A/N: Woot! Chapter Two! I'll be naming all the chapters after songs in my playlist. The first one was Just My Way by YUI; this one is Transient Future by Megurine Luka. Just in case anyone was interested, or wanted to know what I'm doing when this is running through my head. I would write a comprehensive list of all my songs that inspire me, but we would be here forever. The easiest way to put it is that… I have every song YUI and Utada Hikaru have ever recorded, an insane number of VOCALOID songs, all the OST music and character songs from UtaPri and Hetalia, the full OSTs from VK and all the Kingdom Hearts games… uhm…. About three quarters of Miyano Mamoru's songs (I am seriously addicted to his beautiful voice), and Gackt… 96neko, VALSHE, Pokota, Vin…. A ton of Adele; everything Marianas Trench, Cinema Bizarre, and Tokio Hotel have released. Evanescence's album Fallen, a bunch of random Florence + The Machine, Gorillaz, Muse, Three Days Grace, EXO, GOT7, MIB, SHINee, LAMA, School Food Punishment, Do As Infinity…. Plus the soundtracks from The Little Mermaid, Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron, and The Swan Princess. And then a bunch of miscellaneous Beethoven, Bach, Handel, Mozart, et cetera. Some nameless piano solos that I really liked, and some that I kind of didn't but downloaded anyway…. Uhm. I said I wasn't going to do this, but I did anyway! SUMANAKATTA! *bows deeply*
xXXx
Your Heaven
Chapter Two – Transient Future
It was quiet; since the night had settled in the number of customers had decreased greatly and Yoshino left her place behind the plexi-glass window to don her fur-lined coat and scarf, slipping into her leather gloves and tucking her long dark hair under her hat. As she left out the front doors, she gave Zero a small wave and he returned it languidly. Without another word, Yoshino stepped out to where her boyfriend waited for her with an umbrella to keep the snow off. He kissed her, and they walked off hand in hand with broad grins.
Zero huffed. Like he really wanted to see that. But he shrugged it off; he'd seen it three days a week for the last fifteen weeks, and the deeper into winter it got, the more they sickened him. Maybe it was because of how Yoshino bragged when her boyfriend wasn't around—she had him wrapped around her finger, and he did whatever she wanted; basically she treated him like her slave and that was what made Zero sick. That she strung that poor guy along and leeched off him because she was young and lovely and he was hopelessly in love. That was something he would never understand—giving up everything for someone who was just going to hurt you in the end.
When had he become so jaded? When Ichiru was murdered? Or maybe before that. He didn't remember anymore.
There was a whoosh and a jingle. Zero looked up to see a dark-haired man in a tan trench coat and a fancy suit step inside, brushing the snow off his sleeves. He'd seen this guy come in a few times. He was tall and comely with chocolate brown hair and rust-coloured eyes, pale skin that was flawless all except for the bags and the listless look that told Zero he was clearly not getting enough rest. Not that he cared at all. It just struck him as odd that someone wearing a suit that cost more than three months' rent at the place he was sharing a ten minute train ride from the Grab 'N' Go, was there with that exhausted look buying bentos and energy drinks.
Maybe he's cheating on his wife. He dismissed it that easily. Corporate douchebags didn't actually do enough work to merit that kind of fatigue.
"That'll be fifteen hundred yen," Zero frowned as he bagged the stack of bentos separately from the energy drinks and took the man's money. He took his bags and left without a word, and it didn't bother Zero at all to watch him leave without even thanking him. Whatever. The working class existed simply to be the slaves of the higher-ups, right? He was even worse than working class. He was an ex-convict with a partially part-time job and a hate on for just about everything and everyone. He was a class all his own, not quite a street rat and not quite a worker. He was just dangling dangerously in between on a dilapidated precipice that threatened to give way and tear what semblance of the life he had into little pieces.
At eleven, Yamakawa showed up to take the graveyard shift and Zero walked home now that he'd missed the last train. He'd picked up his paycheque on the way out and tore open the envelope so he could deposit it on the way, pleasantly surprised when he saw his holiday bonus had been tacked on as well. Maybe just this one time he could be proud of himself and relax. A new outfit, one of his favourite snacks, and then a round of drinks at that bar that he'd been eyeing up for the last month; he decided that was how he would spend his next day off, so maybe he could release some of the tension that had been building up lately.
After all, he still had something he wanted to achieve before anyone got too attached to him. He needed to be able to do this and then just slip away like a leaf in a windstorm without anyone missing him. It didn't really matter if he broke hearts or whatever… it was just, when people loved you, that made it hard for them to allow you to do whatever you liked with your life. Once Zero had accomplished the one thing he had left in this world to strive for, he planned to take the loser's way out without any shame or regret whatsoever. His parents were gone, his brother was gone, rumours refused to die down and here he was working a dead-end job in a convenience store.
There wasn't anything left for him that he wanted to hold onto desperately, something that would make him want to live any longer than absolutely necessary. This world was junk. He couldn't wait to be excused.
When he finally got back to the apartment he was sharing with a guy who was almost never around as he attended university and still somehow had time to hit the clubs with his harem of female friends, it was almost one in the morning and he went to the fridge for a glass of milk and a container of leftover fried rice that he'd made a few nights ago. Tentatively, he opened the container, sniffed it, fluffed it with a pair of cheap wooden chopsticks, then microwaved it for a minute and a half so it was heated but not hot enough to burn his mouth.
There was nothing on TV besides bad cable porn and Letterman, so he opted out for the night, eating in silence under the orange lamplight with a three day old newspaper, resting on the arm of a ratty sofa. Where had Kaito picked this thing up? A Salvation Army or something; either way, there was a reason why someone had dumped it, and that made Zero appreciate the Febreeze Set 'N' Refresh sets that he'd invested in. The sweet but tart Hawaiian Breeze scent was the only thing that covered the smell of beer on their living room furniture.
