Little Fixes

"It's time you start taking things seriously, y'know."

"I don't know what you mean."

"'Course you do. Don't act stupid—I know you're not stupid."

Tohru fixed his glasses and met his father's gaze. It was one of his father's rare nights home before Tohru's bedtime, and the young boy couldn't say he was excited. Maybe it was because he knew that his father was only here because his drinking buddies had other things to do. His father would come home on such occasions, drink his discount beer, and talk about Tohru's future, the boy's least favorite subject. And Tohru was getting an earful of "future" today.

Tohru's old man leaned into the uneven table and rested his elbow on the surface, causing Tohru's side to elevate slightly, and sloshed his drink out of his cup. This casual drunken behavior would be frowned upon if his mother wasn't in the kitchen, "You're going into middle school in a month, then, you'll have to take your exam for high school, and then you'll get into college. Better to start studying now. Take things seriously."

Tohru made a face. Studying sounded boring, and it wasn't like he didn't study already.

"Come on, don't make that face," his father huffed. "You don't want to end up like me, right? Working six days a week nine-to-five?"

His father smelled like cigarettes and beer, and the bags under his eyes were the kind that didn't go away when you slept. He spent hours, even late nights and days off, toiling away at his stupid job and still didn't have enough money to fix the leak in their roof. Tohru never saw him, and what he did was either drunk or tired. No, Tohru didn't want that.

"Neither of us went to university, but that's not going to happen to you. You're going to university. You're going to become something—a CEO or something. But we have to start now if we're going to get anywhere."

"You really think I could do that?"

"With hard work, you'll get there."

"Seems like a lot."

"Maybe, maybe," His father shrugged. "But the goals are simple. Get good grades, land a good job, get a girl, and you're set for life. A little hard work is all that's needed."

"But, girls are weird," Tohru grumbled.

"When you're older, you'll understand. Surprised you haven't already, but you were always a little younger than your classmates. Just don't start too late. Pickings are slim in high school and only get slimmer after they enter the 20s. And the pickings get slimmer—not the girls," he chuckled at his moronic joke. "Don't bother with friends; they'll leave once you go off to college and distract you from the real prize. And you can make some new ones at the bar when you're older." He seemed to get lost in thought—like he forgot what he was talking about. Then he repeated a little too loudly, "So if you want a nice girl, pick her early, and you'll have a good harvest."

"Whatever that means," Tohru mumbled; honestly, he wanted to go back to his room to avoid further conversation.

"Hey, how'd you think I got your mother?" His father glanced back to the kitchen where she was on the phone. As Tohru looked back, he saw his mother laugh; her bright smile showing through her vibrant lipstick and cakey makeup she wore whenever she had a day with the other housewives. She only really looked this happy when she was on the phone, "Early, before the other guys had a chance. So, act fast!" His sales pitch was seeping into his conversations again. "Those other guys were fools. And you're no fool, right?"

Tohru sighed and rolled his eyes, "I'm no fool."

Adachi was rudely awakened by his alarm clock. He rolled over and slapped the top of it to cease its beeping. He rubbed his eyes like a rat and let out a sigh.

What the hell was that?

Maybe it was a memory or an amalgamation of all the times his dear old dad sat him down and explained "what's what" to him. Either way, it was one of those dreams that he knew meant something—apparently—he just didn't know what.

He laid back down on his futon and put his hands behind his head.

He couldn't be worried about his disaffected parents. He hadn't talked to them in a long time, no matter how much "sagely wisdom" his father had tried to impart. His father was a bumpkin who wanted what he thought was best for Adachi and to ward off the kind of life he lived: paycheck to paycheck. Even the "better" parts of his life came from bad decisions or his own stupidity. His trophy wife was won after a happy accident shot-gunned him into marriage at 18. And so, he wanted his best for his son and to live vicariously through his achievements. He was a man cursed with disappointment.

His mother. . . Adachi shook his head. He didn't want to think about her.

Adachi and his parents weren't on speaking terms, but that was a whole different matter that he didn't want to think about. But they did leave him with something: a good work ethic and a pension for "hard work."

He was so naïve. To think he had believed in something as stupid as "hard work." He had worshipped it, salivated over it, touting that, if nothing else in his life, he was a "hard worker!" Cram school, study sessions, tutoring sessions, there was no time for anything else. If something wasn't going right, he just wasn't trying his best or was holding out on some effort, some minuscule skill or path evaded him—and he just needed to figure out what it was. That's what his parents wanted him to believe, or maybe something that they just wanted to believe. If he was failing, it had everything to do with himself.

It was a mantra his father repeated over and over again. (A two-thirds lie.) Friends were fleeting, grades got you a good school, and a good job brought you happiness.

Adachi wanted to be happy. He just never found the time, and he wasn't good enough to grasp it.

Nothing came his way: and that didn't change no matter what he did, what knowledge he had, or how much time he spent on it. He was fine in the academy, but things just went downhill once he hit the real world.

That's when he came to know a much more bitter truth, one that everyone seemed to deny at some level or another: everything was random.

All things came by chance, by some genetic lottery or blessing from whatever non-existent being had created them. No matter what belief system he looked at, he couldn't find answers to the randomness. Karma just didn't seem to sum it up—good people suffered, bad people lived full, exciting lives—and he wasn't stupid enough to believe in reincarnation. He couldn't believe he had been so bad a person that he was born utterly talentless. Better to be a fly or amoeba than a human without talent. No sin warranted that fate.

