Chapter 6. Break so Many Habits to Learn New Ones
When riding on the train, during those rare moments when I wasn't dozing off and instead settled on looking at the scenery behind the window to pass the time, I saw them. You know, those shabby-looking two-story condos with rust on the roofs, dirty side windows, walls sometimes half-covered in lush ivy carpets. Those obviously weren't abandoned or condemned, as parked bicycles and umbrellas in the stands were seen outside those.
So during those moments when I was awake enough to actually muse about what I saw in the train window, a thought always crossed my mind: what kind of people were living in a clearly very thin-walled condominium at least twice older than themselves and practically shoved as close the rail track's fence as possible? Would a (probably) cheap rent and closeness to the station justify the constant noise?
To the past me those answers were as academical as they were of no significance.
Now, as I had finished my part of unpacking and was just idly watching Hiratsuka-sensei skillfully make the holes for Yuki's magnetic knife holder with her cordless drill("Just thought this one might be useful, tee-hee... sigh"), I realized I now had all the answers I needed.
It was us who were going to live here: one schoolgirl not quite liked by her family and one schoolboy who, on the contrary, liked the girl quite enough to stay with her and share the hardships.
And yes, cheap rent and the fact that Keisei-Funabashi station was almost literally round the corner did justify the nearby train track. I took some consolation in the fact the owner was considerate enough to lend us the farthest apartment from it.
Finally, yes, it was my bike, among others, now chained to the small stall at the entrance, hauled here by the kind enough movers.
For such a short notice and our situation the apartment was in fact nothing to complain about. A typical 1K: one six tatami room, a small kitchen with an even smaller fridge fitted at the entrance, finally a tiny bathroom barely enough for a shower stall, a toilet and a compact washing machine("dammit kids, you have it all", as Sensei mused while looking around).
Meanwhile Sensei was done with the knife holder while Yuki had finished hanging all the clothes in the small closet snugly crammed at the entrance; all three of us just stood in silence for some time.
That was bad, because that was just the perfect time for my usual uneasy thoughts to resurface. Even Yuki's former upper-class apartment could easily make me anxious, and I had only spent a night there; this minuscule bare room was plain dreadful.
I was going to live here for quite some time.
Sharing it with a girl.
In a new unknown place, with new unknown challenges.
"Share the hardships". No way in hell was I ready for this. What if Yuki doesn't like something in me so much we'd have to separate? What if I don't?.. What if we plain won't make it?..
I still could backpedal. I still could just cancel it all. Just run awa-
Breath in. Breath out.
Better. The dread took couple steps back. How much more of this before I can resist giving into those?
How does one normally... control themselves?.. stay calm?.. no, stay effective at times like this?
"Well, that's it for now," Sensei broke the silence first. "First month is paid for already, I've given the land owner the present- yeah, you're supposed to, just in case- and Yukinohita's stuff is here. Hikigaya, you should get yours from your home too. You know, toiletries, clothes, underwear, don't forget the underwear, don't. The rest is up to you. Just be careful and don't take too much. The whole apartment is probably smaller than your room. Keep that in mind."
"Actually bigger."
"Yeah, still."
"Roger." I paused. "So... to my place?"
"Seems about right." Yuki finally spoke, traces of the same recognizable anxiety on her face. "Shall we?"
After locking the apartment door ("Ah, right, almost forgot: don't forget to pay the owner for the second key.") we exited to the street. Outside was rather bright: seems like the last of the March clouds finally gave way to the April sun. The only sounds were distant humming of the cars, the beeping of the traffic light nearby and an occasional chime of the combini's doors being open. There were barely any people around: it didn't quite register in my head we were in a middle of Thursday.
Being so close to the station also had its merits: we spotted every combini chain, a Matsuya, a Denny's, a McDonald's, a dozen of local eateries, a manga cafe, a mall and basically anything I could think of just while walking to the train station entrance.
"May check Townwork for jobs nearby," Sensei mentioned while watching me gawk. "Just a reminder."
"Oh. Right. Yeah." I replied, internally chiding myself for not thinking about it in the first place. Yuki just nodded.
"I'll ride to Makuhari with you but then I'll have to return to school." Sensei spoke again." Only a half-day leave for me. And yeah, not to be a jerkass, but I suggest you come to school tomorrow too. Or the questions will start. Real sorry, honest."
"We understand," Yuki nodded. "Having you help is probably more than we could ask for, generally."
"Probably," Hiratsuka-sensei briefly laughed, then continued with a serious face: "Take care. Hikigaya, you take care of her."
I wanted to ask so many questions and say so many statements about it all, about us, our future, but almost immediately realized they the answer would probably have no meaning for me right now anyway. Despite all my doubts and dread and heaviness in my chest I gave the only answer I should have:
"Will do."
As we walked from the station to my house, Yuki's hand in mine, I reiterated The Plan.
The Plan hinged on several important things.
Number one. No parents at home. Sure, Mom and Dad weren't anything at all like Yuki's (a plague on their home), but explaining things would be long and probably very tedious.
Number two. No Komachi at home. It wasn't even three in the afternoon so she should still be at school. That meant no pestering me.
Number three. Our beloved Kamakura actually at home. Well, not that the furface would walk outside anyway, preferring to observe the outside world from the windows or the parents' room balcony. So the noble sacrifice into Yuki's welcoming hands was thus inevitable. Sorry, earmuff. It's for the greater good. Trust me.
And that lead to The Plan. Seat Yuki with a readily available walking stress reliever in the living room, go into mine to gather things, pack them into that big hiking backpack bought for me but never used (wonder why and what they were hoping for anyway), flee and have a talk with my family some time later.
After reiterating The Plan two more times I came to conclusion it was good.
