Chapter 13:
Two weeks later
As I dashed away from school, a soaring feeling erupted inside of me. At that very moment, the planets had aligned, and the moon, oddly visible in the sky, beamed rays of optimism and excitement. I imagined the entire planet was now being showered in light that illuminated every dark corner and crevice the world tried to use as a barrier to contain its ecstasy.
Okay, so my ten-year old mind overloaded itself on soda, hard candy, and every type of diabetic crap. I was a kid for goodness' sake.
It's not like the thought ever crossed my mind that I'd be seeing my dad a lot. Sure, he'd get ticked off, and slap me across the face every once in a while, but that's the kind of a thing a lot kids went through in the old days. Sure, their dads weren't usually in drunken stupors during the incidents, but hey, close enough.
In any case, my mind had perished that thought entirely. Inside my juvenile mind, I laid out my summer ambitions in great detail. This was difficult because I knew I didn't have the money to do half-the-stuff I wanted, but it's the thought that counts.
Nevertheless, my father didn't bother me at that point. He'd actually been acting nicer to me lately. While my prior interactions with my father blurred together like soup riddled with worms and maggots, rarely could I recall a point where my father had actually put down the bottle for his messy-haired "brat". Maybe this summer would be different.
I stopped me in my trek, puzzling this possibility over for a minute.
Nah, that won't last long. He'll be taking shots before I even have a chance to realize he stopped.
Okay, so that was a bummer. But hey, summer was still happening. It was finally time for me to toss this burden of pain beside my bed, change into some comfortable clothes and "chill". I wasn't sure if I was using the phrase right, but it sounded cool in my head.
Alright, I was dwelling on the wrong things again. Now, let's think this over. Once I get back, I'll rush up to my room, put down my school bag, change into a T-shirt and shorts, and head over to Kotomi's place.
It dawned on me that this mundane after-school schedule had been the definition of my weekdays since I'd met her. That wasn't important, though. I legitimately enjoyed spending time with her, so that wasn't a big deal.
I paused at a random section of the sidewalk. Having scanned my surroundings, I could tell I was within the narrow corridors leading to home. I was making especially good time; it couldn't have been more than seven minutes since I'd left the school. Even so, it wasn't fast enough for me.
Ah, youth. Impatience that bred the inspiration to sprint home to a place of cynicism and rot. It's odd, but sometimes I still miss those days.
Regardless, my younger self had resigned himself to staying happy. Positivity was a good thing; it kept your mind off bad things, and it was what every normal, well-adjusted pre-teen was doing. Now, considering my friendship with the repulsive species known to my peers as "girls", it might sound odd that I was conscientious of what other people thought. But while I might have changed some of my daily habits, hobbies, and conversation topics for the sake of a chuckle from one of my peers, there was no way I was going to be mean to someone to make people happy. If I'd done that, it would suddenly be plausible to feel more hopeless than I did in my worst moments.
Besides these regular fears and anxieties, I was more surprised I didn't think more about what it must be like for Kotomi. Though she'd decided to put aside her paranoia to live normally again, it had only been about a month now that she'd lost her parents. Her guardian had warned me to be gentle with her about certain things because of a couple relapses she'd had; never more firmly had I kept that mysterious old man's advice in mind.
I hadn't thought of this at the time, but maybe I was avoiding the issue. I mean, what kid wanted to deal with the fact your friend might sobbing in the middle of a conversation? I was no expert with people; I just had the luck to have trouble with my parents. And even then, I'd never grown up with my mom and cruel as he was, my dad was still around. Hers, with no warning whatsoever, had died.
I'd comforted her once. This gave me a limited amount of solace from the conflict.
But not completely. The worst thing I thought could possibly happen would be for her to shut me out completely.
Right, summer.
When I reached home, I slid the rusty door open a bit hastier than usual. A quick mental reminder was all it took to remind me to close the thing again. As it turned out, my cynicism had been misplaced.
Sort of.
Instead of the stench of alcohol, tobacco reeked through our shared living quarters. I'd seen my dad smoke from time to time, but he much preferred beer. Cigarettes didn't knock you out like a bottle of hard liquor would.
Curious if he was awake or asleep, I snuck my way into the kitchen. My subconscious tried to convince me I was a masochist for wondering such things, but I hardly understood such big words anyway. Had he fallen asleep, or was he in the kitchen?
My old man leaned back against the counter-top. On top stood a six-pack of Budweiser. While the package had clearly been opened, only four still contained amidst the confines of the packaging, beside it lay two unopened beer bottles. Somehow, my dad's resolve had lasted.
Though, judging by the smell in the house, chain-smoking had become his new method of self-destructing.
Attentive (I hadn't fully processed the fact he hadn't been drinking), he turned around to face me. The dark hairs that protruded from paling skin were even thicker than I remembered. He had a thoughtful, quizzical look on his face, like he wasn't sure what to think of the boy with ridiculously large eyes staring at him from down the hall. Maybe this was his odd way of saying hello?
"Tomoya-kun?"
I really didn't like it when he called me that. I wouldn't have minded it if he sounded nice when he said; instead, he sounded isolated. Like I was a fly buzzing in his ear that refused to succumb to his swats.
"You came home rather fast,"
Summer, summer, summer. "School's out today. I was excited, so I ran over here as fast as I could."
