Chapter 3

I took a moment to readjust my uniform, and then stepped inside work. I worked at the restaurant, Kurosaki's Place. The owner, Shigure Kurosaki, was a kind man in his late twenties. He had opened the restaurant when he was only 20, and lived in the apartment above it. He had mischievous, twinkling, hazel eyes and thick hair. One would think his nose was too large and crooked for good looks, but he had a certain charm about him.

It had been hard convincing Kurosaki-sempai to hire me. The feat had taken me all of my acting skills, just to convince him I was 18, and old enough to serve. I was pretty sure that he still didn't really believe me, but I had been desperate, and he'd seen that.

At work, they knew I was a girl, and I tried to look the part. It bettered my tips. I had on dark, skinny jeans, a black t-shirt, my apron, and just a touch of make-up. For a finishing touch, I always put some girly accessory in my hair, so that people wouldn't confuse me with a boy.

I hurried to clock in. I had made it with only a minute to spare. "You okay?" Kurosaki-sempai asked me.

"I'm good. Thank you, Kurosaki-sempai" I said stiffly. It was embarrassing how quickly he had known something was wrong. Not that anything was ever right. The restaurant had sort of become a haven for me in the last month, a place to go where I could forget my own troubles and just focus on the next customer. Kurosaki was always overwhelmingly kind to me, worrying about me almost as a brother figure would.

My heart gave a pang. I had given up on any hopes or delusions of family when I'd moved here. "How many times do I have to tell you, Haruhi," he said in fake exasperation, "call me Shigure."

"Sorry, Shigure." He flashed that crooked smile of his, and I almost smiled in return. But lately, I had been feeling sick, sicker than usual. And I didn't want him to see that. "I should get to work" I said, shuffling away.

"Have you eaten today?" he said, concern coloring his voice.

"Yes, of course" I lied, monotone, turning back to my work.

Shigure shook his head and went back to counting the till. In all honesty, I'd barely touched any food in the last - six months it must have been now. My hip bones and ribs showed through, and my skin had a constant grayish pallor. I almost looked anorexic. I knew it wasn't healthy, but I just couldn't bring myself to eat more than a few bites at a time. My stomach was constantly in knots that made eating next to impossible.

At least barely eating saved on money. Not that that was going to help me if they kicked me out of my apartment. I had been able to avoid my landlord for the last week, but I knew I would have to give him the month's rent soon. It was already two weeks overdue. And I was 100 dollars short. Tips hadn't been great at the restaurant, due to the winter season business slowing things down considerably. Most of the time, I wasn't even needed, but I always offered to stay until closing. Most of the other people who worked here were older women who wanted to get back to their families or boyfriends, or younger men who wanted to go out and party. So generally, at the end of the night, it was me and Kurosaki.

The night passed in a blur. It had been slow, and I only had about 30 dollars in tips, and even that was only because I had had a party of 6 in my section. When I was finishing up my side duties at the bar, Kurosaki put down a steaming plate of rice and vegetables.

"Eat" he ordered.

"It's fine, Kurosaki. I had a big lunch" I said, maintaining eye contact. Whenever I turned away from Kurosaki, he knew that I was lying.

"I don't care. You're too skinny, and it's not healthy. Just because you wear your shirts a little baggier doesn't mean that I can't tell that you're practically skin and bones" he said sternly, playing every inch the boss.

"I can't pay for it. You should just have it for your own dinner. I know that you haven't had dinner for the last two nights" I snapped, rubbing my temples and trying not to go off on the one man who had been so kind to me.

"That's beside the point, and I'm not asking for you to pay for it. Just eat it." His eyes pleaded for me to just accept this.

But I couldn't. I hated accepting charity. I was self-sufficient enough to take care of myself. It wasn't fair to expect people to take care of me. I didn't need their pity or their sympathy. I just needed people to leave me the fuck alone. It had been too long since I'd really slept. My nap in the library notwithstanding. My head was pounding, and I couldn't keep my flood of memories at bay anymore. I was just too damn tired.

"Is it okay if I go now, Kurosaki?" I said, letting my exhaustion show for just a moment, hoping he would let me go home.

"Not until you've eaten every bite" he said stubbornly.

Obedient thing that I am, I ate everything, although even the simple meal made me feel sick. I walked on home and didn't even make it halfway until my stomach rejected all of the rice and veggies I had just eaten. I retched in the corner of the alleyway, while my stomach turned itself inside out, having nothing but that simple meal to even throw up.

Shaking and half-asleep, I finally made my way back to my apartment building. Once there, I cried. Cried and cried, until all that was left were dry, empty sobs that I could barely repress. I didn't know how my life had gotten to this point.

I was falling apart, and there was no one left who could pick up the pieces.

Depressing chapter and short I know, but I make no apologies. Hope you have enjoyed thus far ! R&R