"What were you thinking about?"
I hear a click as I close the door to the apartment. I'm sweating slightly but a smile tugs at the corner of my lips as I let out a sigh of relief.
Safe. I'm Safe. It feels good to be safe. I grab onto my pair of khaki pants, just to make sure that I'm not just imagining this safeness. I've survived another one of those mornings, meaning that I've managed to leave the apartment, while my mother is in a foul mood, wearing pants.
As I breathe another sigh of relief, I lean over to pick up my school bag. Slowly, I make my way to the stairs that lead down to the lobby.
Leaning against the wall right outside the apartment complex, on his phone, it's impossible not to spot his vibrantly colored hair (Though I really shouldn't be talking). Back in my second year at Kunugigaoka, when I first became friends with Karma Akabane, he used to wait in the lobby when we walked to school. A few months ago, though, he started a fight with someone in the lobby and the receptionist that's here on most days doesn't like him being here anymore.
I wave to the blond haired receptionist as I leave the lobby. She looks up from her computer and gives me a short wave back. The glass sliding doors make a slight squeaking sound whenever they open so Karma easily notices me when I walk through them.
He pockets his phone and opens his mouth, a trace of curiosity on his usually bored face as he comments on my arrival, "You ran into trouble with her again, didn't you?" It's not much of a question, seeing as both of us know the answer, so I don't respond.
His amber eyes meet mine, as if expecting me to say something back. When I don't, he lets out a huff and starts walking. I follow, feeling slightly frustrated with myself. "It doesn't matter, anyway. If she did anything, I mean." The words leave my mouth before I even finish the thought. Karma stops abruptly, and it only takes me a second to realize that I said something wrong.
"It does matter, Nagisa. She shouldn't be doing stuff like that to you." He turns towards me and locks eyes with me, this time earnestly wanting me to respond to his statement, to agree with him. But, instead, I look to the side as he tries to hold my gaze, not wishing to engage in a conversation that is focused on this subject.
Soon, he stops trying to get me to talk, and continues walking ahead of me. As we walk, a memory comes to me. It is of last year, when my friendship with Karma changed.
"Wait right here for a second. I need to get something inside." I say to Karma as we stand in front of my apartment. He doesn't question the command, by now he's used to not being invited into the apartment I share with my mother. So many times I've entered his house and not once has he been invited into mine; it makes me feel a bit guilty. But, honestly, I think I would feel worse if I invited him in and my mother did something that made my redheaded friend think of me differently.
He nods nonchalantly, and I disappear from his sight and into the apartment. As I enter the hall, I remember the other reason I've never let him in before. The photos lining the wall are something I would never want him to see. Dozens of pictures depict me in several outfits-mostly dresses-that my mother has forced me into.
I have to go through the kitchen to get to my bedroom and, disappointingly, my mother sits at the table, a bag by her side. A smile breaks onto her face as she stands up.
"Nagisa, I picked up a wonderful blouse for you on the way back from work today!" She says cheerfully. It almost makes me feel like a bad person when I respond.
"Can I try it on later? I'm about to go back out again." It's a pretty reasonable statement, I think. She seems to be in a good mood today, I think. She'll agree and I'll try on the shirt later, I think. I'm obviously not good at thinking because all of my thoughts are wrong.
"Whatever you're about to do can wait, just try this on." She says, still cheerful.
"Mom, I really can't do that. Someone's waiting for me." I'm stupid. I must be stupid to say something like that.
Her smile quickly falls and she leans over to pick up the bag. After taking out a blue and white sparkled lacy blouse, she thrusts it towards me. "Wear it," she orders, her tone drained of all cheerfulness it held only seconds earlier. I stand there, debating whether I should follow the order or not, disillusioned into thinking I have a choice.
She takes my stalling as defiance and immediately her face changes from one of firmness to one of deep annoyance and agitation, very close to anger. In a fluid motion, she lifts the top over my head and I make the mistake of stepping back.
I hear the rapid fire crashing before I even notice that I accidentally got too close to the dishes mother had most likely cleaned earlier. My eyes widen in shock and pure dread of what's going to happen next. Once my mother's agitated, it only takes something small to send her into anger mode. Usually a slip of the tongue or hesitance to follow her orders does the trick. Knocking over a stack of glasses definitely puts me outside of her patience zone.
In what must be less than a second, her hand is raised, representing my impending doom. My back hits the edge of the wooden countertop none-too-softly. Within the second, her hand is raised again.
"Hey, Nagisa, I heard I crash. Everything okay in here?" The voice catches me off guard and it obviously catches mother off guard too when she freezes.
My eye slowly drifts to the entrance of the kitchen, where Karma stares, a shocked expression on his face. I can almost see the thoughts whirring in his head as his expression changes to one of confusion and then to one of cold anger directed at my mother.
I know he's figured it out. I know my cheek has red, hand-shaped splotch on it and I know my mother is standing over me threateningly. I also know Karma is not an idiot. The way he glares at the woman standing over me is proof of that.
I also know that this changes things, so when I speak, I adopt the same cold tone my mother's used with me on so many occasions, "Get out, Karma."
Contrary to my tone, my eyes are pleading, hoping that he'll realize that he should just leave. He doesn't, of course. He's never been one to back away from a challenge.
"What the hell are you doing," he addresses my mother angrily.
"Nothing," I answer for her, knowing that she's not going to answer someone that addresses her so rudely.
"What the hell are you doing to Nagisa!?" Karma repeats again, totally ignoring me.
My mother turns toward Karma, her face morphing into a chaotic expression that I've only seen her wear enough times that I could count them on one hand.
"Get out," she says coldly. "No one invited you in so get out, you pest." She finishes without remorse. Karma continues to stand at the entrance, holding his ground.
"Karma…" I trail off, not really knowing what to say to him in the presence of my mother.
She turns towards me with her crazed expression. "You too, you get out too."
Before I even have time to move, she shouts, "BOTH OF YOU GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! GET OUT, NOW!"
Unlike Karma, I don't need to be persuaded much anymore. Darting from under her, I grab Karma's hand as I leave the hostile environment I call home. Leaning against the gray apartment door from the outside, I breathe heavily. I let my eyes fall on Karma, who's staring at me.
"What was happening before I came in there, Nagisa?" His voice comes out surprising calm but the look in his eyes tell me I won't be able to dismiss this question without a full, honest explanation. And so, that's what I decide to give him.
As I walk on the side of the road, following behind Karma, I can't help but wonder about the time before that incident. Back then, Karma was never reluctant about leaving me when he walked me home and never asked if I ran into trouble in the morning. Now, he does both of those things.
"Hey! Catch up, Nagisa!" As I hear the familiar voice, I realize I've slowed my pace and am at least six meters behind Karma. He chuckles to himself as I run to catch up with his long strides.
"What were you thinking about?" He asks.
I shrug and answer, "Something that happened awhile back." He looks at me quizzically but I only smile in response. It's a memory I would rather not have but I can't stop myself from smiling whenever I think of it. Yes, that incident changed our friendship, but Karma still stays by my side and, despite being overprotective sometimes, I'm happy that he continues to associate himself with me.
A/N: Please forgive me for taking so long to update. It's nearing the end of the school year and all my teachers are drowning us in projects. Actually, there's going to be some changing of POV in this story but it's not going to show up for a while. Thanks for the 100+ follows!
I will hopefully see ya'll later,
Palpex