Yuki and I sat in the dimly lit living room sipping our tea in silence for a while. I worried that she thought I was a troublemaker of sorts; dragging her into things that she didn't need to be involved in. I had certainly been a fairly demanding and overly presumptuous niece so far since I'd lived there- I hoped that she didn't believe that I was going to be putting pressure on her like this all the time.
"Aunt-" I started, feeling the need to explain myself further; but Yuki shook her head, giving me a crinkly smile.
"It's alright, child." She replied, taking a sip of tea, "I was young once too, you know. Think I'd have let you stay here if your parents told me you were an adverse troublemaker?"
I raised an eyebrow, to which Yuki laughed pleasantly; but the tension was still present in the air.
"I don't listen to him," Yuki replied, "don't worry. He doesn't see the good in anyone or anything- even his own daughter."
I knew Yuki was referring to my Dad; whom I have, at best, an unhealthy relationship. Michio Kawasaki, my father, is a well-known lawyer with a respectable salary; which he spends on cars, women and himself- leaving me, my brother and my mother to cope virtually on peanuts. We didn't need him particularly, but for some reason, Mum won't divorce him. She says it's because she knows there's good in him somewhere and she hopes to bring it out of him someday. I think it's bullshit; but her mindframe living with him is poor, at best. Sometimes I don't know whether or not she's stable anymore, so I usually keep out of things between them and avoid mentioning anything to set her off. She can be incredibly scary sometimes; which is difficult to believe because she's usually so quiet, meek and mild mannered. I have a scar on my left arm where she attacked me with shards of broken dish when I was thirteen. Sure, she felt bad about it- cried, promised she'd never do it again and said I was 'her baby'- but ever since then, I've never been able to trust her.
My Dad's not a particularly vicious person; just plain selfish. I knew Yuki couldn't stand him- probably why my father talks about her an awful lot and calls her for everything without much of a reason to. Yuki actually has a reason to hate him, however; being my mother's sister and occasional emotional 'punching bag'. Mum tells her literally everything. Yuki knows things even I don't know- probably things I don't want to, either. And yet, through all of the cheating and money-blowing, he still considers us his 'family'.
Small wonder really- the way he acted when I told him I wanted to come to Japan for my university education and become a Physicist. He'd wanted his 'little girl' to follow in his footsteps and become a lawyer like him, you know, to carry on the family business; because his 'favourite child' (i.e. my brother Shou) had decided to enter the Navy as an engineer. Dad loves my brother- lets him get away with everything. I'd never asked for anything in my life before then. The only reason I got any money from him to do the course at Tokyo was by agreeing to stay out there until 'I became reasonable'.
This was an extremely 'fair deal' to me. I didn't want to go back. I hadn't heard from anyone except Shou when I landed; telling me that I 'frgot 2 take spice rack to thank aunty'. Charming.
"So who's coming over?" Yuki chirped, setting down her half-empty teacup. I started to reply; when a knock at the door interrupted me. I smiled back at Yuki, getting up to answer it.
Sure enough, it was the others; along with another guy who I assumed was Kai. I smiled at them all- trying hard not to laugh. They were all literally soaked through to the bone. A thunderclap echoed in the background and 'Kai' pushed past me, grunting.
"Aoi better make this work." He muttered, kicking off his boots. It seemed pretty obvious to me that he was the kind of guy who was pretty into dispensing with the formalities and going straight to the core issues. I looked at Rei, who simply shrugged in reply. Guess it was 'Kai's' way of saying hi.
"You're Kai, then?" I asked him, a little tetchily. He turned round, looking sheepish and snickered.
"Sorry!" He exclaimed, biting his lip, "I didn't mean to seem rude or anything- it's just been a really long day, is all. I'm Kai, yeah. Take it you're Miro?"
I nodded, examining him. I wouldn't have said he was 'stunning', like Rei, Ru and Ruk were, but I could see why girls would go for him- he was adorable. I knew some girls who went mad over that sort of thing; one eyelash flutter and they'd keel over. I imagined that was how he got women; by looking at them with his fawny brown eyes and pouting his sulky lips. I was intending to be cautious though.
"Yeah, I'm Miro." I replied, trying to seem nonchalant. I jabbed Rei's shoulder playfully; his freezing, wet skin making me wince. Rei grinned, shaking his hair like a wet dog- well, a gorgeous, blonde wet dog- but the action was the same.
"Can we come in?" Ru whined from behind, his hand in Aisha's, "It's really cold out here!"
"Sure!" I replied; feeling embarrassed that I'd kept them all out there so long, "Sorry about that." I'd half-expected them all to shove me out of the way; so I'd blocked the doorway unconsciously. I moved to the side; the three of them pushing in with a wet rustling sound. They collapsed against the wall in a heap- their muscles reduced to watery knots.
"Er..." I started, feeling a bit awkward, "Can I get you all drinks?"
"Got one, thanks." Kai replied cheerfully, holding up the glass of strawberry milkshake which he'd helped himself to in the kitchen while I'd not been paying attention. I exchanged glances with Rei again, who gave me an apologetic glance. It looked as if Kai being around was going to make for an interesting night.
He's standing in a darkened alley on the rough side of town- where the drunks and whores come out to play of a night. It's because he had to stay back late in detention for forgetting his work and his teacher hadn't believed him when he told her that the only means of getting home from there was walking. He's sixteen- young and foolish- but far from naive. That's why he's nervous.
It begins to rain, but he ignores it. He can't stop it, after all- all he's got to protect himself from the downpour are his work books and he's not about to take them out of his bag to shield himself. He just wants to go home. He never believed he'd ever think that in his life, but he actually just wants to go home.
A backdoor of a bar opens in front of him about twenty feet away, causing him to jump. He hears swearing, lots of it- insults that are as creative as they are horrible. Something is thrown out- something large. When it hits the ground against the trash cans and cries out, he realises it's human. Threats now; death threats- convincing and horrifying. The door slams shut then with a bang, the smoky sliver of light disappearing. The only light left is from a blinking street-lamp about ten metres away.
He's scared now. Very scared. He hates himself for being afraid, but he can't help it. He's human after all.
The figure tries to move and cries out. He wants to run, to get away before he gets himself into any trouble, but he can't. He tries to make his legs move, but all his conscience does is propel him forward. One day he knows it's going to get him fucking killed.
He's over it now. He kneels down on the sodden ground, and turns the figure over. It coughs as he tries; murmurs coming from its mouth. He knows he's hurting it, but he needs to see the damage. He eventually manages to turn it onto its back; its shoulder hitting the moist gravel with a soft thunk.
What he does see makes him physically sick. He grunts, falling backwards in shock; his youthful eyes wide and staring. The figure's own young eyes stare back; begging and helpless. He still wants to run, but he can't.
The figure is male. His age. The base of his nose is ringed red from cocaine- but that's not the most discerning feature about it.
The boy's nose has a slash across it that looks about an inch deep; extending across his left cheek, over the bridge of his nose and ending at the right. It looks like someone tried to give the kid a 'Glasgow Smile' and missed. He groans disgustedly- nausea and pity welling in his stomach.
The boy looks up at him and gives him the most horrifying, sad smile he's ever seen. Several of his teeth are missing and his face is covered with a thin film of blood.
Then the memories end- as they always do- and there is silence.