A/N:
Had a bit of fun with that summary.
Chapter 1: Stahp it… Stahp it. STAHP IT
"Yukinoshita Yukino-san?" He asked, directing his question at the intercom. Despite having bandages over my eyes, I could see enough to come up with an adjective to describe this place.
Fuck.
I meant "fancy".
"Yes, speaking," a voice replied. No doubt a female; the name says it all. I'd be going nuts if I found out it was a dude.
"Who may this be?" She asked. Her tone and manner of speaking screamed sophisticated and formal. It was almost strange to hear someone talk like that. The only people I can think of who speak like that are businessmen, government officials, and a few others.
"You called for our services just a while ago, Yukinoshita-san," my coworker replied. "You said you had a problem with the faucet?" He added, trying to recall the details of the case.
"Ah, yes. Please come in," as if on cue, the door to our right slid open. The sudden movement and the noise sort of made us jump a bit.
"Pretty fancy, huh?" My coworker asked, watching the door slide open. I didn't reply, it was a rhetorical question. My thoughts were interrupted when he walked ahead, carrying the toolbox with him.
"We best not keep her waiting. Let's get this over with." He stated. Beautifully put. I couldn't have said it better myself. That said, I followed him into the apartment of the filthy rich.
We were greeted by a high school girl that couldn't be older than 16 or 17 years old. She had waist-length black hair and blue eyes. This said girl wasn't fugly either, quite the opposite, in fact.
Bet she acts like a biiiiiiitch I thought. Stereotypes exist for a reason. People tend to believe the attractive girls act like jerks.
"Good afternoon, Yukinoshita-san. Could you please direct us to the problem?" My companion asked. Straightforward but kept a polite tone to his voice.
Our client was slightly surprised at his straightforward behavior. I'm not surprised, if I met someone who provides handyman services with that attitude, I'd probably start cussing or something.
"Ah, of course. Right over here, um…" She trailed off, and looked at us with an unsure look on her face. At first, neither of us understood why she did what she did. But soon after, I realized we never introduced ourselves.
I decided to nudge him with my elbow, and remind him of his manners. He turned to me with a confused look on his face, but soon garnered the same thoughts I had. "Nudge," was an understatement. More like elbowed him.
"Oh, I apologize! My name is Arakaki Tadashi!" It was normal for the people working in our company to introduce themselves since we didn't have any name tags, which was borderline nuts.
Our client then turned to me. She looked at me with a mix of anticipation and curiosity. It was the same look I've always received from strangers. People would stare at me because of the bandages covering both my eyes. To them, I looked like someone who was blind, and that left to wonder "How can he see?". Or was it the face mask she was looking at? Or was it both?
I didn't lose both of my eyes. I only lost one, but the other is fully functional. The surgical face mask served to prevent the spread of an airborne disease I was carrying around.
"He's not important." Arakaki stated with an innocent grin plastered on his face.
Fuck you too
Truth be told, I could care less about introducing myself. Giving your name out to strangers is scary.
"I- I see…" Was all Yukinoshita said. Not surprised, it's not everyday you see one employee act like a douche to the other in public, or in front of a client.
I followed the client to the problem, or at least the other problem. It wouldn't be a stretch to say Arakaki was a problem himself.
"Is there anything else you're having a problem with, Yukinoshita-san?" Arakaki asked, walking behind me.
"No. This is the only problem I've experienced, so far." She replied.
"I see, very well then. Tagawa-kun, I'll return the toolbox to the van," he called out, and turned to leave the apartment. I nodded in response and started fixing the faucet.
For some reason, I had the feeling someone was watching me. I tried brushing it off at first, but the sensation only grew worse. If anything, I might have to look at my left. I can't see anything from the left side due to my current condition.
I turned to check my side, there it was. Lo and behold, the black-haired beauty was staring right at me.
Stahp it
It was normal for people to stare at me for periods of time, but this was different. This was making me a bit uncomfortable. I probably should've said something, but the atmosphere on my end was getting tense and awkward.
Stahp it
This was a little different; her staring had gone longer than I was comfortable with. It felt like she was digging a hole in my head with her own eyes. Is this what Superman would usually be worried about?
STAHP IT
As if reading my thoughts, she looked away in embarrassment and walked off to do her own business. Needless to say, no one wants an awkward situation to plague the atmosphere.
It didn't take long for us to fix her issue, and by "us" I mean "me". All Arakaki did was run back and come back to a finished product. Useless bastard. Speaking of the bastard, I could hear idle chatter from him and Yukinoshita while I waited down the corridor.
"I am rather curios to how he can see and navigate through his surroundings despite his vision being obscured," she said. No wonder she was staring at me.
"Ah. Well, I don't think I'm in any place to reveal anything about his condition," Arakaki replied, releasing a chuckle at her question.
"Well, with our current uniform, it does make him look like a misfit, or a delinquent. The cap in our uniform definitely doesn't help him one bit," he continued, laughing at his own statement.
I can fucking hear you
"W-well, I wouldn't exactly say the outward appearance of your uniform plus his medical condition make him look like one," she replied with an unsure tone. Understandable, you don't always meet an employee as laid back as this dipstick.
