Autumn Leaves
The nighttime air rushed around the lone figure, surrounding his body with a cool breeze that sent shivers and goose bumps throughout his entire petite milky white body. Brown choppy locks framed his angular face, the ends of his silky smooth hair reaching just down to the nape of his neck. Bangs coated a deep brown stopped just before his feminine lashes and delicately crafted eyebrows. Dark brown eyes remain closed as he inhales, and then exhales, enjoying the rush of the cool air entering and leaving his body. Slender arms connected to soft hands connected to spidery-long fingers were out to each side, fingers interlacing with one another at the center of his smooth chest. One knee is raised at a perfect ninety-degree angle with toe pointed down to shin, while the other legs is planted firmly upon the luscious green grass.
The crickets and other nocturnal creatures make their call in the various kinds of flowers surrounding the boy. Pinks, blues, violets, yellows, and oranges blend perfectly together as an array of beauty and awe. All the buds of these flowers lay dormant for the evening, for they are sleeping soundly in their cocoons of green leaves. No flower blooms in the evening. They hide from the moon and the many stories it has to tell.
Stars and moon illuminate the otherwise dark navy sky above. A blanket of night and darkness surrounds Li Xiao, cloaking his body in eternal night, until dawn would come, bright and early as usual, and break him free of the darkness surrounding and imprisoning him in its iron grasp. It seems as if he is woven between thick, dark strings that make up a wool blanket from a freshly sheared sheep. The bright lights dot the blanket, uninvited but not unwelcome by it. The stars and the moon are always alone.
Milky white eyelids slowly open, black eyelashes brushing against each other and the skin protecting deep chocolate brown eyes. Pale pink lips are pursed together into a thin, neutral line of emotion, just as his eyes are void of anything. Li Xiao descended his foot down from his shin to the soft, green garden grass. His bare feet became wet from the mildew-coated grass, making his blood run cold from the coolness of the water-slicked grass. Li Xiao began to make his way home to his apartment, his lone figure illuminated by the dim white light of the full moon above. Each step he took made a soft, crunching noise as his pale feet touched the grass covered dirt.
Upon reaching the white two-story apartment complex, Li Xiao began to ascend the creaky; old rotting wooden stairs up to the second floor, and down the chipping white paint hallways, to his apartment that he shares with his distant uncle, Kiku Honda, who is a business man in the country they live in, Japan.
The young Asian loved his uncle as any family member should, but Li Xiao wasn't entirely sure if Kiku felt the same level of affection towards him. After all, both the younger and the older have learnt over the years that affection should not be treated as something that someone should take for granted, for not every one is lucky enough to be born into a kind, loving, and nurturing family.
Grasping the cool, silver doorknob in pale spider fingers, the boy twisted the knob, and the faint sound of mechanical gears working was heard before he pushed on the knob, making the door open. His nails, barely escaping the tips of his fingers, lightly ran against the silver-painted metal as he drew his hand away from the knob.
At first glance, given the condition of the apartment complex Li Xiao and his uncle lived in, it would seem as if their apartment would be as run-down as all the others. However, it was fairly nice compared to the rest of the apartments in the complex.
The flooring, unlike the standardized cheap wooden floorboards that were there before, was a thick, plush red carpet. The walls, though still the same shade of white it had been painted before, had been painted over with a pure white of a higher standard, along with an expensive primer. The furniture was a traditional Japanese with a slight modern twist. There were futons, yes, but the dining tables were higher and had chairs that came with them when the dining set was bought on a sale. There were beautifully painted and framed art hanging on the white walls, and the occupants of the apartment were always delighted to say that they had been the ones to make them. However, much to their displeasure, they were never believed and often scolded and looked upon with disdain for saying such things and for trying to take credit for other's works. It was something Li Xiao had learnt to grow accustomed to if he wanted to continue living with his Japanese uncle in the heart of Tokyo.
As he entered the room, he let a soft sigh as he felt his feet being immediately warmed by the plush carpet. Knowing that his uncle would be waking soon, the boy decided to walk over to the plain rectangular windows to pull away the light lavender curtains covering the glass, and to fold the ends of the silk curtains neatly at a pile on either side of the dining and living room windows, walking into the kitchen after doing so.
The kitchen had been dramatically renovated after Kiku moved in, for he would not cook in an insect and rodent infested kitchen. Granted, there was still the occasional mouse or rat seen, or, in very rare occasions, an insect of any sorts. The kitchen, as the rest of their apartment, was very clean and well organized.
The kitchen itself was completely modernized, unlike the rest of the apartment that had mostly traditional Japanese furniture and paintings in almost all of the rooms. All of the appliances were stainless steel, and the floor was a dark oak paneling. The counter tops were plastic, dark green granite with red, yellow, and white spots throughout the fake stone. The cabinets were a dark brown color that almost matched the darkness of Li Xiao's eyes. The cabinets were made of cedar, and had an almost caramel brown color hallowed out rectangle around the center of the cabinets. The handles to the wooden cabinets were painted silver, and curled up into a crescent moon shape. The drapery hung down to obscure the window view of the city of Tokyo, and to block some of the scornful rays of sunshine as the sun began to rise along the city's horizon.
Li Xiao opened one of the lower cabinets in the kitchen, just below the white plastic sink on the right-hand side, and he took out a frying pan that was near the door of the cabinet. He held the black gel grip on the pan in a loose yet firm hold. Upon putting the pan on the fake, dark green granite counter top, he straightened his back, hearing the lumbar, thoracic, and cervical bones of his spine crack as he did so. He then got back upon the balls of his pale feet, the skin squishing against the oak wood flooring. He opened a cabinet above the white sink on his left, and grabbed six-ounce bottles of cilantro, salt, and pepper. After setting the spice bottles on the counter top, Li Xiao reached back up, stretching his arms, and grabbed a twenty-four-ounce bottle of vegetable oil along with another six-ounce bottle, this of baking shortening, and placed the two items back on the counter top. The Asian then rocked back onto the bottoms of his feet, closing the cabinet door while doing so.
Li Xiao strode over and across the kitchen, the skin on his feet barely making a squeaking sound as he walked across the wood. Once he reached the other side, he bent down, his choppy brown bangs sliding off his face, and to in front of it. He pulled back the long, white sleeves from his school uniform up to his elbow in a way to not dirty it while he searched the inside of the cabinet, looking for a certain food item, spaghetti noodles.
The boy was a bit disappointed when he learnt, upon his arrival to his uncle's apartment, that Kiku did not have any ingredients to make his beloved Chinese food as he used to do before he was sent to live with his uncle in the heart of Tokyo. Li Xiao's uncle had even forbade him from eating the food, which had made the younger Asian question his reasoning for the ban, but he knew better than to question the matter, and to just let it be as is. However, this had left his curiosity unnerved, but he kept his mouth shut.
He removed his hand from the new cabinets, not surprised to find clumps of black and gray dust on his bare skin. The spaghetti noodles he had been looking for had been in the back of the cabinets, after all. Li Xiao wiped the dust off of his right hand onto his black slacks, spreading a thin, dotted layer on his hip where he had wiped the dust.
The teenager then unwrapped the plastic casing of noodles, causing the plastic to crack and wrinkle under his long, pale fingers as he waited for his uncle to come into the kitchen.