I'd never given much thought to how I would die.

But dying in the place of someone I love… seems like a good way to go.

I mean, so does frolicking across a minefield, getting hit by an ice cream truck and eating a tide pod, and those have SO much more meme potential.

Less poetic though, I guess.

So… I can't bring myself to regret my decision to leave home. I would miss it. I would miss my loving, erratic, hairbrained mother (pfft, just kidding, she's a cunt). Frankly, it's a matter of 'do I want to eventually get shanked by a psychotic bitch, or find a foster home.

So… this will be a good thing. I think.

TWILIGHT(ISH)

In the country of Japan, under a nearly constant cover of clouds and rain, there is a small town named Nanporo. Population… seven thousand, eight hundred, and eighty six people. This is where I'm moving. My foster dad's Choei. He's the chief of police.

"Your hair's blonde," he mutters, breaking me from my very deep thoughts.

"I… bleached it," I answer, not sure what else to say. What a very obvious observation. He must be a great officer.

"Oh." Oh yeah. Fucking fantastic.

I get out of the car, glancing around my new home. A slightly ramshackle building, the two storey home is at least more welcoming looking than any drug hovel the old bitch kept me at.

"Cleared some shelves off in the bathroom," Choei mutters behind me as we climb the stairs, lugging bags.

Oh, nice. One bathroom. Still, a shelf will be a welcome change. I don't know how much Mom would spend on lipstick, but there were always dozens of half-used tubes scattered around. Probably more than she spent on food, which is still less than she spent on cigarettes. We reach the bedroom, and Choei speaks again, nodding to a light on a desk. "It's a pretty good work lamp," he says gruffly. "Sales lady picked out the… the bed stuff. You like... you like purple, right?"

I nod quickly. "Purple's cool," I answer. "Thanks."

Choei looks around awkwardly for a moment, hands on his hips, before relenting. "Okay," he mutters, and leaves.

As I'll learn, one of the best things about Choei, is he doesn't hover. I sit down on the bed, before a quick horn from a car outside catches my attention. I stand back up, drifting to the window. Outside there's a pickup truck, and a very tall boy helping an older man in a wheelchair out of it. Choei's speaking to them, and I frown.

A few moments later, I come out when I realize it would look pretty hermity to sit upstairs and stare at them through the window. That's something a really boring heroine would do, can't fuck shit up if you don't do shit. Choei nods when he sees me, and lifts his chin slightly. "Arika, this is Bunta Kuro," he says, nodding to the man in the wheelchair. "He's a good friend of mine."

I force a smile and shake the man's hand. "Nice to meet you," I say.

He smiles back. "Nice to have you here, kiddo. Choei here hasn't shut up about it since he found out you were coming!"

"Yeah, yeah, keep exaggerating and I'll roll you into the mud," Choei mutters, rolling his eyes.

"Not before I ram you in the ankles!" Bunta grins, chasing after him surprisingly deftly for a man in a wheelchair. Various fighting noises blend into the background. Old people are weird. Still, it's nice and really fucking weird to hear that I'm wanted.

The boy who was with Bunta, the stupidly tall one, grins and steps forward, offering his hand with a slightly sheepish look. "I'm Yuma," he says, his voice betraying the sigh he fights very hard to contain. "No relation, I just help him with his gardening and housework and shit."

I nod. "Yeah, nice to meet you," I say, before glancing over at the giant toddlers chasing each other in the street. "...Are they always like this?"

Yuma rolls his eyes. "It's gettin' worse with old age."

Choei and Bunta amble back over once they've had their weird geezerly fun, and Choei slaps the truck. "So, whaddya think?"

"What?" I ask.

"Your homecoming present," he nods.

I blink rapidly, between Choei and the truck. "This?" I ask incredulously.

Choei nods slowly. "Just bought it off Bunta here."

Yuma juts his chin out. "I rebuilt the engine for ya," he adds.

It takes me a moment to process that this man, that has already in ten minutes done more for me than my birth parents ever have, has just bought me a car. Is it pretty? No. Is it a motorbike? No. It doesn't matter. A wide grin spreads across my face, even as I'm completely taken aback. "I-I… this is perfect!" I stammer, drifting over to the front and opening the door, just absolutely incredulous. In my haste, I accidentally hit Yuma with the door, who lets out a 'tch' sound. "Sorry," I mutter offhandedly, climbing in and turning the car on. Yuma climbs in beside me, though he looks a little big to be in here. "Uh, do you want a ride to school or something?" I offer, jumping on the chance for a friend.

He winces. "We won't be going to the same school. I go to a day school, Choei said you had requested night classes?"

I nod. Oh, right. "Yeah. No need to deal with mornings that way," I explain. "Well, whatever. That's too bad. It would have been nice to know someone on my first day."