Fields of Flour and Gold
A KnB Fanfiction
By: Lycanwolff
Chapter 1
Author's Note: My posting schedule is still going to be every day of the week, just the time of which is up in the air. Have no fear though! Read and enjoy Fields of Flour and Gold, requested by xxxLucyxharemfanxxx. ^_^
The sound of a train traveling upon its tracks was a rhythmic one, one that was capable of lolling off the strongest of minds into a blissful sleep whether the eyes were open, or closed. It was a heavy sound, firmly set on the long rails of steel that stretched across the land, and for one such mind that stared out the giant window to watch the world go by, he was lost in thought as his father's words repeated over and over in his head.
"You will do what we tell you! You will be an athlete whether you like it, or not!"
The man's voice had been furious, so angry, so heated every time he spoke, sprays of spittle would fly from his lips. He remembered being angry back, standing his ground against the man whom could look him dead in the eye despite his 6'10 height.
"I don't wanna be an athlete! It's not what I want! I don't wanna play basketball anymore!"
He slowly blinked as he stared out the window, elbow pressed into the armrest of his seat with his chin in his hand. He had screamed back, balled his large fists in anger, but he couldn't stop himself as his father continued.
"That's not your decision to make! You're a Murasakibara and that's what we do! Your grandfather played for Yōsen, I played for Yōsen, your brothers played for Yōsen and so will you!"
A single tear fell from his eye, hidden by the direction his head was turned to disappear beneath his chin. He hadn't been able to stop remembering and not even the music that blared in his ears from his earbuds was helping to erase his mind.
"I won't, and if you don't like, you can go to hell!"
Another tear fell free from the same eye as his cheek began to sting, remembering the slap he had earned from his father and how his mother gasped from the action. He remembered how she cried and sat down on the couch as if she had been the one to receive the slap, and as he stood there, lavender eyes wide from shock in the living room of his parents home, his father had done the unthinkable.
"You aren't my son. No son of mine will be so lazy, so bereft of direction and so callous and no son of mine will live under this roof. Tomorrow you will go live with your uncle. He can deal with you and if your actions get you kicked out from there too, don't bother coming back here because you are not welcome. This is not your home... Now get out."
He remembered that after that, he had only had enough to time pack a single duffel before being ushered out of the front door where it closed behind him with a slam. The sun was going down and needing a place to stay, he had gone to a friends house and crashed on their couch. He remembered that the next morning, his mother had called him and told him to meet her at the train station. With nowhere else to go, he did, where she handed him an envelope with his one way ticket, gave him a shallow hug and left with tears filling her eyes. She had climbed into a car with dark tinted windows and knowing the car to be his father's, the man drove off without even getting out to say goodbye.
With nowhere else to go, Atsushi Murasakibara got on that train bound for the countryside.
It had been a long journey, where he just sat, listened to music and stared out the window, replaying the last day's events over and over and over. It made him feel alone, set adrift in the middle of the ocean with no idea where to go. He didn't know what to do, or whom would be waiting for him on the other side, if anyone was there at all. He didn't even know if his uncle knew he was coming, as he knew his father was not the kind of man to call someone he didn't like.
He hadn't been to his uncle's farm for years, having been so long that he didn't even remember where he lived, let alone what color the house was. His uncle and his father didn't get along, much to his mother's pleas, and no matter how hard she tried, or how hard she cried, she never got to see her older brother.
He was finally jarred from his head when the train lurched as it began to slow, gently rocking from side to side as it trundled down the tracks into the approaching station. There wasn't a skyscraper in sight. Just trees, farm fields and livestock and every so often, if he looked hard enough, he caught glimpses of old farm houses hidden between those trees. It was so different than Akita, so different from Yōsen High and as the train's breaks squealed like a banshee as it came into the small, rather quaint station, the speakers over his head crackled to life.
"Now arriving at Gōrudou Kogumi Station. All passengers reaching their final destination, please step off onto the platform once we have come to a complete stop and exit through the designated doors. Thank you."