You're making her uncomfortable. Cut the crap and let's go
"Yukinoshita-san, forgive me for asking, but were you staring at him while he was working?" Arakaki asked without a hint of hesitation. Unfortunately, I happened to be peeking at the duo. The said question caused our client to blush in embarrassment and avert her gaze.
You're gonna affect our customer satisfaction rating, you know that?
But before she could reply, Arakaki decided to drop his act and end the conversation.
"Ah. Well, I better get going," he interjected. Thank god, about time you get going.
"Have a nice day Yukinoshita-san!" He called out, speaking his farewell.
"Likewise," the client replied as the doorway sealed itself shut.
Arakaki turned to the corner to see me there, looking at him with my gaze screaming "What the hell, man?" And he understood it, for sure. He let out a hearty laugh.
"Oh, come on. You know I didn't mean that!" He said, defending himself. Well, he wasn't wrong. He's always been like that around me. Good thing it wasn't only a daily basis. I would've gone nuts by then.
"But hey, what's it like having a girl stare at you? And a pretty one, too!" Arakaki asked with a smirk on his face. I didn't answer verbally, I only gave an annoyed grunt in response. If anything, he was reading the situation wrong. Guys are simple minded, true. But this staring stemmed from curiosity and peculiarity.
He laughed and changed the topic. "Well, we better get going. You're starting school tomorrow, aren't you?" He asked. The sudden change in topic did remind me of my upcoming school year. Transferring midyear was a little bit of a hassle. Almost got rejected, but I was saved by one open slot for that grade level.
"Sobu High, correct?" Arakaki asked, shifting his eyes toward my direction as he walked beside me.
I only nodded in response, confirming his question. Being born in Japan, then moving back and forth was a hassle. Enrolling in a school in the middle of its academic year didn't help either, but I'm happy it's over with.
"You know, you should talk more. It's probably gonna get me some weird looks if people think I'm talking to myself," he said.
"I don't talk when I don't have to," I replied. He was slightly surprised by my vocal response and soon donned a smile on his face.
"There we go! Now you can go talk to that girl who was staring at you!" He squealed. This crap he'd been pulling had been annoying, to say the least.
"Fuck off."
"Never mind. Looks like you won't be able to get a girlfriend now…" He stated, in a mockingly sad tone.
"Fuck you."
As soon as I got home, I flopped on my bed and lay there for a good while. Doing odd jobs part-time was so bad. At least it gave me something to do while I waited for my school year to start. There weren't many occupational hazards that were life threatening, other than the jackass that I was assigned to accompany during that venture.
I picked myself up from the bed and walked over to the closet. From there, I pulled out the school uniform of my future school. The choice of clothing the school selected was rather formal, in my opinion. But it was nothing I couldn't handle. If it doesn't make me look like a doofus, then I might as well take it. I was a bit nervous about this. Starting in a different school within a different environment. It was comparable to starting a new life, and it may possibly be.
I was born in Japan, but moved to America when I started my middle school years. Now, I'm back at home country, starting my second year of high school from my origin. I didn't think much about moving out of the borders that belonged to the Western civilization. Had nothing to lose, or miss there. Made a few acquaintances, but not much. Possibly a few friends when I stayed there, but none close enough to affect them when I moved. I was fine with that, it'd probably be better if no one got affected. Don't want someone getting moody or something, and constant communication can be a pain in the ass.
I'll be fine… I thought, reassuring myself. It's probably normal to be nervous when it comes to all this stuff, right? I don't wanna end up being the weird kid everyone secretly hates. If that does happen, I'll probably end up jumping out the window. Hopefully I don't have to do that, though.
What's wrong with being different, though?
Well, it's a good point. What's wrong with being different? Imitation is suicide. People tend to change themselves and conform so they could fit in. I can't exactly blame them, no one wants to be left out or ostracized. Everyone wants to get along with others, but it doesn't come for free. There's usually a price for everything. If you want to get along with others, you have to change. If you want a decent reputation, you have to leave others behind. If you don't want to be judged, you have to judge others, and the list goes on.
Point is, everyone conforms to something. They shape themselves to fit the majority's views. The majority can rule because they are the strongest. Not because they're right, not because of their morals, but because they're the strongest.
And I don't wanna end up being one of them…
Welcome to Society,
We hope you enjoy your stay,
And please feel free to be yourself,
As long as it's in the right way,
Make sure you love your body,
Not too much or we'll tear you down,
We'll bully you for smiling,
And then wonder why you frown
We'll tell you that you're worthless,
That you shouldn't make a sound,
And then cry with all the others,
As your buried in the ground
You can fall in love with anyone,
As long as it's who we choose,
And we'll let you have your opinions,
But please shape them to our views,
Welcome to Society,
We promise that we won't deceive,
And one more rule now that you're here,
There's no way you can leave.
-e.h.
A/N:
Okay, this story just came off the top of my head. Chances are, this guy is gonna fuck around often in his mind.
This was just a setting I came up with. Might change the title, currently a placeholder. If it stays the same as it progresses, then it'll most likely be final. Updates from this story will come feedback. If you're interested in where this goes, or what effect he'll bring, then just tell me.
I'm not quite sure myself.
This chapter serves as background information and an introduction for future chapters.
"Imitation is suicide" - Ralph Waldo Emerson