He blew a hideously deformed puff of smoke to his right. I never really considered smoking some kind of art, but if it was, modern-artists would have considered my dad a heretic.
"If that's the case," he bit down hard on the white cylinder. "Ya better get started,"
I shook my head like a broken bobble-head. "Sure,"
I ran towards the stairs and booked it to my room. That conversation had been about as unpleasant as I'd expected, but at least I'd get a chance to make the best of what was left.
The manner I dropped my school bag on the floor instead of flinging against the wall was disappointing. On the other hand, my school bag was really heavy, and I didn't feel like vaulting it.
Otherwise, however, my plant went off without a hitch. I ripped off my uniform, grabbed a loose-fitting white T-shirt and a pair of blue shorts, and continued my post-school adventure.
After exiting the house, I followed the dependable path to Kotomi's house. Now, I don't consider myself a genius, but the fact I just happened to stumble upon the rich estate of a girl my age while chasing butterflies was quite the achievement in ignorance. I'd dare say I was hiding semblances of intelligence in that book dumb brain of mine.
Of course, I'm flattering myself; my brain has never been that meta-physical.
Still, the fact the roads surrounding my venture were so quiet made it easy for me to think. Cars may have been more frequent than usual, but they were hardly a disruption. I only had to cross the street once to get to her house anyways.
One thing that did bug me, though, was the fear she'd start up her investigation again for some reason. Maybe a member of her guardian's research team looked at her funny, or one of his geekier scientists giggled while watching Ren and Stimpy. However consequential, I was sure whatever second guesses she would have in my fictional scenario would be ones supported my emotions rather than fact. The irony of a prodigy like her being driven solely by emotion was almost as comical as it was depressing.
Nah, she wouldn't be like that. I just saw her a couple days ago, and she said nothing about that stuff.
Just treat her like you always have . . . Yeah, that's it.
For someone with so precarious of a position as me, tempting fate was like begging for an giant sapient butcher's knife to slice me in two. That exact thought may not have popped into my head, but I did have a rabid fear of sharp objects.
I stepped onto the doormat of the Ichinose manse and rapped softly on the door.
I had expected Kotomi's guardian to answer the door. Instead, I got the charming face of her housekeeper instead.
"Okazaki-san," she droned, her voice about as appealing as fingernails on a chalkboard. "I suspect you've come to this late to make me think you actually stayed at school to take exams, is that correct?"
"Yes on both accounts," I'd completely forgotten the grouchy woman's name. Hopefully, she wouldn't notice. "I probably didn't get the best grades, but I didn't cut."
"I'm glad you've reached such a revered milestone," she eyed me intensely. "And address me by name; it's rude to talk to me like one of your pint-sized buddies."
Shoot. "Is it alright if I come in?"
Her eyes rolled to the back of her skull as she let me through the door. "You're lucky Nishimura-san likes you,"
Closing the door behind me, she returned to dusting the scantly ornamented living room walls. It was odd to see she was so behind on her work, considering how strict and dedicated she acted. Maybe she was just that painstaking about the way she went about her job.
"Tomoya-kun!"
From above, Kotomi waved at me. While having a best friend is far from unusual in a ten-year old boy's life, Kotomi had been the most important thing in my life.
"Kotomi-chan," I smiled, taken aback as she wrapped me in a warm hug. "It's good to see you, too."
Lately, I'd been taking notice of the way girls seemed so oblivious to matters of puberty. While I'd scarcely started to recognize how pretty girls could be, some of my female peers seemed unaware of why such open gestures of affection were awkward. I'm sure Kotomi was just being friendly; after all, she had embraced me like this at least a few times since we first met. It's just, now it was starting to get slightly uncomfortable. In didn't help that I was reminded of my heightened awareness constantly at school; ever since I'd begged Sakura Chitanda to forgive me for acting like a jerk, she'd decided it would be exponentially more interesting to see how I'd react to an overly-flirtatious peer. Needless to say, the gag lost its luster quick, and I found myself cowering behind Takeshi on more than one occasion. And of course, he had the gall to find such displays hilarious.
Luckily, though, I wouldn't have to put up with such shenanigans for around a month and a half. After all, it was summer.
"What would you like to do today?" I asked, trying to hide the red on my face.
"Well, I was thinking my guardian could take us out for frozen yogurt." She beamed brightly. "Would you like to?"
Is she asking me out on a date . . . GAH! Why can't I stay a kid forever?
"S-sure," I fumbled. "We can do that."
On cue, her guardian rushed down the stairs and grabbed his keys and dark coat from hooks on the wall. He may have been able to put on a friendly face, but he apparently liked shielding casual attire in his signature dark colors.
"Good morning, Tomoya-san," it was a little awkward that he'd recently been calling me by my first name, but I had gotten to know him a little since Kotomi's parents died. "What do you say to Kotomi-san's request?"
"I'd like to go," I nodded.
"Great," Kotomi led us to the ominous black vehicle her guardian liked to drive. Just as we were getting there, I remembered something.
"Is it alright if we stop at Furukawa Bakery after the frozen yogurt place?"
"'Furukawa Bakery'?" Her guardian remarked.
"It's a local bread shop a couple blocks south from the mall where the frozen yogurt place is." Kotomi explained. "I heard it's really homely,"
"In that case," Kotomi's guardian started as we jumped into the car. "We better get started,"