A Year Out of Step

Last Kaname had seen his room, his desk had been covered in paper. Neat stacks of finished homework and sheets of loose doodles beside the box set of markers he'd gotten for his birthday. His animal encyclopedia had been open in the center, where he'd been flipping through it when his grandmother suddenly burst in and dragged him out by the ear …

Yet the desk he saw before him was utterly bare.

There was no sign of his encyclopedia, nor his homework or pictures. Kaname ran a finger along the oddly dingy surface, lifting it to examine in bewilderment.

Dust?

He turned to his dresser, running another finger along it next. This finger too was coated in the fine grey film. He opened a drawer, pulling out his clothes and holding them up to himself one by one.

They were all too small.

He replaced them in the drawer, shutting it with mounting confusion and a shiver. He drew the over-large coat one of his grandmother's friends had lent him tighter around his body. He was wearing nothing under it. He'd walked home completely naked, and didn't have slightest idea why.

What had happened to all his clothes? He'd been in his thin cotton pajamas earlier. He remembered putting them on after his bath, his still damp hair dripping onto the collar. He knew he'd been wearing them out in the snowy courtyard… but they seemed to have disappeared along with the night, and courtyard, and snow.

A knock came at his door. "Kaname? Did you find something to wear?"

He opened it a crack, peeking out at his mother's anxious face.

"I'm sorry… nothing fits…"

She forced a smile. "I'll go ask one of the neighbours. We can go shopping together tomorrow, won't that be nice?" She opened the door wider and held out her hand. "There's a nice policeman downstairs who'd like to talk to you a bit about what happened."

Kaname took his mother's hand, even as he cringed in on himself. Talk to him about what had happened? He didn't know what had happened. Suddenly everything was different, wrong, and yet everyone was acting like all was normal. The only thing they found strange was him.

He couldn't answer their questions, not when he had so many of his own.

A widespread dinner had been set out before him, but he'd only touched the salad before setting down his chopsticks. A big, juicy cut of steak still filled his plate, crispy on the outside but still pink through the middle.

It smelled so repulsive.

He was staring nauseously at his plate, barely resisting the urge to press a hand over his nose. He thought of the cow that had died to create the dressed up meat before him, and sorrow welled up from his chest, clogging his throat. He felt crying; the last thing he wanted was to put its carcass in his mouth.

But more than the smell, than even the thought of the poor, murdered animal, he couldn't shake the feeling, the nagging conviction, that he absolutely should not eat it. Not just that he didn't want to, but that he shouldn't.

That it was a bad thing to do, and bad things would come of it.

But his father insisted. Kaname took a deep breath, then started in on the bloody, charred animal flesh.

Every bite made him gag, but under his father's narrowed eyes he managed to get through his plate. His mouth, his throat, his stomach – they all burned, like he'd swallowed fire. He felt violently ill, stomach churned in protest.

Still, he stayed at the table a few minutes longer. His family was talking all around him. A low buzzing was filling his ears. He couldn't make out their words.

At last, he could stand it no longer.

"Please excuse me," he murmured, and hurried from the room.

As soon as he was out the door, Kaname sprinted for the toilet. He'd barely gotten his head over the bowl before he lost the battle against his rebelling stomach. In minutes, he'd thrown up all the food his mother had painstakingly prepared. He stared at the floating dinner chunks in guilt, cold sweat dripping down his face, throat and mouth still burning with the aftertaste of blood and bile.

Why … ?

He'd never liked meat. It had always repulsed and saddened him. Eating it had always made him feel like he was going to throw up. But he couldn't remember ever actually doing so before.

Dad's going to be so angry…

He raised a shaking hand to flush away the evidence of his failure to do as his father wanted. As he did so, Kaname thought he felt a woman's arms reaching out to him in maternal comfort. Startled, he turned around, expecting to see his mother.

But there was no one there.

He stood uncertainly for a moment, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him. Perhaps because he'd wanted to be comforted, he'd imagined his mother had come to him. Just as he was deciding that must be it, he felt something small and furry rub against his leg. He glanced down to see a dog-like shadow at his feet. He looked around, but he could not see any dog to cast the shadow. When he looked back, the shadow too wasn't there.

However, his leg was warm where it had been rubbed.

Though confused, he smiled at the warmth. Even if it was just his mind playing tricks on him, this was the first time someone had comforted him for this, had taken his side in this. It made it easier to bear.

His hand was steady as he reached back to flush away his vomit. He washed the sweat from his face and rejoined his family, hoping they hadn't noticed anything wrong.

And, though he still felt cold and weak and like he might throw up again, though it was difficult to spare any energy for conversation when he was hungrier than he'd been before the meal, it appeared none of them did.