Let us commence-
-is what I'd like to say if not for three things silently staring back at me right behind the entrance door. Namely, Dad's dress shoes, Mom's flats and Komachi's school footwear.
There went The Plan. I made the gods laugh again. Is gods' entertainer a valid occupation? Apparently I was quite a viable candidate.
What were they all doing here? I inadvertently gulped.
"What is it, Hachi?" Yuki looked at me worriedly. "Are you... Oh. Are your parents at home?"
"Yeah..." I slowly replied. "And Komachi too. It's Thursday, right? Almost three in the afternoon?"
"That's correct," She briefly looked at her wristwatch. "Strange indeed... Is it a bad thing?"
"...Dunno?"
Yuki looked at me in mild wonder.
"Then... Shall we?"
"Yeah... yeah."
After walking Yuki to the kitchen sink we entered the living room, me cautiously, her in silent wonder. Not even ten seconds later she spotted our bookshelf and immediately headed to it.
"Now this is quite..." Yuki mused to herself while observing the contents. "Is that your parents'?"
"Well, yeah. Dad's to be precise... and mine."
"Yours are light novels, I presume?" She smiled and pointed to the bottom right corner, containing sorted out light novels and manga.
"Hahah. Nope. At least quarter there is Dad's too."
"Oh." Yuki went on to checking the other sections. "Western science fiction, Japanese science fiction... Chohei Kanbayashi... Sakyo Komatsu... Koubou Abe... hm... Not really acquainted with those... Secret Rendezvous? Sounds like a romantic novel, what's it doing here-"
"Don't touch that," I shuddered. "It's not. Just... don't."
"Your reaction is strange... But I guess I'll trust you on this one," Yuki moved to another corner. "So you have a dedicated corner to the Japanese classical literature."
"Oh, that... yeah. Anyway, wait a bit here, be right back- ah. Yeah. Right..."
The last phrase was said due to two things happening at once: Yuki suddenly turning her head to her stairs' general direction and falling entirely silent, eyes wide; and a soft "purr?" coming from the same general direction.
Of course. Kamakura had woken up, heard a new unknown person in the house and, contrary to his usual behaviour, let curiosity get the better of him. So here he was, looking at Yuki looking at him, tail slowly swaying side to side. Kamakura's tail, not Yuki's. I somehow feel I have to clarify that.
"Yeah, that." I picked up the feline and headed for the sofa. "Mind sitting down with Kamakura a bit while I gather my stuff? Should make you feel better too."
"Yes. I agree completely. I don't mind." Yuki mechanically replied while closely tracking the cat in my hands.
After seeing me put Kamakura to the armrest Yuki lightly and quietly stepped to the sofa and sat down.
"... N... Nyaa."
"Yeah, been meaning to tell you ever since the first time you met him. You actually don't just 'nyaa' at cats," I slowly said, in a silent wonder at the scene unfolding before me. "If you really wanna communicate, that is. Let him sniff your finger first."
"Oh- ah- yes- my apologies," Yuki hastily composed herself, sat straight and slowly brought her finger to Kamakura's nose, him alternating at looking at her and at the hand all the time. After she stopped he directed his attention to Yuki's slender finger and sniffed it. Then, unexpectedly, he hopped on the cushions and moved to Yuki herself, specifically, to her face.
And sniffed it too.
And actually rubbed against it, eliciting an elated gasp from Yuki.
That... had been never observed before.
"... I think he acknowledged you." As part of his people, that is. "That literally never happened before."
"Do you mean it?" Yuki responded with a mix of wonder and, it seemed, sheer joy of being distinguished that way.
"Yeah. Well... I'll be in my room." I said turning back. "Won't be long."
With that I made two steps to the stairs and almost bumped nose to nose into my Mom.
Judging by the looks of it she had just come down, clad in her home tracksuit, with a big juice carton in her head, as she always was on weekends. She apparently also was just going to take a gulp and now instead stopped and stared, mouth agape, brows knitted together, at the sofa.
"Holy moly." She uttered with a perfectly flat affect and gulped some juice. "What the hell am I looking at. What is this beauty doing here. Why is Kamakura cuddling to her. Oh hi Hachiman. You're kinda early from school, something happened? Better go up to your room, Komachi's friend has come."
She turned to the stairs.
"Komachi! Can you warn when you're inviting friends over next time? So I could at least look civil. Also Hachiman had come back, can you try acquainting them?" She then added to herself: "Can't let myself hope, but still, wouldn't hurt, right?" And to Yuki again: "Oh, I'm sorry for looking like this, Komachi will come down now and I'll get dressed. Will be back in a jiffy."
Oi. That was mean.
Just as I was gathering my thoughts Komachi came down too. This was now getting twice as awkward. Maybe if I could just somehow sneak into my room and avoid it all-
"Hey Bro. Mom I didn't call anyone- ohhhhh, afternoon Yukino-san! Nice to see you here! Nah, she's actually Bro's girlfriend, I think he brought her along. He stayed at her place yesterday, you were just too late and tired so I didnt tell you. What happened yesterday by the way? Something bad?"
"Yeah, uh-"
"Stop. Hold it." Mom interrupted with the same dumbfounded yet concentrated expression, clearly struggling to process what she had just heard. "Not funny. Is this a sibling prank- what do you mean Hachiman's girlfriend- are you kidding me- wait girlfriend WHAT."
Yuki, who had been sitting confused through the whole ordeal, finally chose this moment to introduce herself. Gently pushing back Kamakura with visible regret, she stood up, made a very elegant bow and humbly said:
"Nice to meet you, I'm Yuki-n-no Yukinoshita. I am indeed your son's girlfriend. I sincerely hope we get along."
Mom's eyes finally widened.
"...Holy moly."
