CHAPTER:

III

Home And Process

At the distance, I could hear a rather feminine scream. Apparently, I guess that someone had messed with the wrong person on a major scale. However, despite I was curious on who it was, I didn't have the time in order to do so, because If I'm quick enough. I might confirm my suspicions as I pass by the body.

Unfortunately, the possibilities are slim, especially if you spend your entire morning at school. I could run there if I want, but that makes me only suspicious. Plus, I'm that type of person who believe appearances are everything (most of the time).

"Yuki?"

I stopped and turned to my right. Hidden by the school gate was a boy with voided eyes. His name was Mitsou Kubo according to my research; apparently he has been lurking around the school grounds for sometime now.

"Your not Yuki?" he spoke with lazy disappointment, but even though he was tired, there was a sense of simmering anger from him as though I did some wrong to him.

"Indeed." I spoke while nodding to his statement. "Wrong time; wrong place it seems…"

"Whatever." He rudely dismissed. Raising a hand in front of my face. He looked like he wanted to threaten me. "I'm here only for Yuki, so go away…"

"Understandable, but I won't intervene."

"What do you mean by that?"

"In simple terms, you will eventually learn, but adieu since you're wasting my time."

Honesty does hurt; I could see him burst a nerve. He will learn his lesson, but I expected he wouldn't take it so well. That's the reason I gave him a cryptic remark. Plus, I'm not a big fan on elaborating the details unless it involves with me or my curiosity.

The blue sheets were up, I was too late. They had taken down the body already, what a disappointment.

"So that high schooler left school early, and as she came down this street, she saw the dead body."

"Wow, who could imagine that hanging from an antenna?"

"I wanted to see it too."

Oh you should. That was the line I wanted to announce, but considering there were police here, I better keep my mouth shut.

"Move along people." A policeman requested, but his words fall on death ears. Housewives tend to be the gossipy bunch, so they tend to stick around more than anyone else. For me, I'm a student; I have to oblige to those rules. Besides, I got what I need, so there's no point of me sticking around.

Sometime later, I arrived at the family noodle shop. My father's idea for a retirement plan despite he was still in his early forties.

"Hi honey!" he cheerfully greeted. He wore an apron with a sweater and jeans. In front of the counter were two businessmen, both minding their business by eating their ramen.

"Dad. The stock is over-boiling."

"Crap!" was his reply. I guess he was so focused on waiting for my return that he nearly forgot that he left the stove on boil.

My dad can be a scatterbrain, but he does truly love me. Even though I set our relationship at a distance, it doesn't stop him from to be part of my life.

"By the way, how was school?" He asked. A whistle was made to indicate he was relieved.

"Okay…" I shrugged, "I met this guy."

"What guy?" he raised a black eyebrow. A typical father dilemma if you ask me.

"Some guy from the city with silver hair. Yu Narukami was his name…"

"And are you attracted to this Yu Narukami fellow from the city?" He inquired.

Now, that was a tough question to answer. I just met the guy for a few seconds. Typically, I'm only interested to the peculiar characters of the guilty or troubled type, but since his name was out in the open, I should better answer the question.

"Yes."

His jaw just dropped. I could imagine the tears began to flow. My dad, with me, has always been over-reactive. His beliefs were that I was growing up too fast for him.

I excused myself and told him I would be upstairs. Our house was located up there.

I walked to the back where the door to the stairs was located, took off my shoes and began to climb on them.

The stop I landed was our conjoint living room and kitchen. This consisted as our ground floor along with the home office; bathroom, two guest rooms and my dad's bedroom that were in different separate rooms. My bedroom is also the attic, a gift from my grandfather when he told me that a girl's needs her own private floor.

"He had always been a sweet-talker." I remembered my aunt spoke once about him. She's the head-chef of a five-star restaurant somewhere in a city I can't remember. My grandfather decided to live with her when my dad decided to retire. So far, my younger cousins enjoy his company and food last I heard.

I pulled down the ladder and climbed up. They closed itself once I entered my room.

There's not much to say of my room except it was rather simplistic regarding in design.

Hard wooden floors; rustic beams. A large window occupied one section of a wall and a couple of Edison light bulbs that hanged off along the ceiling beam. My dad spent a large amount trying to get the electricity supplied into this particular room, and the furniture I owned also need some cleaning too.

I placed my bag on a shelf that held all my accessories. Connected to it was my clothes rack where I hung most of my everyday clothes. I have a desk where my I do my work in generally. On top of it was my laptop and printer. Behind it was a couple of rather generic picture I collected from the attic.

Next, my bed was a futon, nothing special.

Lastly, for the oddest reason I questioned myself, is a rather retro looking TV I found in the attic. It doesn't work since my grandfather mentioned it broke around the mid-eighties. However what made me kept it was reason beyond the unknown; half the time I believe my mind is an enigma itself.

I crouched; sat and sprawled myself on the floor. I would sometimes do this when I'm in deep thought, the process of figuring out my next move. I could examine the picture, but a part of me doesn't want to. The reason why is that, I believe the news will say something about it soon. My instincts tell me that it's the announcer; however what now occupies my thoughts was the girl who had found her.