Unbelievable. Completely and utterly unbelievable. When I got home from school to see my parents standing in the kitchen with solemn faces, I knew I was going to have to prepare myself for news of the less-than-positive sort. Why was I still so shocked? A parent losing his job was the kind of thing that seemed fairly common. I'm sure it happened quite often, many hundreds of times a day in all different parts of the world. Even so. . .
What bothers me is the fact that of all people, it had to happen to me. I was already living a stressful life (who wouldn't, with Miss Evil Overlord You-Know-Who always looming overhead?), and now I'm being told that my dad has, to put it bluntly, been fired, and therefore, due to insufficient funds, the house that I was calling home just this morning is no longer ours. Guess I'm just not cut out for happiness, am I?
And, unsurprisingly, matters most certainly did not improve as the discussion continued. The uncomfortable feeling of sitting on formerly our furniture, in formerly our living room, in formerly our house, did nothing to help. My parents and I awkwardly attempted to debate about our options, changing the subject at every other sentence, resulting in something that sounded more like a string of unrelated sentences than a conversation.
After a bit, I, having grown impatient with this discussion that wasn't getting anywhere, decided to cut to the chase, if you'll forgive the use of a cliché expression.
"What exactly are we going to do next? Is there some sort of plan?"
What followed was a period of dead silence. My parents gazed sadly at each other, while my sister sat anxiously with Shamisen, stroking the usually energetic male calico who now looked just as solemn as we did.
Finally, with a sigh, Mom turned towards my sister and me.
"Your father and I have decided that since we need to find a new job and a new home, we'll be doing a fair bit of traveling. You and your sister need to stay in school, and you can transfer when we settle on a place. We'll be leaving in a week, so you should take that time to find a friend that you, your sister, and Shamisen can stay with."
It was at that moment that I remember going through my list of friends, realizing with dismay that as far as close, trusted friends go, I have only four. I turned over the possibilities in my head.
Stay with Haruhi? Absolutely not! Knowing her, she'd charge me rent. That or she'd turn me into her personal household slave, put me in an embarrassing apron and make me cook and clean and bring her breakfast in bed. Perhaps both. Have I ever even met her parents before?
With Nagato? Impossible. Last time I was there anyway, she lived in a one-room apartment, and its furnishings consisted of a single table. I felt bad for her, living alone in that place all the time, but once you add my sister and Shamisen into the equation, we'd just end up being a burden anyway.
Miss Asahina? Probably not a good idea either. The two of us naturally don't interact much outside of school, and she has explicitly told me not to get too friendly with her. Moving into her house (which I've never even seen by the way) would likely only amount into an invitation for trouble of all sorts.
And Koizumi? He lives in a large house with plenty of extra rooms, and I've heard the only other person he lives with is his older cousin. He'd probably be perfectly willing to take us in too, considering how agreeable and friendly (perhaps too friendly?) he is. But I shuddered to imagine what would happen if the news got out. Taniguchi wouldn't let me hear the end of it.
The odds were most certainly stacked against me.
I checked the clock. Turns out that dealing with this family crisis had gone on until 1:00 AM. I suppose then it was a good thing that we had a day off from school tomorrow. The members of my family all bid each other uneasy goodnights, and I headed up to my room.
Toying with my cell phone for a few minutes, I thought over my options again. It was just my luck that all of my friends happened to be unsuitable living companions. But as for who would be the least unsuitable, I had no idea. But the more I thought about it, the more obvious it became. It would by no means make me happy, but at this point, did I really have a choice?
With clearly visible irritation, I snatched the phone off my bedside table and dialed a number. While it rung, I waited, feeling a lot more nervous than I knew I should have. And I was soon greeted by the familiar voice on the other end.
"Hello? This is Itsuki Koizumi."