Atsushi drew in a deep breath as he turned off his music and pulled his earbuds out, letting them drape around his neck as he heaved up his duffel and slung it over a shoulder. The train was crawling the last little bit up to the platform as he headed for the exit door, not even looking out the windows at the small crowd of people waiting for the train to stop. He frankly didn't care as he stood by the door, waiting silently and ignoring the stares of the others gathering around him. He was tall, incredibly so, hard to miss in a crowd and with shoulder length purple hair he let hang without a care. A Pocky stick stuck out of his mouth, had been the entire hours long trip and every time a small child stared at him with want, he merely glared back. The large box that carried more was protectively stuffed into the pocket of his hoodie, right along with his phone, and as the train finally stopped with a loud, drawn out hiss, the doors slid open and allowed him to get off.
He chewed away his treat as he stopped on the platform, clutching the shoulder strap as he scanned the modest crowd and looking for a man he wouldn't recognize. His mother had purple hair just like him, so he figured looking for the same would help narrow it down, but when he saw none with such hair, he sighed, let his broad shoulders droop and stuffed another Pocky into his mouth.
"Hey, Killer."
The sudden voice somewhat startled him as Atsushi turned around, scanning the crowd again, but again, he saw nothing. His purple brows furrowed with disappointment, but that's when he remembered that he had taken after his father when it came to vertical reach. He looked down.
Standing shorter than he by a full foot, was a middle aged man no older than his father, with shaggy dark purple hair and violet eyes. He looked oddly like his mother, but just by looking at the man, he could tell he was worked to the bone. He was a thick man, having large enough arms to make him think twice about making him angry and the way his dark purple eyes glared up at him definitely told him that this man was his uncle, as he and his mother shared the same, fiery glare.
"Uh... H-Hi, Uncle Hiroshi." Atsushi said dully as he rubbed the back of his neck.
"You forgot I was down here didn't you." Hiroshi scoffed, his glare never letting up as he lightly frowned.
Atsushi sunk into his shoulders, "Uh... Maybe?"
Hiroshi groaned as he rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily before looking back up at the 16 year old tower of a kid. He had no idea how his little sister had been able to birth such a monster on her own, but somehow, someway, a woman whom only stood 5'3 had been able to push out a baby that weighed 25 pounds and had grown into a 6'10, 218 pound pile of framework that was held together with lazy stubbornness and candy wrappers.
"That all you brought?" Hiroshi asked, motioning with his chin at the duffel Atsushi carried.
Atsushi just nodded.
"Come on... The truck's parked out front." Hiroshi said as he turned and just walked away.
Atsushi blinked as his uncle walked away with heavy footsteps, the kind of footsteps of a man whom has spent a lifetime working fields and handling livestock. They were confident, strong even, but when that man stopped and glanced back at him over his shoulder, he realized he was being left behind.
He shook his head clear and started after him, his giant strides catching him up without too much effort. He followed him through the crowd which was easily done since he could look over most of everyone's head and as they left the small station, the evening sun's rays hit his eyes, causing Atsushi to cringe at the brightness and shield them with his hand.
"Come on, Eiffel Tower... Sun's going down and I'm hungry." Hiroshi grunted as he fiddled in his pant's pocket for the keys to his aged truck.
Atsushi's eyes adjusted enough to let him see his uncle reach an old American truck, all battered, beat up and bruised from years, decades even of hard work. Dings, dents and even scratches littered it from nose to tail and a long crack streaked across the windshield. The truck was a standard cab with a single bench seat and had a long bed that was filthy with debris from hay, feed and even manure. It stunk and made him crinkle his nose, but without room in the cab for his bag, let alone him, he was left to toss it into the bed.
"Relax... It's just manure." Hiroshi rolled his eyes as he opened the truck's door and climbed up into the driver's seat.
"Poop... Manure is poop." Atsushi grumbled, frowning and refusing to put his bag in the bed.