"By himself? For real?" I heard Komachi ask while returning from the kitchen with a bottle of cold green tea and glasses for everyone. "That's wei-I mean nice! Really! Didn't even have to use the guest treats?"
"The what?" I meant it. We had guest cat treats?
"The treats our guests can give him." Komachi rolled her eyes at me. "So he would be more friendly. How come you don't know- what am I even asking. Of course you didn't."
For a second I stood in place, entirely dumbfounded, unable do decide on what I should be offended about: Komachi yet again poking at the fact I have no friends or the revelation that notorious snobbish jerkass Kamakura actually could be bribed so easily.
Furry traitor. Only curling up on Yuki's lap can redeem him. Which he was actually doing right now and I felt betrayed once more, right until I saw Yuki's expression: for the first time in the last 24 hours she, while collected and showing humbly polite body language, wasn't giving off the impression of being held at gunpoint.
Fine, fluffybutt. Forgiven.
"Nevermind." I shook my head, gave the glasses to everyone and started pouring the tea. Both Mom and Dad indeed were at home: another generous day off by their company. So was Komachi: her school's roof was receiving its well overdue maintenance and the resulting noise and dust were incompatible with studying of any kind.
Everyone had changed into more sensible casual wear; we were a civil household after all. Both my parents couldn't help but discreetly scrutinize Yuki; even if the latter noticed that she let it slide, instead concentrating on petting Kamakura. For a second I actually wanted to tell them to stop, but then suddenly realized one thing.
I have known Yuki for almost a year now and slowly became desensitized to her looks, even before asking her out. I would be the first one to attest, after all the verbal prickling I've endured from her, that Yuki was the living breathing example of looks not being everything. Yet I still distinctly remembered that first time I saw her up close: her elegance, her refined gestures befitting a princess, her calmly concentrated look...
Let them be then. And may I have willpower to endure all the stupid "gosh, where did you get such a pretty girl?".
Take Dad for example. Right now he was already opening his mouth to ask exactly tha-
"So Yukinoshita as in the Yukinoshita?"
-great. Out of the two elephants in the room he had chosen the biggest one. I actually had been giving it some thought time to time, since the question was rather obvious. The best I could come up with was a very long, very meticulous explanation carefully avoiding any compromising details about how that shouldn't be a problem.
After a long internal sigh I finally started speaking.
"She is but it's complicated right now. All I can say is, it currently doesn't pose a problem-"
"Oh come on, all you can think about is their money?" Mom flinched. "You think that's the important part?"
Dad actually made a quiet tired groan, leaned at the sofa's armrest and phlegmatically propped his head into his palm. His eyes suddenly became very dull. Yeah, that's who my eyes are inherited from.
"We're doing external audits for them. That's all."
"We are?" Mom stared at him in mild disbelief.
"What do you think you were working on in February?"
"Do you remember February?"
"Yeah. Your point being?"
"In a jiffy. What do you remember in February?"
Dad looked aside with a concentrated expression on his face.
"Uhh... End of fiscal year?"
"Exactly. I came home on the last train, then closed my eyes and saw spreadsheets. I opened Twitter to read something before sleeping and only saw those damn spreadsheets everywhere. I dreamed of spreadsheets." Mom tilted her head and gave Dad a side look full of exasperation. "You think I remembered who they all were? You think I care?"
"Yeah," he solemnly nodded. "I get you. I totally do."
Let me reiterate one very important thought:
I don't. Want. To work. Even though I'll have to in the nearest future.
"Hachi," Yuki gently tugged my sleeve with a small smile, "I think I know why you're like that."
"...Hachi?" "Hachi?!" "Wait, what?" We both actually shrunk under the triple outburst.
Make it three elephants.
"Oh gosh." Mom cupped her face. "She actually calls him Hachi."
"Mom, stop it."
"It's that serious."
"Mom."
"I had my doubts first, but now I'm sure. Thank you for taking care of my useless son."
"Mom-"
"Stop calling him useless!" Yuki suddenly exclaimed. Kamakura hastily scrambled and hopped off her lap. Everyone fell silent.
"He's not! " Her face was entirely serious, painfully so. "True, he's demotivated, and lazy, but he's not useless. He's actually one of the most caring and capable people I've met. He helped so many others, he... he stayed by my side when no one else did! Please don't call him that! Please appreciate your own son more! Don't throw him away just like that! Don't-"
Her tone was only slightly louder than normal, but sounded exactly the same as when she was stating her arguments all the back, before the student council elections.
That was her equivalent of shouting.
"Yuki." I carefully took her hand in mine, reaching out to stroke her hair with another. "Yuki. It's fine. She didn't mean it like that. I'm fine. She's fine. It's alright."
"I..." Yuki looked at me with expression most guilty and miserable. "... I overreacted, didn't I?"
"Kinda." I kept stroking her palms, trying to soothe her.
"I-I apologize," she hastily bowed to my parents and leaned back again, her shoulders still sagged; Kamakura stared at her for some time, then carefully approached her and sniffed her knee. Yuki smiled at him guiltily and put her hands off her lap. The cat warily evaluated the situation some more, then finally leapt back into her lap.
"... What was that?" Komachi quietly asked. "Is that related to why you were staying at her place? Bro, what's going on?"
"I told you it's complicated. By the way, I'm moving out to live with her for some time."
"Hachiman." Mom sipped some soda no one had touched yet and sent me a disapproving look. "That was some real non sequitur mastery right there. I really think you should stop skipping whole sentences."
"Wha?.. Uhh, sorry."
"You're just like Kuroto that day. Like, 'here's the reports for the month you've asked for, by the way, will you go out with me?' Just like that."
"Sorry for being direct," Dad shot back without lifting his head from his palm, "'Want to be Honest but Come off as Brash and Insensitive instead' Ayahi-san. Look who's talking. "
"Anyway." I decided to interject before I heard more tired bickering from my parents. "I actually came back to gather my stuff."
