(A/N: Oh my, what's this? A new chapter? Why, yes, it is. Late as per usual. And not uploaded on a Saturday either. There's a reason for that. I'm going to be uploading something else later tonight, and I'd feel so bad if I posted another story with updating this one first. With enough determination, I managed to finish this chapter, like, half an hour ago. It's a decent chapter, I think, but again it's description-based. At first, I wasn't planning on writing any chapters from Karma's perspective, but a year ago, I thought why not. I didn't think there would be one this soon, though, but I felt it was needed to A) familiarize you guys with the setting and B) put some of Karma's thoughts into text. And in order to set the scene, that meant I had to design a house; otherwise, I'd be inconsistent, and I won't have that. And while I do like the idea of designing houses, the actual process is horrible for me. I don't know how houses work. Keep that in mind, won't you?
Oh, and before I forget! Finally got a cover for this thing. I have no idea how many times I drew this cover, both traditionally and digitally. No idea. But several weeks ago, I got an iPad and a Logitech crayon as early graduation gifts, and oh my god are they God sends. The art's not the best, seems a little too harsh than the look I was going for, but I am satisfied with it. The colors do seem duller on my computer than on my laptop. Better image quality can be found on ao3.)
The mattress jostled as Karma collapsed onto the bed. His outstretched hand held a small console. On one of its screens flashed the words Game Over, but that was of little concern to the redhead. He had grown bored of the device.
Instead, he lay there, staring at the circular clock in the room, his eyes following the minute hand.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
How fun.
Karma sighed. Suddenly, he sat up. He decided to actually pay attention to the clock. 12:54, it read. He supposed he could use a bathroom break right about now.
The redhead closed his console, tossing it onto the bed. He got off the mattress, approaching the bedroom door. His hand rested on the handle, and he paused. Slowly, he twisted it, and the door creaked open.
Except, it didn't creak. Or rather, it shouldn't have. The house was just too quiet, his ears too alert. Because of this, his movements were careful, steady. Even if he knew no one else was in the house at the moment.
One o'clock. If he was correct, Karma had the whole house to himself for about two hours. Yet, beyond his room's door, he felt any noise he made was disruptive, and he did not want any attention. The establishment was all too unfamiliar; how could he not feel out of place? He had been in the large building for five days, yet he had visited a minimum of five rooms.
Karma decided to change that.
Yes, to calm his nerves, but more importantly, he was bored. His belongings could only keep him preoccupied for so long, and he'd rather not let his mind keep him company. He'd rather not think about it.
Besides, this was to be his home now—at that, he rolled his eyes—and what better way to familiarize himself with the place than to snoop about?
When Karma exited the bathroom, he was already met with his first decision. Right, or left? There was always straight, but he'd be led right back to his room. Left, he knew, would lead to the living room. But right—what was beyond right? His decision was made for him.
Karma headed right, and then right once more. Laid out before him was a long hallway, ending in a window. To his left were three doors. Past them was the one and only door on the right. The redhead decided to visit the rooms in sequential order.
The first door opened up to another guest room—or, well, the only guest room, now. Karma didn't step in, only observed the room. It was smaller than his room, only by a bit, and it consisted of the same furniture. Giving it another once-over, he decided there was nothing of particular interest in the room. Onto the next.
The next door opened to another bathroom, noticeably smaller than the one he'd been in previously. Again, nothing of note. The next room, however, piqued his interest.
Karma turned the doorknob, and the door opened up to a room twice that of the guest room. Occupying the room was a vast array of instruments—violins, guitars, drums, flutes, just about everything. What caught his eye, however, was the grand piano, which sat proudly in the corner opposite him.
Karma tilted his head. Should he? He glanced to his left, looking down the long hallway.
Why not. There was no one to tell him otherwise. Even then, did he care?
Karma made his way into the room. His destination was the piano, but he decided to browse about on the way. He was in no rush.
As his amber eyes rested from instrument to instrument, he noticed each was decorated with dust to some degree. Most only harbored a thin layer, but some more so. It was apparent the room had not been used in a while. Which was interesting, to say the least. When would be a better time than on a school break?
Finally, he reached the piano. There it stood, dressed in a black sheen, prouder than ever. Or it appeared to. Of course, that pride was dampened, what with the dust. Still, compared to the other instruments, it seemed to have the least amount of dust. A favorite, perhaps. Still, not by much. Still neglected. So much for pride.
Regardless, Karma decided to entertain it, and by it, he meant himself. He sat on the cushioned, black stool and dangled his right hand above the keyboard. He lowered his finger so that it ever-so-gently rested on a key. The ivorite was cool to the touch.
Karma pressed harder, and the note rang out, almost deafening. He perked his head to the doorway, almost as if someone was about to barge in. Of course, he knew that wouldn't be the case, but he still felt a little cautious.
The redhead breathed in. It was time to throw that caution to the wind.
He took his finger, sliding it across the keyboard. Then, his hands slammed onto the keyboard, each finger on a key. And again, and again. Dun, Dun, Dun. Karma didn't know how to play, so the notes were off, but he didn't care. It was fun, and that was all that mattered.
He spent some time on the piano, trying to play different melodies he knew. Then, he moved onto other instruments. He picked up one of the guitars, the acoustic guitar, an instrument he wasn't unfamiliar with. He was, however, a little rusty. He played with it for a while and then moved on. It was time for the drum set.