Finally, an hour after he'd arrived home, Zero dragged his half-asleep corpse onto a lumpy mattress with one broken spring, after changing into a pair of second-hand pajama pants. Wrapped in a quilt that had a hole near the bottom where he kept getting his foot caught, Zero considered himself lucky. Three months ago he'd been released from jail with nothing. Now he had a job with a little money, a roof to sleep under, food to eat, and the freedom to stew in his hatred of that woman, Shizuka Hio.
xXXx
He was finally getting to go home for the first time in five days. Three months ago his wife had given him the ultimatum, and Kaname had done his best to make it home once in a while just to keep her happy. Three evenings a week—that was all Yuuki wanted, and he'd promised to give it to her. This was the first time in three months that he'd broken that and he'd managed to stop by the jeweller's to pick up a little gift for her, so maybe it would ease the tension that he knew would hit like a brick wall as soon as he walked in the door.
On the way home he made an attempt to call her, but Yuuki didn't answer which was strange, but maybe she was making dinner, so he dismissed it easily. Five o'clock. A half hour later, he rolled up into a traffic jam, caused by a head-on collision between two eighteen-wheelers with a huge explosion and no survivors. He rubbed his forehead deftly, tried to call Yuuki again. Still no answer. They were probably eating without him. He turned the radio on to pass the time, but he was starting to feel agitated, which he chalked up to his growling stomach and cracked open one of the bentos he'd just bought at the Grab 'N' Go. He remembered the scowl on the cashier's face—only because the kid might've been handsome if he'd been a little more pleasant.
But that was the thing with kids these days, especially those in what was considered the Working Class. They always had some kind of grudge against something. Wearing what was obviously old hand-me-downs, Kaname figured that the scowl probably had something to do with his sticking his nose in a cheap convenience store while he was still dressed in the same expensive suit he'd worn the last four days in a row, or maybe more. He looked around just to make sure no one was watching, and then ducked his head to sniff his shirt. He didn't particularly smell bad…. But he really hadn't had time to go through his closet lately; whenever he slept at home he always found himself crucially late for work and rushed to get to the office before anyone noticed. Karen couldn't cover for him forever; people started to get suspicious after a while.
Still, even glowering, the cashier had potential in modelling or something; he probably just needed that leg up. Kaname knew how hard it could be to get that, having gone to school with friends who were constantly complaining that their parents couldn't quite make the bill payments, friends who had to turn down his party invitations because they had to work at the age of only fifteen, friends who asked to borrow a couple bucks for lunch because their rent left them broke…. He hadn't quite understood why they had so much trouble in life until his father lost his job and they immediately downsized to a two bedroom house on the corner of Pine and Queens instead of the Kuran Estate that he'd been raised on. Suddenly his mom was working full time as a DSW and had no more time for her hobby as an artist and a humanitarian, and his father was a security guard at the local mall. It was as if everything had fallen apart in a flash, and there he was, flipping burgers at a fast food joint to save for college.
He complained about bills, turned down party invitations, bummed money from his friends.
Finally he had wormed his way through college on a strict diet of Cheetos and Mr. Noodles, married his high school sweetheart, and then forced his way to the top of Ichijou & Sons' state branch. He didn't have a great house, but it had a mostly finished basement, three bedrooms of below average size, a kitchen that worked, one and a half bathrooms that always seemed to be occupied…. He sighed heavily. He loved his family and he wanted the best he could offer them; that meant he had to better than he was already to get that position as CEO. They all needed that promotion, whether Yuuki thought so or not.
Traffic started to move again, he tried to call home one more time. No answer. It was eight-thirty and he speculated that Yuuki was probably putting the twins to bed. They had school in the morning, after all. He thought about what he would do when he got back home, parked in the carport and went in through the side door. He'd kick his shoes off in the mud room, then go through the kitchen and down the hall, into Yuuko's bedroom to kiss her forehead, then into Kanako's to do the same. He'd go downstairs, cover Katsura up because he always kicked his blankets off in his sleep, then smooth his hair off his face and return to the first floor. Then he'd finally go into the master bedroom, disrobe, and slip into bed beside his wife, who would wake just enough to accept the bracelet in the little box, kiss him happily, and then they would cuddle up and fall asleep together.
Perfect.
As expected, when he arrived home, the lights were all off. He smiled to himself and went up the stairs to the door, kicked his shoes off in the mudroom, then went into the kitchen and into Yuuko's room. Her bed was neatly made, but her stuffed animals were gone along with the stack of sketchbooks that used to live on her desk. Confused, he wandered into Kanako's room where his heart jumped. The clothes that usually lay strewn about on the floor were gone; there were discoloured areas where all her soccer medals had hung on the wall, and the picture she'd had of her and her daddy on their first and only fishing trip had disappeared. Now frantic, he ran down the stairs, taking them two at a time until he hit the bottom, throwing open the door to Katsura's cave where the furnace purred quietly. No Katsura. None of his anime or manga or the little machines he tinkered with.
He didn't have to check his own bedroom. Defeated, he went up to the kitchen to look for the bottle of vodka that they kept in the freezer and found the note on the counter instead.
Gone to Mom and Dad's. You had your chance and you blew it.
I'm sending the divorce papers to your office since you'd rather be married to your work. Thank you for letting us all down. Please don't call me.
Yuuki
There was a punch in his gut that made him lose his breath, and he choked for a moment. This was the icing on the cake—he'd known that Yuuki was serious, he never doubted it… he just… didn't think she would actually file for divorce….
She'd taken the vodka, too….
This was going to be a hard night.