"So you're leaving just like that..." Mom pondered. "Out of all the scenarios you've picked the most anticlimactic one."
"Sorry."
"Uh-huh." Mom turned to Yuki. "Say, Yukino-san, do you have a vacuum cleaner? Or a broom? What about the clothes hanger rod? Cleaning chemicals? Futons? Do you have a single pot? A study desk? Organizer racks?"
"...Oh?" Yuki instantly composed herself. "No, we don't. We do have futons, there's also two storage shelves inside the room... as for the rest, no, not yet. I had to leave on a short notice, so..."
"Well, there you have it. Kuroto, dear. Remember I kept nagging about sorting out all the antique crap in our garage?"
"How did you get to know each other?"
Dad's sudden question caught me mid-retrieving the old dusty vacuum cleaner which was thoroughly snuggled behind a roll of wallpaper and, it seemed, a car's bumper; if the damn thing was younger than me, it was only slightly so.
We had already excavated a decent sautee pan, a pot, a rice cooker and a microwave; plus a semi-disassembled wire rack and an Ikea storage organizer; not counting various dust-covered cardboard boxes which Dad told me not to bother about (and for one he uttered a quiet "whupee" and told me to stay away from, very vehemently so).
In short, our garage was a wild crossover between a treasure cave and an inventory storage from your old MMO account you decided to check after three years on a whim: so much seemingly useful stuff complete with a total inability to distinguish it from the rest, not to mention unbury it without shaking the damn place up whole.
"Uhhh... we're in a club together." I was less baffled by the question and more by Dad's sudden interest in my school life.
"Ain't bad. Ain't bad at all," he absentmindedly replied while carefully fishing out something long and thin, wrapped in several layers of cloth. "Nice, the laundry hanger rod's here. Had survived four apartments. How did you even end up in a club anyway?"
It never occurred to me before but Dad really was a master of non-sequiturs.
"My teacher forced me into it," I reluctantly replied, taking the rod and putting it by the adjacent wall.
"Huh. One of those still giving two shits then," Dad mused and sneezed. "Good to know."
"You didn't have any like that?" I idly wondered.
"Nah." Dad adjusted his glasses and sneezed once more for good measure. "Wait a bit. There are some masks somewhere... yeah, top shelf. Lemme get them."
"I'll pick them," I replied reaching out for the box in question. After donning the offered mask Dad thanked me and continued:
"Either old lazy asses counting the days till retirement or some young asses who... Idunno, how did they even end up teaching? And Yamane-sensei. Always picking on me for anything. And then the whole class joining in. Screw him. I wish he burns in hell. And Fujii, that fat asshole. Always caught me when I was daydreaming and ranted about how I'm never gonna land a good job if I'm counting clouds. Yeah, who's laughing now. And that singing classes frump Machida. Always remaking folk songs' lyrics about me. Well, some others too, but me the most. May she burn in hell-"
"Dad," I hastily interrupted him, "I'm sorry. Please. Stop."
It was one thing when I was recounted the list of people to gruesomely murder in my head. It was completely another when it's done by your own father. Spanish shame is so painful.
"Yeah. Yeah." Dad finally decided to break the awkward silence. "Alright, what the hell's this one- oh it's my Discman. Long time no see, Maru-chan."
God he was more pathetic than me. How was that even possible?
"Yeah. You have it nice. Yeah..." Dad said to no one in particular, seemingly still feeling awkward. "Almost done. Hey, there you are."
With some effort he lifted out another box.
"An SL-P5000. When I bought this one it was already your age. Ah, the times... That means they're also somewhere close. And... Oh yes."
Even in the dimly lit garage I saw something I've never seen before: Dad's eyes were now almost shining.
"Yes. God yes. All my CDs."
"Huh." I replied, more to myself than to him. "I think I remember those."
"You know what? Screw it. I'm indulging myself tonight."
Dad carefully stacked both the player and the CD box and carried them to the door like they were the most precious things in the world.
"Stupid Kuroto. Doesn't listen when the wife tells him to clean the garage."
"How did you get to know Mom then?" I asked, surprised by my own sudden curiosity. "You're... you know... just like me..."
"Totally undateable? Yeah, damn right." Dad stretched his back and scratched his face beneath the mask. "By the way, been meaning to tell you. Treasure her. Not getting second chances."
"Yeah, yeah."
"As for Ayahi... heh... Walked her home after we both stayed late at work. Both newbies so everyone just dumped all the leftover work on us. You know how it goes."
"Yeah, you tell me."
"Tell you what? You don't even work full time."
"So? That one time in Matsuya they left me cleaning when their shifts were over."
"Oh. That's why you never returned there."
"... Yeah." I flinched.
"So I walked her home, cause we actually were living two blocks apart. Then she invited me to beer after work. Learned more about my coworkers than I ever needed to know. Sharp eyes, sharp wits, sharp tongue and like no politeness limiters whatsoever. That's some damn combo. One year in she didn't even bother with formalities anymore. Then it kinda went on that way. I talked about books, she talked about jazz and coworkers, then we stayed up late in manga cafes and went to work with the bags under eyes... heh."
I fell silent.
"So you really asked her out just like that?"
"She said yes just like that too by the way. So look who's talking."
"Huh."
To be honest, thinking about my parents that way kinda never happened in my life. That they too once were young college graduates on a new job; a man and a woman compatible enough to start dating, marrying, making a family, raising me and Komachi...
"Good thing Komachi's not like us." Dad seemingly guessed my thoughts. "Y'know, like you and me."
"True that." I paused, but then a sudden thought came on my mind. "Dad?.."
"Yeah?"
"When you were first living together with Mom..."
"Yeah?"