Soon enough, after going through a few more instruments, Karma figured he'd wasted enough time in that room. It was time for the rest of the tour.
He made his way out the door, gently closing the door behind him. Then, he turned to the door on the opposite wall. He approached it, noticing that the knob was different than the others so far. The locking mechanism was facing him. This door led to the outside.
Karma unlocked the door, then opened it. The sound of cicadas chirping sounded in the distance, and the bright sun shone down. His eyes adjusted to the change in light, then looked to what was before him.
There was a water garden before Karma. It wouldn't take more than several steps for him to reach the rocky shore of the manufactured pond. Reeds and lily pads were dispersed in it, with the occasional water lily. At times, he could make out the silhouette of fish beneath the surface. Turning his head to the right, he was met with the building's architecture. To the left, it seemed to lead to the rest of the backyard.
Karma looked back to the water garden. It seemed peaceful. A place where you could unwind and just think. That, however, was exactly what the boy did not want to do. He closed the door, making his way back down the hallway.
Karma made his way past his bedroom door, entering the living room. There were four other entries, and the redhead knew where two of them led. All the way to the front of him would lead to the entrance of the house. The leftmost passageway led to the dining room, then the kitchen.
The young man decided to choose the door closest to him, which almost seemed hidden away. He turned left, passing the couches, and then turned right to a very small hallway. The knob and lock matched that of the door Karma had just recently opened, but he decided to open it anyway, to be sure. Yup; it led to the same place. All but one room left. Diagonally to the right. Just before the stairs.
Karma twisted the doorknob open and was met with bookshelves. Bookshelves upon bookshelves upon bookshelves. Karma thought why not. He could see what works the small library contained.
The shelves were labeled, so it was easy to find something that fit Karma's fancy. Well, easy enough. The library mainly held non-fictional books. Not that Karma particularly detested non-fiction; he simply wasn't in the mood. He picked out noteworthy books, flipped through them for a while, put them back, and repeated the process.
There was a desk in the corner of the room, and Karma thought about taking one of the literary classics he picked, to sit down and read through it. In the end, he decided against it, choosing to head out the door and up the stairs.
The room the stairs led to was spacious. There was a bookshelf, a table, and a few chairs; it seemed like a smaller living room, but not quite. The wall opposite to the stairs had a door, and Karma found out it led to the bathroom. Smaller than "Karma's" but bigger than the guest room's.
Straight across the bathroom was another door. Again, there was a different knob, a latch. Karma opened the door, and he was greeted with a balcony. There was a small table, a pair of chairs. Nothing much else but that and the view. Karma went back inside.
The redhead made his way back toward the stairs but went to open the door just before it. It opened into a hallway, and there was another door right before. Karma looked up, and he could make out the entrance to the attic. He'd save that for last. Then, to his left, was another door. He headed straight.
The door led to one of the main bedrooms. Judging by the awards plastered on the walls, the inscribed names told him it belonged to his cousin. Well, after doing another take, Karma noticed that the display of awards was smaller than at first glance. The room just seemed to...lack personality? Was that it? It looked clean, pristine, other than the pile of books on one of the nightstands. It just didn't feel personalized.
Karma walked in, plopping himself on the bench just before the bed. He wanted to rest for a bit. And maybe...maybe think. It wouldn't hurt. So long as he tiptoed.
He had gone through just about the majority of the house, yet it all still felt surreal. Him sitting on the bench now. It didn't feel real. Like, in a few moments, he'd wake up in his bed-his actual bed-and it would all just be a dream.
Of course, though, Karma knew very well how real this situation was. At that, he sighed.
Karma started to think of details, details of how he was going to live the rest of his adolescence here. It didn't feel right to, but he did so regardless.
Soon, those thoughts led him to think about the residents he'd be sharing the house with. How was he to live with them? As of the moment, it seemed they planned to ignore him for the most part. Karma didn't mind, though; he was doing the same, and he planned to keep it that way. He wouldn't butt in on their business. Karma wondered if he ought to, though.
Perhaps, again, the redhead should be minding his own business, but it seemed as though the youngest of the household was blind to his own plights. He seemed to be coming down with something-a fever, if Karma had to guess-but he seemed to just be sweeping it under the rug. Acting as though it was all dandy. And perhaps Karma wouldn't have felt as bad if he didn't relate, but he did. The youngest, however, was no younger than him by just a few days. He was no child, he could take care of himself. For now, Karma left it at that.
The young man got up from the bench. He could have snooped around more, but he felt that that would be it in that room. Just a glance to satiate his curiosity.
He closed Gakushuu's door behind him, turning to the door on the right. He rested his hand on the doorknob but paused. The house was so quiet, one could hear a pin drop. Karma concentrated on his hearing; there was something. He heard faint click-clacking. Like that of a keyboard.
Karma let go of the handle. It appeared as though he was wrong. Someone was home. It seemed this was where his journey would end. He looked up at the attic. He wouldn't risk it.
(A/N: Yeah, so that was the chapter. Not much going on, but I promise you the next update will pick up the pace. Thank you all for putting up with this inconsistent and sporadic writer. As always, follows/favorites/reviews are appreciated, as is constructive criticism. Let's hope the next update comes sooner than later. ~Thorn)