Disclaimer: I still dooon't own Kodocha. :)
Notes: Hi, everyone. Sorry for not updating in such a long time, and such a short chapter, too! :P I've been really busy lately. I was in Germany for three weeks, and now I have exams coming up. Like always, I'll try to post more. Please enjoy this chapter!
Chapter 6
Opening the front door, the Hayama family was met with empty rooms and dust bunnies; a mere shell of the modern home it had once been. Feeling nostalgic, Natsumi wandered aimlessly into the center of the living room, running her hand over the polished wooden table they had been too lazy to cover properly before taking their leave. In the center of the bare floor, littered with an odd collection of dust and random papers, she tilted her head upwards towards the ceiling. The afternoon sun pushed its way through the mottled skylight which was in desperate need of a good washing.
"What a dump." Akito muttered, plopping onto the couch, causing it to emit a large puff of grime. "This sucks." He added, waving his good arm to clear the area in front of him of the grit lousy air.
Natsumi made a loud clucking noise, as if to scold Akito's lack of sentimental feelings. "We'll have it cleaned up in no time." Akito's father tittered blissfully, diffusing the situation. "We can go out for sushi tonight! How would you like that, Akito?" Acknowledging his only son's food of choice; not only was it delicious, but it was easily eaten with one hand.
Akito shrugged indifferently, "I don't hate it."
"Hey, there's a message on the answering machine." Natsumi's voice wafted from the hallway, where it their ancient phone was located.
"Seems like it's still in operating condition!" Akito's father called back merrily, winking at Akito, who returned his friendly gesture with a deadpan glare. "Get it?" He jested further, hoping to elicit some sort of smile from his stony expression.
"Not really." Akito replied, adjusting a strap on his sling, turning away from his father and ultimately ending a strangely awkward situation. It wasn't that the two didn't get along; it was more of a general difference in personality.
"It's a message for you, Akito." Natsumi said, loping to rejoin their family in their barren den. "I didn't listen to the whole thing, but I saved it for you." She offered airily, not quite yet on overly friendly terms with her only sibling. "It seems like it's from a month ago, when we were still in America."
Akito shrugged, trudging into the hallway where the phone was situated. Dust billowed around his feet as he dragged his slippers across the floor. He pressed the blinking red button and leaned against the wall, "Hi, Akito," A voice came, which he barely recognized as Fuka Matsui's, "It's Fuka. I know you're still in America 'n all," She continued in her Osakan accent, "But I have something I really want to say. Hopefully by the time you're home I'll have the courage to tell ya again in person."
Akito scratched his head, wondering what in the world she could possibly be talking about. "I know you got a thing goin' on with Sana 'n all, but after you left, well I thought about things and I realized that I still have feelings for ya." Akito raised his eyebrows dubiously, "I know it's crazy. But that's how I feel."
Fuka was right, she was being absolutely crazy. She and Sana were best friends. "I'll talk to ya later, Akito." She ended her confession rather unceremoniously, possibly regretting what she had just said.
Akito turned on his heels and began ascending the stairs to his room, thinking that his first night back in Japan had been oddly eventfully indeed.
Note:
Fuka's accent – I know, it's actually called "Kansai-ben", but I thought it would be more easily understood if I just referenced Osaka instead – a city most people know, rather than the region it's in.