"What did you do when she went to the bathroom?"
"Huh. Well, took Maru-chan and plugged the headpho... nes... " Dad suddenly froze in place. "And when she wanted to change before a date too. Just not to spoil the surprise... Or when she wanted to show off a new swimsuit... holy shit."
"...Dad?"
"...No. Nevermind. Take this, this is the last one." He offered me a smaller box.
"What's this?"
"Our laptops. Should be a Vaio P and a Toshiba Libretto. Kinda stopped needing them when we were issued company iPads."
"...Oh. Thanks..."
"Don't mention it. Check the batteries though." Dad heavily stood up straight from his bent position and tiredly stretched. "Now go get changed and cleaned, Mom should be done with the dinner. Let's see how your girlfriend's holding up."
"I guess fine." I shrugged. Among the chaos that was my life recently there was at least that one thing I was sure about. That made feel better.
And not that I would tell anyone, but talking to Dad once in a while actually helped too.
"Yukino-san's damn fine," Mom looked positively shocked. "Kinda too formal and by-the-book for my taste, but holy moly. She picks up everything instantly."
"P-please don't exaggerate," Behind her Yuki, still in one of Mom's aprons, shyly blushed.
"I'm not! Come check some."
One look at the table was enough to confirm that: besides Mom's staple hamburg steak, nanban chicken and tuna salad there was also a pasta bowl, green and smelling of cheese, and a tomato soup. As much as I was yucked by the latter I let it slide yet again. Was Yuki trolling me?..
Well, even if she was.
The decision to let it slide proved damn right: the soft creamy soup, rich with all the right flavors, practically melted in my mouth, making me forget tomatoes were there in the first place. Even Komachi, who already had the chance to taste Yuki's cooking, looked like she was about to have a food-gasm and start describing the meal's amazing quality, Erina style. The taste was so good Dad's face showed something other than bored indifference for a change. Mom was basically ecstatic.
"Yuki?"
"Hm?"
"...Thanks for the food."
If it was even possible she blushed even more.
"Don't mention it."
"Hachiman, you really hit a jackpot."
"Mom..." I cringed. "She's more than that, you know."
That made her pause.
"Hmmm... Komachi told me you're so serious about her lately. I couldn't believe it at first. I mean, It's like saying Santa Claus exists. But now... I'm convinced. You'd be real dumb to let go of her, you know. Let's enjoy the meal."
After finishing up dinner I went up to my room, listening with half an ear as Mom was telling Yuki she'd go look for the family albums. Now, still shuddering at the thought, I slowly started digging up various boxes and packages to pack my stuff. Let's see, spare uniform, pants, some more pants, dress shirts, t-shirts, underwear, some more underwear (as per Sensei's advice)...
The resulting pile actually neatly fit into the hiking backpack that indeed was hidden in my closet. Sighing, I looked at the desk. This one also was from Ikea. Meaning I could easily disassemble it on my own, just like I did back then. Great, now on to packing my stationery...
My eyes fell on Vita-chan, still lying on the desk with the charger plugged in. Should I take it? Should I not? I finally settled on the former. Long train rides wouldn't be so boring.
Thinking about train rides led my thought process to a rather related notion.
I have been commuting to school on my trusty bike for quite some time already, since junior high in fact. The bike lane along Hanamigawa led almost to my block, and from its crossing with Kaihin-Oodori Soubu High was a stone throw away. Being relocated to Funabashi was rather inconvenient. Just how inconvenient though? If my estimations were correct, riding to school would now take around 45 minutes instead of my normal 17. Thrice longer, but I was confident in my stamina.
But what about Yuki?
Would it be me biking and her taking the train then?
That seemed like an option... Let's see. She would have to ride to Keisei-Inage. If my memory of Keisei line zoning was correct, they still were in the same commute zone, meaning 250-ish yen give or take. A quick search on my phone showed me I was almost correct: 260 yen. That's if you don't have a monthly commuter pass, which makes it cheaper, though I wasn't sure how much.
From Keisei-Inage awaited a long walk to school, or another 200 yen or so if you took Keisei bus. Four weeks a month, five school days... The number on my phone's calculator wasn't inspiring: 6 to 10 thousand yen.
Could we afford it?
On the other hand, where would I get a bike for Yuki? Heh, that one's actually easy. Komachi kinda never got to use hers so it was stashed somewhere home waiting for better times.
That required a consultation with Yuki.
As I hauled the backpack downstairs I found Mom, Yuki and Komachi gushing and giggling over one of the albums. Well, to be precise, Mom and Komachi gushing and giggling and Yuki just smiling. As much as I hated anyone looking into my childhood photos (who would've like them anyway? I didn't), Yuki needed all the relief and distraction available right now.
"Oh, Hachiman, you're done already? One more thing." Mom got up from the sofa and made a beeline to the kitchen.
"Yukino-san told me you're starting to cook. What's next, you're a company CEO in disguise? So, here you go." She handed me a small but heavy bundle. "My old cookbook and our spare santoku. You'll know what to do with those."
"Uhh..."
Well.
Whatever.
"Of course I will ride with you." Yuki sternly told me. The effect was undermined by the preceding dozen seconds of her standing with her eyes closed, obviously fighting her inner demons and battling the grueling fact of her nigh-absent stamina. Her face was very telling at the moment. During the harsh times I had to battle the burden of social interactions or going to part-time jobs again I had exactly the same face.
I totally related to that, Yuki. If that made you feel any better.
"Are you sure?"
"Even if we can afford extra money for the commuting, it's either us both on the train or both riding the bikes."
"Well..."
"I'll be fine!" She retorted angrily, but then looked sideways and quietly added: "Probably..."
"Okay then..." I slowly said. "I can lay off MAX Coffee if you don't make it...Save the money, for, you know..."