Hiroshi sighed, "From cows... Think of it like processed grain and hay." His shoulders slumped as he waited for Atsushi to get in.
"Poop, Uncle Hiroshi." Atsushi deadpanned.
"Oh, for the love a-" Hiroshi hissed, climbing back out of the truck before he expertly climbed into the bed over the side and started scuffing his work boots to kick aside the debris.
Atsushi dully chewed his Pocky as he watched, huffing out another breath to ride his sinuses of the heavy stench, but when he came under the man's familiar glare again, he shied into his shoulders and looked away.
After a few moments, Hiroshi hopped down from the truck, glaring at him the whole time as he climbed back into the driver's seat and shut the old door hard with a heavy metal thunk. He really didn't like the idea of putting the only belongings he had in a filthy bed like that, but with no other choice, Atsushi groaned and tossed his bag in before squeezing into the cab.
"City kids." Hiroshi grumbled out loud as he inserted the ignition key and turned the cranky truck over.
With a shutter, the engine roared to life, being loud, a bit smokey and grouchy, much like the man sitting in the driver's seat. It was yet another stench to add to his sinuses, but with no way to get rid of it, he just had to accept it with a grumble and a crinkled nose.
"I didn't get a choice to live in Akita." Atsushi huffed, craning his right leg up to his chest to make room for his 6'10 frame to slouch.
Hiroshi scoffed as he jammed the shifter into first gear with a tired grind, "Yeah, well... Neither did your mother." He pulled out of the parking spot.
Atsushi sent the man a sidelong glare, "How did you know I was coming?" He asked, stuffing another stick into his mouth.
The man's scowl softened as he drove, "Your mom called me." He leaned back into the seat and rested his wrist on the top of the steering wheel.
"Bet Dad was pissed." Atsushi grumbled as he opted to look out the cracked windshield.
"Doubt he knows." Hiroshi's scowl returned as he pressed in the clutch and shifted gears.
Atsushi shifted his gaze to study the man as the trunk throttled along, rocking from side to side from every little discrepancy in the road since the suspension was pretty much shot. The truck rode like shit, the road surface was shit, everything smelt like shit and Atsushi was pretty sure he was sitting in shit. Being in the countryside sucked and with just a scoff, he turned his attention back to looking out the window.
"You've really done it now, Kid." Came his uncle's voice suddenly, breaking the drone of the truck as he turned onto the two lane country road.
"Huh?" Atsushi breathed dully, finally tearing his eyes away from golden sky to look at the man.
"Your Dad... Your Mom said he's furious when I talked to her." Hiroshi said, drawing in a deep breath that he let out in a long sigh.
Atsushi scoffed, "All because I didn't wanna play basketball anymore." He grumbled as he planted his elbow on the window sill and plopped his chin down in his palm.
"Why not, if I can ask?" Hiroshi asked as he briefly glanced at the boy before looking back out at the road.
Atsushi half shrugged, "Didn't wanna... It's boring and not fun anymore. After middle school, I just wanted to be done."
"He wouldn't let that happen, would he." Hiroshi said plainly.
Atsushi shook his head, "Nope... Just waiting at this point for my phone to get cut off." He didn't bother to look away from the window.
"Your mom said it'll stay on. That's all she was able to broker from that asshole. Used the reasoning 'what happens if he changes your mind' to convince him." Hiroshi said, shifting his voice into a fake feminine tone as he shifted into fifth gear to set their cruising speed.
Atsushi huffed out through his nose, "Lucky me." He said in his monotone.
Hiroshi's brows furrowed as he glanced at the boy, noticing the defeated look, that far off gaze as if he was waiting for the view to swallow him up. His young face was expressionless, completely void of any clue to what was going through his head, but he didn't need to ask to have an inkling.
"She told me to tell you that she loves you... If it means anything." Hiroshi said with a sigh as he drove.
Atsushi shrugged, "If that was the case, she wouldn't have let Dad kick me out." He still didn't look away from the window.
"He'll never change... You know that right?" Hiroshi asked.
