The crunching steps of dusty white snickers resounded in the small street behind the bakery. A tired sigh escaped the youngster's lips. Man, the rules... How he wished there were no rules.
As a high schooler, he had taken extreme care of not letting people know he was in financial dire straits. To work, he had to go to the opposite corner of the city every evening... because if someone from his school saw him going to work, he would be in trouble.
Schools in Japan, y'know... They didn't allow part-time was a mark of dishonor for your school to be seen going off to work in your uniform. Social ostracism, just for making ends meet...
And he had to save. For several reasons, but for one in specific.
In two weeks time, his grandparents would come round to visit. And he couldn't let them go on dried soba. He would treat them on his own pocket, it was a matter of honor for him.
"Perseus... Draco... Cassiopeia" he mumbled, looking over his head, as he climbed the stairs and felt his pockets for the house key.
The house was less of a rabbit hutch than most, because it was a former warehouse's second floor. Used to store millet in one time, the owner place had the feeling of a loft for a high schooler like him: a bit too big, since it was all for himself. It was now a rustic department with a nice couch in it, a bed, low table and a few shelves.
The other half of the building was shabbier and looked like it wouldn't be revamped anytime soon, but it also had running water and other commodities. The owner of the bakery below was planning to fit it for rent as well.
He had considered just applying to rent the other side of the building, but he couldn't make himself heard. His grandfather pulled up a negociation on his behalf that allowed him to get the best half at an affordable rate.
He puffed his chest proudly. Perks of having a grandad like his.
...
Only to heave a worried sigh.
Great man, his grandpa. If only he could be less of a worry for his grandparents...
"Man. this world sucks. Wish I could send me'self anywhere else"
He produced the key from his pocket, bracing himself for the inevitable. He even counted down as the key met the keyhole.
And sure it came.
A thin cloud of very fine dust caused him to hold his breath, but not before some of it got into his mouth and nose, forcing him to cough dryly.
"Damnit... must think how ta' keep it out when they come here"
The owner still kept some millet flour in the rafters of the bakery, stacked to the point they met his small apartment floorboards' bottom part. It then floated up like a cloud of dust while he was out at school. "It's like the bastard's waiting for the moment I open the door ta' blast up on me!"
Hastily, he closed the door, holding the neck of his gakuran uniform close to his mouth to avoid taking in more of the flour, and rushed to open all the windows. Once in the bathroom, he took a mouthful of water, washing his mouth and gargling, only to spit out a thick concoction that looked like watered-up dough.
Dripping water all over his face, still heaving small coughs, he washed his hands and gave a peek in the mirror. Sour lilac eyes stared back, berry purple hair sticking in spikes on both ends of his head, and a small, curated but rebellious goatee sticking at the angle of his lower jaw.
When was the last time he had smiled?
Did he always looked so worn-out, wary and defensive?
He smiled wryly. Such was life at Hokori Heiya. One place no one would call Paradise...
The small stove seemed to call out to him. He picked a bag of prepared soba, still lost in thought, placed the water filled pot on the stove and lit a match to begin cooking dinner.
Blowing at his fingers after he let the match burn for too long, he resumed his monotone mental cantilene.
Of how he needed to graduate soon and go independent.
He had kept going back and forth from his grandparents' home to school from the end of junior school to the start of high school, and put a brave face at the eight-hour hinterland commute.
They still got worried, since it was evident he had gone thinner and circles began to appear around his eyes from the exhaustion of the constant coming-and-going. It was hence decided he would have to move out and live closer to school.
When they announced this development, his grin was wide, but he felt his heart jump in his chest almost audibly. For how long was he going to weigh on them?
All he was doing was eating up at his folk's points, living there...
Kaikaku Shigai or, as old ones called it, Towa City, was basically a dull place, a boring, outwardly orderly and successful community attracting people from outside the country on a regular basis.
Invisible walls were built all around, which some citizens could cross and others, the less fortunate, were constantly taught to avoid and could only watch from afar.
For the latter group, life was a constant slumber, a sunny day with no warmth, a starless night with no proper rest. There were no good jobs waiting after graduation, no outlets for the younger ones to play or relax.
The only objective of life was to place yourself in a good numbering score within the Life Scale.
His mouth went bitter and his stomach knotted as he stirred the pasta bowl. The Scale. Source of all his painful nightmares...
In Kaikaku Shigai, your life was measured daily, taking account of every instance imaginable in terms of success or failure. Every thing you do, have and are is based on points - some of which were deducted due to no fault of your own.
Where you lived, were born or who your parents were had a weight, whether you liked it or not...
Some cared and prided themselves on their score.
Others... either tried to grab points in desperate ways, or turned their back on social convention, with overt despise at the system.
Hokori Heiya was a rim-of-the-city quarter, where those in the middle of the ladder found themselves at 'home' or a semblance of such.
There was some level of mild crime, shoplifting, areas laden with newcomers looking to gain points by moving closer to Kaikaku.
But all in all, it was an area where one could try and live a peaceful life, never being the nail that sticks out to be hammered, nor the bottom-of-barrel scum.
And boy, he resented it with every fiber of his being.
He was marked for greatness, not for a dusty flat or instant soba!
He hadn't been wary and defensive all his life. He had tried hard to keep his head up high, looking at the one place he couldn't reach with his hands, but desired with all his soul.
And for once, it wasn't the points. it was the fulfillment. No one could call him useless or back-alley scum, if he was one of the Chosen.
And there was another reason, he mused, chewing on his soba dish. One he never told anyone, but that had started it all.
He shook that momentary weakness. The heck, was he going to stoop at the level of the man he most despised?
"C'mon, I'm no weakling nor a fool... I even aced the Kosen exam! They can't reject me on a technicality, they even tol' me my marks were 'remarkable' and outta the average!"
A year prior, he had submitted papers to a nationwide call for those aiming to take the astronaut academy exam. His age had been the disqualifying factor and would surely be again.
Nonetheless, he had compiled the paperwork, and was halfway through sending the second attempt, while moonlighting in his job in the main city University's library. Struggling with his conscience, no less.
He knew he would have to do something extreme to be accepted. After all, he was in a Kosen high school now and would be for a long while. He had no time to waste, or, he thought angrily, spitting some more doughy gruel, health probably.
As he picked his now empty soba dish, his thoughts returned to his grandparents, and once again, his anger grew exponentially.
Not at them. At him.
"They wouldn't be usin' points in me... if that ol' stinky coward had owned 'is pants in th' firs' place!"