Yuki looked at me with blank eyes, then suddenly started giggling.
"What? Making a noble sacrifice here-"
"It's like Gift of the Magi all over again," Yuki finally uttered. That made me smile too.
"Yeah. Appreciate the irony."
As I finished putting out all my clothes into the newly installed organizer rack, Yuki was just done copying what few mutual contacts we had into her new whatsitsname smartphone; fortunately au's shop had plans with phones included, so Yuki signed to one of them with minimum calls and maximum data.
"Almost there," she somehow sensed my gaze without looking, "I'll have to send a note to Yuigahama-san."
"Patiently waiting for you, that's our Yuigahama. Didn't even send me anything."
"She is like that," Yuki nodded. "Our Yuigahama-san... and sent."
"'Our', eh..."
"Our friend Yuigahama-san." Yuki touched her chin. "I do feel awkward for not inviting her to help us move."
"So she would drop something all the time?"
"Meeeeanieeee!" Yuki made an almost perfect imitation. "Or something to that effect. She's better than tha-"
Bzz
"Oh. Alre-"
Bzz
Bzz
BzzBzz
Bzz
"Yuigahama-san?.."
Bzz
Bzz
Bzz
Finally Yuki's phone became quiet. She looked at it, touched her temples, showed an exasperated smile, like that of a tired mother to her bubbly child, and sighed.
"I suppose I will respond to that."
"I suppose so too."
Not knowing what to do, I just idly roamed to the only window.
We were located on the second floor, so fortunately the view was better than it could be: around a dozen of nearby homes' roofs instead of just the road and a small fishing accessories shop across. Going to my home and back again took some three hours more, so the sun was already starting to set. A muffled noise from the passing train partially overtook the occasional buzzing of Yuki's phone as she chatted with Yuigahama. Several cyclists passed by below.
Turning my head back I took a look at our new home, or a nest, or whatever one may call it; not much effort to do that, really. White walls, a rack, my reassembled desk with Yuki typing on her phone, a wall shelf with two futons, another wall shelf with our clothes, a folded family kotatsu in the corner.
We were going to live here now.
True, I could always call Sensei or my parents, but...
We were going to live here now. I probably would need some time to comprehend that.
"Maybe we should take a walk or something..." I mused aloud.
"Actually I was about to suggest it," Yuki replied stashing her new phone.
"Feeling uneasy, right?"
"...Right. Take me for a walk," Yuki rose up, opened the shelf and took our coats. With those she turned to me: "as everyone turns over, troubled in their dreams again."
"Uhhh... It's just past six."
"It was a quote. My apologies." Yuki shook her head.
After locking our apartment's door shut (our apartment's door) we went down the flimsy rusty stairs, then headed left, to the station; Yuki took my hand, I gently squeezed it. Small two-storey private houses gave way to high-rise condos at almost exactly this point, making some sort of a border between the worlds. Both me and Yuki were semi-consciously turning our heads left and right, taking in sights, remembering new landmarks and learning to navigate in a new neighborhood. While no one was particularly keen to talking, I felt more relaxed now. Judging by Yuki's grip on my hand becoming more soft the same was true for her.
Just like all our dates. We probably both could call it our favorite part. Bonus points for not needing to hide from everyone anymore.
Just as I thought that I spotted something familiar. A silverish mane of hair tied in a loose ponytail was moving in front of us now, having turned from some backstreet. The mane belonged to a tall girl in casual clothes determinedly walking to the station entrance.
Just as I was thinking if I should greet her or not, Saki Kawasaki turned to check something and spotted us.
"...Yo."
"Hey." I awkwardly replied back.
"Good evening, Kawasaki-san." Yuki greeted her.
Kawasaki in turn gauged us both with a puzzled look on her face, but then raised her brows in recognition.
"Not hiding anymore, I take it? Congrats."
"Thanks?" I half-asked, still not knowing how to conduct myself. Kawasaki just shrugged. "Returning from work?"
"Nah, meeting Taishi at the station. He forgot his commuter pass." After a pause she asked: "You? Going on a date?"
"Actually..." Yuki paused awkwardly. "We've just moved here."
"Really? 'We', huh... What about your fa..." Kawasaki squinted. "Need a job?"
Yuki, while taken aback by the other girl having caught on, carefully let go of my hand, sighed and bowed.
"Yes. I would appreciate any recommendations."
"That bad, huh," Kawasaki definitely was stunned, then appeared pondering on something. "How about Lawson over there then? I'm actually about to start a shift there right now."
"Do they even have vacancies?" I hesitantly asked.
"Are you dumb? Everyone does. Everyone's understaffed because population's declining. You don't follow news or what?"
"Sorry, sorry."
"Uhhh... No prob," She just sighed. "Didn't mean it like that."
"When can you introduce us?" Yuki asked.
"Right after I come back from the station," Kawasaki shrugged.
"We will wait then."
"Sure. Gotta admit, never pinned you as a working type though..."
That last bit definitely was unnecessary. Was she still somewhat bitter after that meetup at Angel Ladder?..
I felt Yuki tense beside me.
"Kawasaki-san, what if I told you Mother had forced no less than five different employers to chase me away after she found out I took part-timing?"
That made Kawasaki pause and just stare back at her.
"... Huh. Guess your mom's not digging you being independent then. Rich kids... Wait here. I'll be back in five minutes."
"...Do not, I repeat, do not ever leave the till drawer open," the manager's voice kept droning as I was transferring new beer bottles into the fridge shelf. After the employment formalities Yasuda-san, a forty-something lean man with a perpetually tired expression on his face not unlike Dad's, took one look at us and assigned Yuki to Kawasaki as an apprentice cashier. I, of course, was simply told to go outside and wait for the truck with goods for restocking. The truck indeed arrived not five minutes later; all I remembered afterwards was look at the cargo bay, see one box or another coming at me, take it, look for a place to put it, put it, rinse, repeat. When the driver finally said goodbye and the truck left I was still standing there listening to muted pulsing pain going through me. Human body has so many muscles. A couple unloading sessions like this and I think I'll learn them all.