"Yeah... I know." Atsushi said almost too quietly as he chewed his Pocky down in favor of a new one.
"If I had any sort of words of encouragement for ya, I'd give them, but I'm not really good with kids. As far as I'm concerned, you're cheap labor." Hiroshi said, huffing a pathetic smirk as he slowly shook his head.
Atsushi visibly stiffened, "I didn't come out here to work."
"Like hell you did. You ain't living under my roof and not working, so you better get used to early mornings and long days." Hiroshi scoffed.
Atsushi gulped hard as that made him look away from the window, glaring sternly at the man whom didn't meet his angry glare.
"Hire help." Atsushi scowled as he returned to looking out the window with his chin resting in his hand.
Suddenly, Atsushi was launched forward when the truck, somehow, managed to stop in less than the length of a runway, sending his forehead into the hard dash with a painful slam that rattled his brain. The Pocky in his mouth shattered into pieces and fell to the floor and as he cringed from the hit, pressing his hands into his forehead to battle against the pain, he was suddenly face to face with a very angry man whom had snatched a fistful of his hoodie and yanked him across the truck.
"Listen here, you little slug... No one gets a free ride out here. You either work, or you starve, and judging that you haven't stopped eating this garbage since you got off the train, you rather like eating. You want a meal in my house, you fucking work for it. Do you hear me?" Hiroshi snapped, reaching into Atsushi's hoodie pocket and throwing the Pocky box out the window.
Atsushi gulped, "That hurt." He said, tensing his jaw as he forcibly took in breaths to keep from blowing his top.
"Are you bleeding?" Hiroshi asked, his voice firm, but still sounded as if he actually meant it.
However, Atsushi stayed quiet as he just stared another moment before pressing his hand to his forehead once more and looked at it, thankfully seeing no blood. His head throbbed, but it wasn't bleeding and as he looked back to the dash where his head had struck, he saw that he had actually dented it.
"No." Atsushi said, his lips pursed together to hide that the bottom one was quivering.
"Good... Your mother would kill me if I broke her kid." Hiroshi said as he released his grip on Atsushi's hoodie and threw the truck back into drive.
Atsushi pressed his hand into his head again as he sat up and settled his hoodie, opting to stare out the window instead of trying to say anything else. His head stung, his chest hurt and every time he took a breath, it stunk. The sound of the trunk groaning as it drove along was like nails on a chalkboard, scratchy and squeaking as the suspension tried to function, but failed every time. He hated it here, hated how clear the sky was, and how the air couldn't make up its damn mind what it wanted to smell like. One minute it was manure, the next corn, the minute after that was cow, then pig, then horse, and it was just too much. It was giving him a headache and he was finding, that the more his uncle drove, and the deeper the sun dipped, the more he wanted to go home.
Just as the sun sunk below the horizon, his uncle slowed the truck and turned down a long dirt road, drawing Atsushi out of his head that he had nearly gotten completely lost in. Dust billowed out from behind the truck, but as Atsushi finally looked at, and actually saw what was out the window, he realized that they had arrived.
The farm was small, but to him, it was a huge swath of land, being acres upon acres, many of which had been tilled to support crops. Corn and soy grew in the fields, and chickens scurried to get out of the road before getting run over as they passed. A whole acre was dedicated to groomed green lawn and right in the middle of it was a tall metal windmill that lazily turned with what little breeze was outside. Flowers grew at its base and strung up on the wrap around porch of the small farmhouse was a myriad of wind chimes that sang their songs of different tones.
The house itself, was two stories, painted a soft yellow with dark green trim and wide open windows. A metal rooster was mounted to its peak with a windsock that would turn it whatever direction the wind was blowing and poking out from behind it, he could see the deep red color of the barn where an old tractor was parked out in front. It was a quiet little place, calm and slow and just looking at it made him feel as if time had stopped.
His uncle slowed the truck and pulled in front of the closed garage door, stopping a bit roughly before jamming the shifter into first gear and turning off the truck for blissful silence where Atsushi finally got to hear what the countryside sounded like. It sounded like chimes and barking dog as a medium sized mutt bounded off the porch and ran straight for Hiroshi.
