a/n: this is more of a writing warmup than anything .. also minor au cuz idk headcanons n all
At The Very Least
His mom has been gone for six days when Akihito realizes the little money she had prepared for him was already depleting and all he has left are two pieces of melon bread from the convenience store. He is aware of this because he counts the money religiously every night before he sleeps and neatly stashes it in a brown envelope under his futon like a ritual for living.
The bread is chalky.
This was not meant to happen. Akihito turned nine two weeks ago and his mom went overboard and bought a chocolate cake with two bottles of sake even though he says he doesn't like chocolate and has to remind her that he's underage. She means the best but Akihito still coerces her to tone down the spending and think about this month's rent.
The funny thing is, Akihito has a feeling they're not even poor. She always manages to scrounge enough cash to get them through the year and even enough to move when they have to. He doesn't know too much about youmu except that he's half one and they're the reason why his mother goes on her "breaks" so much. Once, he saw multiple plastic bags bulging with colorful, rocky gems hidden in the same space of the closet his mom keeps her weird costumes. He stacked them upon each other until he built a tower about his size. The next day they were all gone down to the last stone and his mom came home with tickets to a theme park.
But when she does leave, Akihito deals. He has a normal routine; waking up five minutes past nine, general hygiene, breakfast, school, then home. Actually, he was pulled out of school months ago—when he crossed the street with his friends and got up without a scratch after being hit by a speeding car. He didn't particularly like being called a monster. So now, instead of going to school, he reads books and magazines and anything he gets his hands on. Right now he's really into this monthly magazine featuring eye wear his mom bought on another binge. Like, really into it.
Sometimes, on the nights she isn't actually busy and Akihito doesn't feel like keeping up the cold child act, they wrap up in blankets and watch late night comedy shows that neither of them really laugh at. You're such a good grown-up now, his mother would tell him in jubilance. He would hide his blush against her chest and murmur something about how variety shows were stupid.
Akihito continues to chew on the bread even though it leaves a dry aftertaste down his throat and washes it away with some of the sake his mom leaves so openly around the apartment.
While he eats, he tries to read a chapter in the magazine he's interested in but rereads a sentence seven times because he's still hungry even with the gross pastries digesting inside him.
He's got no choice but to use the rest of the money and cross his fingers for his mom to be back first thing tomorrow. He puts on his shoes and shrugs on his jacket.
There is an old homeless man that sits in front of the convenience store who seems to always eye Akihito as he passes by, so he speed-walks quickly towards the entrance.
"I can read minds," the man says suddenly before Akihito can enter. He is staring at the pavement and Akihito wonders what he is seeing that is so amusing that makes his squinty eyes twinkle.
"Oh." Akihito tastes metal in his mouth. He's not supposed to talk to strangers, but something rather than hunger churns in his stomach. "That's nice."
"And you?"
"Me? I—" His hand digs into his pocket where the scrunched envelope was stuffed. "I'm immortal."
"Immortal," repeats the man.
"I can't ever die."
Still not meeting his eye, the old man nods like he was just told ocean water is salty. Akihito throws down the envelope of money at the homeless man's feet. And then he flees.
He runs.