Then Yasuda-san came soon after, took a look at all the pallets, said "great" and motioned for me to come in with the nearest box. The box contained sealed magazines, which I then sorted and correctly laid out on the rack before the entrance under my new manager's dull-sounding but surprisingly detailed instructions, all the while trying not to get in the customers' way as much as possible. At least the last part was easy.
Then I returned with pallets of beer while Yasuda-san was giving instructions to Yuki.
Next up were three cases of canned tea.
Then packed bentos.
Then deep-fried food for the heater at the registers.
Then chewing gums, hairbrushes, cosmetics, prepaid game cards, batteries, flashcards...
About one hour in I knew that literally every corner of the tiny convenience store's inner space held correctly placed items that belonged there and only there; that the chime signalling someone's entry or exit got grating and mind-numbing too fast for my comfort; that the bubbly pop on the constantly turned on radio had probably lowered my IQ by five points or so; and that Yuki's "Welcome!"'s and "Free cashier, please line up here"'s and "should I warm it up for you?"'s and "Exact change, thank you"'s surprisingly were still nice to hear even after a dozen customers she had served with only minor input from Kawasaki.
Also I never knew the Lawson uniform would look stupid good on her.
Another thirty minutes later I suddenly found myself idly staring outside, into the dark, feeling the bright lights of the interior with my skin, listening to but not really hearing something by Momoiro Clover Z playing on the radio, accompanied by Yuki and Kawasaki quietly chatting. No Yasuda-san was in sight. An office lady came in with another woman in sneakers, jeans and a coat. The office lady grabbed a bento, the other woman a set of band-aids. Yuki, while quick and nimble, already was looking sleepy and tired. Both women smiled back at her and headed for the exit; I overheard them quietly discussing "that new cashier girl, nice right? such gorgeous hair! a total beauty!". I followed them with my eyes until they exited, not sure what to make of it.
Yasuda-san chose that exact time to appear to show me how to organize the goods after they were misplaced by the customers; another hour flew by.
The only semi-remarkable event was when a tall overweight foreigner in (probably) his thirties came in to buy a natto roll and a bottle of tea. As he was heading to Yuki he noticed something in a fridge and fished out a bottle of Coca Cola Clear, his face so surprised he may as well have found an elixir of youth. Shaking his head he went on to buying his items, as well as ordering a croquette from the heating shelf; his Japanese was decent but I couldn't pinpoint the accent. After paying for everything and, for some reason, smiling and bowing back to the cashiers he exited, stopped outside to take a photo of the bottle, then disappeared typing something on the phone.
Then came the last bout of sorting stuff and refreshing the contents of the heating shelf and I finally found myself standing outside, an envelope with my wage in my pocket, waiting for Yuki to get changed.
Some time later she appeared along with Kawasaki.
"... a real convenient grocery shop with time sales at around five just a block away," I heard Kawasaki say.
"I will keep that in mind. Honestly, thank you."
"Don't make it a big deal," Kawasaki flinched in turn. "You're a fellow working gal now. And, you know... not so bad."
"My, thank you for a compliment," Yuki tiredly smiled and lightly bowed. "See you tomorrow."
"Nah, I have a shift at another place, so the day after. G'night." Kawasaki replied, nodded back and headed to the station. Yuki meanwhile approached me, her gait unsteady and tired. After making two more steps she bumped face first into my chest, then looked up and raised her hand, her fingers holding some invisible object.
"Beep," She muttered after making a scanning motion around my nose. "One Hachi. The sum total is one hug. Should I warm him up for you?"
"Yes please," I sighed in relief and hugged her. "Tired?"
"Very." She leaned into me and rubbed her head into my shoulder. "I suppose you had it worse, though."
"Kinda. Go home?"
"Hm... Home," Yuki pondered. "Yes. Let's. We have leftover food from your parents for dinner, so I have picked two bentos and two bottles of tea for breakfast tomorrow, 1400 yen total. My payment for today is 3200. I suppose so should be yours. We'll have to check out that grocery store as soon as practical."
"Not today?"
"... No." She leaned into me even more. "I don't think I can make it. I'm barely alive to return and have a shower."
"I get you," I gloomily replied. "I totally do. God I don't want to work."
At least that made her laugh.
The apartment didn't feel uneasy anymore.
I don't think anyone could feel uneasy when they're so overwhelmingly tired.
I now idly sat on the floor beside our laid out futons, staring at the wall and listening to the music on my phone as Yuki was taking a shower. Our leftover dinner was beside a fridge right now; I still had to unfold our kotatsu which was resting by the adjacent wall and for that I had to somehow force myself to stand up. After a minute of an epic struggle worthy of a whole shounen anime season, I finally approached the furniture in question, heavily set it down and unfolded its legs.
Some time later Yuki exited the bathroom, her hair wrapped in a towel. For a second I thought she herself would also be wearing just a towel around the body, but since we also agreed to use the bathroom for changing she was now clad in comfy-looking striped pajama pants and a parka with cat paw prints. I couldn't help but smile at that.
"Bath is ready..." Yuki uttered, but then shickered: "... I mean, the shower stall."
"Alright." I replied heavily rising up. "Gonna miss my bath a lot."
"Oh, don't remind me," Yuki shook her head, though her tone remained cheeful.
"Maybe we can go to my folks to have a nice bath on weekends."
"Probably will be cheaper than public bath too."
"Damn right."