"Move back, Dummy! I'm trying to get out!" Hiroshi snapped at the dog as he opened the door and stepped out of the truck.
Atsushi slowly exhaled before opening his door and stepping out, stretching tall to put his head above the already tall truck. It was cramped in there and as he stretched his arms up high over his head for more impossible height, a clearing of a throat caught his attention.
"How's your head?" Hiroshi asked, leaning against the bed rail of the truck with his hands clasped together.
"Fine." He said as he rubbed the meat of his wide shoulders.
"Yeah... Sorry about that. I forgot how tall you are." Hiroshi said as he too, rubbed the back of his neck.
"You're truck's too small." Atsushi said, blowing out a stiff breath before looking, and frowning, into the bed of the truck where his bag was covered with dust.
Hiroshi scoffed, "Can't help it. I can't afford a new one, so I'll just have to keep the ol' girl working until the day she truly is dead." He firmly patted the side of his old truck.
"Which was what?... Couple years back?" Atsushi deadpanned.
Hiroshi choked on his laugh and smiled as he dropped his head, "Yeah... Probably. I'm driving a zombie."
Atsushi shrugged as he brushed off his bag and lifted it from the bed, slinging it back over his shoulder as he looked around. Everything was so quiet. No cars drove by, no one was talking, the wind blew without being held back by tall buildings made of steel and glass. It was so different than Akita, so unknown to him that he had no idea what to do.
"Come on, Kiddo... Tonight's your only free meal."
He stood still a moment while he watched his uncle head towards the house, giving it one last glance before starting after him, or risk getting locked out of another house for all he knew. He reached the porch just as his uncle unlocked and opened the door and stopping just shy of it, Atsushi groaned as he ducked his head and stepped over the threshold.
So far, the countryside didn't lie, as where the house looked small from the outside, it was definitely small on the inside. His head was only a foot below the ceiling and every doorway, every archway, he was going to have to duck to get through. The hallways weren't wide and if and his uncle ever got caught in the same one, someone was going to have to duck into a room just to get out of the others way. There wasn't much he could do to complain about it, and as he followed his uncle up the stairs, taking it slow to keep his bag from dragging against the wall, he was lead to his room where his frown deepened.
The bed was short.
"Really?" Atsushi deadpanned with a sigh as he stepped into the small room and dropped his bag down onto the floor.
"Best I got, Kiddo. Dinner's in an hour. Be down by then."
Atsushi turned to say something, anything, but his uncle was already gone, having left the door open to at least help him feel as if he wasn't in prison. He ran a hand back over his purple hair, raking it out of his face as he blew out a long blow of air that puffed his cheeks, looking down at the bed he highly doubted he could make his whole body fit on it. It was a simple bed with a wooden frame, and the only saving grace was that it was a full instead of a twin.
He shuttered at the thought before sitting down, bouncing softly before the bed groaned and settled from the weight. It wasn't all that bad comfort wise, but the blankets and sheets felt weird to his touch. He could feel the stitching, see tiny little imperfections in the shapes that had been sewn into the fabric and in the top corner that hung off the bed, he saw a small fleck of stuffing sticking out from between the two layers.
His head still hurt too much for him to think as to why, so instead of trying, he stood and scooped up his bag to unpack. He only had a few pairs of pants and a handful of shirts, a couple pairs of shoes with socks and underwear and his bathroom things. It was all he was able to pack and if it was going to be all he was going to live off of, laundry was going to have to be daily.
Finding that he had lucked out and his clothes had been spared the stench of manure, he pulled his hair back to get it out of his face before heading back downstairs, but the second he stepped into the hallway, his nose was hit with an aroma he hadn't smelt yet.
Cooking chicken.
