Forward and Back

by Michi-Pichi

Souji gets off the train and goes back to the world of the city and life that used to be all too familiar. Before Inaba it was what he was used to and who he had been. He is finding that you don't just go back to being that person.

1. Homecoming

Chapter One – Homecoming

Nobody was at the platform to greet him as he exited the final train back to the city. He simply went along with the crowd of commuters toward the turnstiles met the same pastiche of pachinko parlors fast food restaurants and convenience stores that were there when he left. He almost jumped back in surprise when a young woman, barely college age, extended a package of tissues in his direction, an advertisement for eyeglasses.

The walk from the subway station in Asakusa to his family home was no more than ten minutes. All in silence walking among a stream of people who lacked faces or names. The entrance gate creaked slightly at first push, giving way to a flower bed overgrown with wild weeds and Souji half expected the lock to be rusted shut.
It wouldn't have been the worst scenario.

But instead the door opened, revealing the sleek décor of a modern home, all lined in a thin film of dust. Not enough to account for a year, but his parents had hired someone to check in on the home from time to time in their absence.

"I'm home," Souji announced. This was the first time he had done so loud enough for it to echo. He must have learned to be louder after spending so much time around Yosuke and Chie. But it still echoed.

Nobody was home.

He dropped his bag next to his shoes at the foyer and took in what felt like a time capsule. White walls. Tasteful, mundane decoration. Once he ran a damp rag over the surfaces it would look like something out of a home design magazine. It was about as lived in.

His room was an extension of that. Matching, tasteful furniture rather than the self assembly shelves his uncle bought from Junes. The contents of his shelf were just as it was left with books nestled between his academic awards. No threadbare old sofa. It didn't have the faint smell of cigarette smoke and mildew. It didn't smell of anything. All clean lines and muted colors.

Respectable and proper.

As Souji settled in he wondered what his parents would say if he put up a couple of his model kid projects or made a few origami pieces to showcase how good he had gotten and add some color to the room.

Otherwise it was a matter of waiting. For his parents. For his third year to start. He stared out the window with it's view of the neighbor's house, wondering which would come first.