As I was standing under a stream of hot water, letting it warm up my body and relax my muscles, I for the umpteenth time thought about our situation. Not that school students living independently was that much of a big deal nowadays. Though maybe not all of them cut the ties to their families that thoroughly. We now had to plan so many things, break so many habits to learn new ones: go working, arrange showering (as well as doing our laundry too, I mentally added glancing at the washing machine), cooking, cleaning, budgeting... And on top of it all, my inner voice added with a distinct giggle, tomorrow we had to go to school as if nothing happened. That almost made me feel like some mecha shounen protagonist. You can fight giant monsters, respond to your preferably hot commanding officer, save the world, save the girl... and go to school. Because nothing was more important than school.
Unlike the aforementioned protagonists I didn't even get to save the world. Hell, I was barely scraping by trying to save the girl.
We ate our dinner in tired silence, then dimmed the ligths and both settled ourselves on our futons: Yuki still with Heavy Object, me with my Vita. I didn't feel I had enough energy to read anything meaningful.
Just as I was staring at the home screen, pondering what to play, I felt a light pressure on my shoulder accompanied by the nice aroma of an apple shampoo. Yuki snuggled up by my side and was now looking at my portable console with silent interest.
"What, never seen a Vita before?"
"Not up close."
"Mother never let you?"
"Actually not, though I'm not certain about that. I just never quite picked an interest."
"Wanna try?"
"To tell you the truth..." Yuki pondered. "I wouldn't mind. As it turns out I don't have enough energy to concentrate on reading now."
"Heh. Same. Lessee what's suitable for you... Project Diva?"
"Since I don't know what it is... maybe?"
"A rhythm game. Tap the buttons in time."
"I think I can manage that much," Yuki nodded to herself.
"Alright then..." I started the game, selected New and picked up the save slots. "Those are your save slots. Switching profiles on Vita is kinda pain..."
"Understood."
"Let me show you."
I fired up the tutorial and tapped through Levan Polka, noticing Yuki's reaction at the corner of my eye. She was following the arrows and buttons on screen, eyes slightly wide, sometimes nodding to herself. If she recognized chance times, long taps and rhythm cues in one go I wouldn't be surprised.
"Something like that."
"Oh. I think I got it." Yuki sat on her knees beside me. "Can I try?"
"Yeah-" I agreed but then a thought crossed my mind. "Just, maybe sit on my lap... if it's okay. It's just... I feel like lately we're not... you know..."
"Alright." Yuki stood up and, seeing my gaze, gently smiled: "I agree. I do feel like lately we're not 'you know' too."
Seeing I stretched my legs, Yuki carefully sat down on my lap; without really thinking I wrapped my hands around her waist, nuzzling her hair.
Much as I was tired and still somewhat anxious, the next hour and a half or so erased the gloomy thoughts entirely. Yuki, relaxed in my hands, was clearing songs one by one on Normal, then Hard, then Extreme; did I get myself a personal High Score Girl, I briefly wondered before shrugging. Her head was slightly bobbing up to the rhythms, tickling my nose and making me weirdly giddy. In the reflection on Vita's screen her smile was clearly visible.
Several buzzes on my phone were messages from, surprisingly, both Mom and Dad, asking if everything was alright, reminding I could always ask for help and wishing me good night. I replied everything was fine.
My musings were interrupted by Yuki putting the half-drained console away and stifling a yawn.
"School's tomorrow."
"Yeah. Waking up at half past five," I shuddered at the thought. A whole half an hour earlier than I usually did, and it's not like I loved waking up early all that much. I suppressed a very gloomy sigh capable of turning whole towns depressive.
Seeing that Yuki knelt beside me and caressed my cheek. As I turned to her in a mild wonder, she closed in and gave me a tender kiss; something we haven't done in ages, it felt. Letting myself relax, I held her close, stroking her lithe slender back, letting her trace my face with her delicate fingers.
"A kiss goodnight. "Yuki shyly said after we broke the kiss, now looking into my eyes as we stayed forehead to forehead. "'The sky will clear again after the rain'. Now I finally feel like it."
"Another quote?"
"Correct."
"Which one?"
"An old English band called Comsat Angels."
"And that one about troubled in their dreams or something too?.."
"No," she shook her hand. "An equally old English band called The Cure."
"... Huh."
"'...Huh' as in 'Weird for me to listen to those'? I can explain, just... not right now. Will you listen some time later?"
"Of course." I yawned. "Night."
"Night."
Totally didn't happen:
I have known Yuki for almost a year now and slowly became desensitized to her looks, even before asking her out. I would be the first one to attest, after all the verbal prickling I've endured from her, that Yuki was the living breathing example of looks not being everything. Yet I still distinctly remembered that first time I saw her up close: her elegance, her refined gestures befitting a princess, her calmly concentrated look...
Let them be then. And may I have willpower to endure all the stupid "gosh, where did you get such a pretty girl?".
Take my Dad for example. Right now he was already opening his mouth to ask exactly tha-
"So Yukinoshita as in the Yukinoshita?"
-great. Out of the two elephants in the room-
"I'm right. She's the Yukinoshita! I see the resemblance!"
...Dad?
I couldn't even recognize the man before my eyes. Who is this triumphant maniacally laughing person?
"Serves him! Serves him! First he swoons all the girls in our college year, then he dares lay hands on my dear Ayahi! I took her from him and my son will take his precious daughter! How do you like that you rich scumbag! Ahahahaha!"
"...Dear?" Mom chimed in, entirely unflapped by the sudden display.
"What?"
"Kids are watching."
"Oh? Oh good. Let them, let them!" Dad energetically stood up and headed for the kitchen. "This is a story to tell over the finest white tea we have!"
A/N: Shoot me again, I ain't dead yet. In other good news: endgame! You can trust me on that! Unlike Watari.