Atsushi took a deep inhale that instantly made his stomach roll with a growl, causing him to salivate and roll his eyes into the back of his head. It was a whole different kind of smell, one he had never experienced before, not even in his own house when his mother would cook. There was spices and it smelt juicy and warm and it drew him all the way down the stairs and into the kitchen where his uncle was cooking at the stove.
"What is that?" Atsushi asked, taking in another, far stronger inhale that made him lick his lips with want.
"Katsu... That alright?" Hiroshi asked with a quick glance over his shoulder.
Atsushi just nodded, not really caring if the man saw it, or not as he took in the small kitchen. It was just as quaint as everything else, with a small round dining table in the middle of it and the fridge all the way to the right. There was a double sink and some counter space, a stove top and an oven with some cabinets. It was a standard kitchen and across from where he stood was a door to a massive deck in the back of the house.
"Hey... Purple people eater... That alright?" His uncle asked again, this time having turned around to stare at him.
"Huh?... Oh, uh... Yeah. It smells really good." Atsushi said, rubbing his neck as he sat down at the dining table where his knees nearly pressed into the underside of it.
"Thanks... Everything alright with your room?" Hiroshi asked plainly as he returned to cooking.
"I guess... The blanket feels weird." Atsushi said as he crossed his arms on the table.
Hiroshi's brows furrowed, "How so?"
"It's just weird... The stitching kinda sticks out and there's stuffing poking out from between the top and the bottom layers." Atsushi said as he just watched.
"Ah... That's because it's handmade."
Atsushi sat up straighter, "Handmade?... Someone made it?"
Hiroshi lowly laughed, "Of course someone made it... Someone makes everything. That blanket was a gift from a neighbor girl down the road a little ways. Her folks run a small dairy farm down that way." He explained as he went to the fridge and pullout ed a large jug filled to the brim with a thick white liquid.
"Is that milk?" Atsushi asked as Hiroshi pulled a glass from a cupboard and filled it up.
"The good stuff. Here... Try it." Hiroshi said as he set the glass down in front of Atsushi.
Atsushi just stared at it as his uncle put the jug back in the fridge and went back to cooking dinner, the soft sizzling filling his ears and the scent making his mouth water. His stomach growled again, loud enough for his uncle to hear it and when the man turned back around, he saw that he was smirking.
"Go on... Have some. It won't kill you." Hiroshi huffed a wider, lopsided grin.
"It's so thick... Look... It's sticking to the glass." Atsushi pointed, leaning in close to study it like some science project.
"It's real milk... Hurry it up and take a drink before it warms up." Hiroshi rolled his eyes.
Atsushi crinkled his nose, "Ew... Warm milk is gross."
Blowing out a sigh, Atsushi picked up the glass and brought it to his lips, immediately smelling a creamy scent as he took a gulp into his mouth. It was ice cold, cooling his entire mouth and creamy almost to the point of being buttery. He swallowed it down where it clung to his throat and when it hit his stomach, he felt oddly satisfied.
"It's really creamy." Atsushi said as he took another drag.
"That's because it's whole milk. It came out of the cow this morning."
Atsushi nearly choke on his mouthful, clapping his hand over his lips to keep him from spraying it all over the kitchen. He held the milk in his mouth until his abs stopped trying before finally swallowing the milk down and with his mouth in the clear to produce words, he spoke.
"Are you lying?" Atsushi asked with a glare as he studied the milk some more and watched the white cling streak down the glass.
"No, lying is your Dad's milk, which is water lying about being milk." Hiroshi crookedly smirked.
Atsushi started to laugh, "I hate his milk."
"It's skim milk! Of course you hate it! That's the real stuff. It's where cheese and butter and even ice cream comes from."
Atsushi's eyes snapped open wide, "Ice cream?"
Hiroshi continued to smirk, "Oh yeah... Ain't nothing better than fresh, homemade ice cream."
"I wanna try some." Atsushi said, his lavender eyes wide with hope and want.
"We'll see. It takes a day, or so." Hiroshi said.
