made the boardwalk. The city was full of them because canals crisscross the city, and they are a necessity to getting around by foot.

She was managing directions, so I took the moment to look around. The sun was setting, casting a warm, red hue behind a grand bridge spanning a quiet canal. It was one of the few standing structures that survived bombing runs of the city so many decades ago. The buildings around it were continuous, without a gap, and entirely brick and mortar. They all gave off an ancient, yet frugal, essence.

I turned my attention to... her. She was stunning, as she always was. The long shadows cast by the falling sun only grew her luxorious figure for the eyes to see. There was one thing about her that always stuck with me, though.
"Hey, Octo-sausage hair, are we close yet?"
She stops mid-step. "What was that?"
"Are we close yet?"
"Yes, but what did you say first?"
"Um, nothing."
"Octo-sausage, hm?"
I wave it off, and she just sighs and shakes her head. As she turns away, though, I spot a slight smirk forming on her face.

After a short walk, we finally arrive at the restaurant. It has developed an excellent reputation over the years, it turns out. No better place for this to be.

Our waiter gracefully leads us to our table, and hands us our menus. It doesn't take long for her to become torn between two entrées.
"Ugh, what should I eat? The platter seems like a bit much, but the pasta appears underwhelming... whatdo you think?"
After she lowers the menu to look at me, I respond, "Whatever is fine, as long as you're happy."

With a huff, she raises the menu again. Not before I see her blush, though. Oh, how youthful she still is.
"I do think you would like the pasta, though. I encourage you to give it a try."

With that, she sets the menu down on the table. I had already made my mind way earlier, so I stared into her brilliant eyes before she looked aside to the glimmering canal. It was still catching the fading rays of the setting sun, giving the entire area an unnatural sheen.

Our waiter returned to take our order and serve us our beverages. Iced water, as it were.

After he left, I noticed her in deep thought and carefully spoke up.
"What is it that you could be thinking about this time? Is it her?"
"Hnn...? Of course, who else would I think about?"

The two of them were always together. Her black braids and bangs were in lock step with her brown, octopus sausage hair. They ate together, wore the same outfit to work, and even shared a room together. They were crazy for each other.
As fate would have it, they were separated. I would not see the black-braided girl again until a fateful night on a pier. Even then, I would not see her again.

Much like her, octopus hair had so many painful memories, and I shared them with her. But what I had to do was move on. I hope that what I could do next would at least patch that hole in my heart.

Apparently, my less-than-cheerful thoughts translated to a sulking expression. "Hey, are you okay?" she askes.
The food promptly arrives, and the server wishes us a good meal. "Here," she says, "eat up. Cheer up, will you?"

The food did certainly help, but it didn't lessen the gravity of the situation one bit. Perhaps I was cruising towards certain defeat, as Nishimura had at Surigao. I could not bear to repeat my ancestor's mistakes.

For my next words, I meticulously selected my words, hoping that I would not make a single mistake.
"Hon, do you see all the way down there, that bridge over the canal?"
She turns around and nods. It was teeming with tourists, even at this hour. "Yes, why?"
"It is said that over a century ago, when this nation fought a great war, the surrounding city was bombed to rubble, but that bridge remained."
I fished in my pockets for the velvet box, and palmed it just as I had rehearsed. She turned back around to face me. I left my seat, stood by her side, and started to kneel.
"There's something that I want to stand the test of time for as long as we are alive.

"That is why, please..."

---

Late publish because I didn't want to finish this. Somebody wanted a sequel, so here it is.
I'll bet you know the preceding blog and the city this is in, but I doubt anybody can guess the identity of the two gals. :p