Atsushi nodded as Hiroshi returned to cooking and he finished off his glass of milk. His stomach wasn't growling anymore, even feeling heavy and satisfied as if he had just finished eating a meal. It was nice and as Hiroshi began to place their meals onto the table, Atsushi set two place settings before refilling his glass with more milk and sitting down.
There was rice, chicken, vegetables and a few sauces, all of which had been made, or harvested earlier in the day. His uncle had gotten the milk from that very neighbor girl in exchange for a few baskets of the corn growing in his fields. The vegetables had been pulled from the ground and plucked from the vines during the day while his uncle worked his small farm and the only thing bought that was on the table was the rice, which he had gotten from the farmer's market from the closest town; 25 miles away.
Dinner had been delicious, so utterly mouth watering that he had eaten three full helpings and guzzled almost the whole jug of milk. His uncle was stunned by how much he had packed away and for the first time in all his years of living on his little farm, there wasn't a lick of leftovers to put in the fridge.
"Wow, Kid... Where do you put it all?" Hiroshi stared, blinking at the sheer volume of food that had gotten crammed down Atsushi's throat.
Atsushi just shrugged without missing a beat as he finished cleaning off the last few morsels from his plate, sucking down his fifth glass of milk before swiping his sleeve over his mouth.
Hiroshi blew out a stiff breath as he scrubbed his hair, "Walking food vacuum." He groaned out.
"Huh?" Atsushi hummed as he scratched the side of his neck.
"Nothing. Get to dishes."
As Hiroshi stood from the table and hung his apron, Atsushi somewhat frowned, but not wanting his head smashed against a dashboard again, he gathered up the dishes, rolled up his sleeves and turned on the water.
With being so tall, he was forced to hunch over while he scrubbed, cleaning everything until all the dishes were in the dish drainer before wiping down the table. He hadn't realized that his uncle wasn't even in the room anymore, but as he rinsed off the rag and hung it over the faucet to dry, he stood up straight and groaned from the ache that had set in between his shoulders.
"You should probably get to bed. You're getting up early tomorrow."
At the sudden voice, Atsushi jolted, seeing his uncle leaning against the entryway with his arms crossed. His face was entirely blank, but just by the tone in his voice, he knew he wasn't kidding.
"B-But tomorrow's Saturday." Atsushi said as he dropped his arms to his side from his stretch.
"Doesn't matter. Livestock can't tell the difference. To them, it's just another morning. Get some sleep." His uncle said before pushing off and disappearing into the living room.
Atsushi frowned, but decided not to argue, as the prospect of sleeping outside didn't exactly settle with him. He could hear the crickets through the walls and they were so loud it was almost like they were chirping right in his ears. The thought sent a shiver down his spine as he headed upstairs and into his room, gathering up his sleeping shorts and a t-shirt before heading into the bathroom just down the hall. It was simple, nothing more than the essentials and shutting the door, he sighed as he started to undress.
A bath was absolutely out of the question, as the tub was no where near big enough to contain someone made of mostly arms and legs. He actually wanted a bath just to sit and not think about anything, to forget where he was and why he was there, but sitting on the stool while the hot water rained down over him was going to have to do.
Bathed, dressed and with teeth brushed, Atsushi padded back to his room and shut the door, tossing his towel, dirty clothes and shower kit onto the floor without a care. He genuinely didn't care anymore, didn't want to care and couldn't be forced to as he flopped down onto the bed that was too small. His legs from his shins down to his feet hung off the end and his arms nearly hung to the floor it was so small, but the pillow was plushy and cuddly and that, was the only thing going for him.
He curled his arms around the pillow to hold it close as he stared out the small window above his bed that afforded him a small little patch of night sky. It was black and speckled with so many stars that he hadn't known that many were up there. They were bright ones and dim ones, large ones and small ones, and not a single one was overshadowed by the brightness of the half moon. It was a beautiful sky, but one that he watched through watery eyes.
Despite the beauty, despite the incredible food he had gotten to enjoy just that evening, Atsushi cried and buried his face into his pillow and hoped, wished that it would all just go away.