Adachi didn't hold much faith in anything other than the sun rose in the East and set in the West each day. But when he saw the attractive woman on the Midnight Channel, which claimed to show one's soulmate, he became pious enough to pilgrimage for its promise. Even then, after all his miraculous visions, that faith was rewarded with a sleazy woman and her rejection. After dealing with the false oracle, Adachi elected to never take prophecy at its word again.

And now… he couldn't help but see some of the old faith reflected back at him—maybe that's what caused his dream.

Yua had been told similar lies. She was overflowing with them: "You can do it!" "Keep your chin up!" "Everything will change, you'll see." It sickened him. He wanted to beat it out of her, show her how wrong she was, but he realized quickly that such beliefs would only lead right into his hand. Lies were a very necessary evil—but a little truth never hurt.

Friends were fleeting: the only truth that had been pushed by his parents. People sought out valuable arrangements, and when the friends became useless, that was an opportunity to leave the relationship. He needed to separate her from them and chip away at the relationship. He'd already done a little, but now he needed to be more direct.

He just needed an opportunity to show her the error of her ways.

"Thanks again," Adachi took a drag from the cigarette and puffed out some smoke. He knocked the ash off the butt, and it fell over the railing of the apartment complex. "I've been craving one for weeks."

"It was really no problem," Yua said from inside his apartment door. "My uncle has way too many."

"Sure you don't want to sit out here?" He leaned back and peered at her. His head tilted with the question.

Yua was sitting crisscross in the doorway, just out of the light of day so that they could talk while he smoked outside, "I don't really like the smell, and someone could see us."

"That's fine," he moved the stick up and down with his teeth, "As long as you don't gripe about how 'it's going to give you lung cancer' or 'it's unhealthy.'"

"I mean, it is."

"Yeah," he shrugged, "but it's something to do in this town. Believe me, I get calls on enough rowdy drunks to know that everyone needs a fix to live around here."

"I think you can live here without one, just as long as you substitute it with something or someone special."

He teasingly offered her the cigarette after blowing out a cloud.

"I have already found my substitute for such fixes," Yua smirked.

"Awe, that's sweet."

"I was talking about Nanako."

"Cheeky," he took another drag.

Yua grinned and watched pale smoke curl out from Adachi's mouth. She liked to see this side of him a little more. He seemed more relaxed, less clumsy and goofy. He had a dry humor that she could bounce off of. She wondered why he didn't show this side of himself more often. Maybe he was finally calming around her. She knew that she was getting used to him; she felt more comfortable around him now that they were on the same page.

There was the crash of garbage cans and a shriek. Adachi peered over the edge and down to the street below.

He chuckled, "Looks like we've got another stray cat. They're really everywhere. Might have to call animal control."

"Cat?" Yua was to her feet and at the railing in an instant. She peered over the edge, leaning her top half over the railing, and Adachi was about to pull her back when she caught sight of the furball across the street from the apartment. The pattern was familiar, "Oh! It's Atsuki!"

"You can tell?" He squinted to get a better look at the cat as she pawed the splayed garbage. "She's so big now. What the hell happened?"

"Puberty and a good home," she cupped her hands around her mouth, "Atsuki! Atsuki!"

"Weren't you going to stay quiet?" Adachi's protest went unnoticed. "Hey, people will notice."

Hearing her name, the cat looked around and then up. Its quiet gaze landed on the couple on the second floor. Atsuki took a few curious steps back and flicked her tail.

Yua was suddenly pulled back, "You'll fall if you keep leaning over it. I really don't want to explain that to your uncle."

Yua smiled and shook her head and turned back to see Atsuki step out into the road, either unaware of or apathetic to the car barreling towards her.

"Atsuki!" Yua yelped and gripped the edge of the railing, again almost throwing herself over it. She couldn't look away from the scene.

The car screeched to a halt, mere centimeters away. Atsuki hissed at the vehicle, arched her back, hissed again, and hopped up and down. The car honked, and the cat jumped and skittered across the way.

Yua sank back from the railing as relief flowed over her.

"She doesn't really understand traffic and tries to fight cars," Yua sighed, releasing a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "So her owner's told me."

"That's weird for a cat," Adachi added with concern.

"She's got a warrior spirit."

They watched as the cat paced in front of the building before heading toward the stairs. A few short meows could be heard as Atsuki padded up the steps. She poked her head around the corner before advancing. Atsuki immediately approached and purred as she rubbed her head against Yua's leg.

"Atsuki," Yua bent down to scratch the cat behind its ears. "You scared me, ya' know. Be more careful around traffic in the future, okay?"

Atsuki let out a soft rumbling meow and pressed her head into Yua's hands.

"Good." Yua nodded and began to pet the cat more thoroughly.

Adachi watched the exchange with a raised eyebrow. Yua knew the cat couldn't really understand her, right? Knowing her, he wasn't sure. A weird cat for an even weirder girl. Yua was practically on the ground now; the cat basked coolly in her shower of affection. This just wasn't right. That cat was getting more action than he was. Adachi huffed and bent down, extending a hand towards the feline.

"Hey," the cat sniffed at his hand, then bit down hard. He jerked back with a surprised yelp, and the cigarette dropped from his mouth.

"She missed you," Yua smirked.

"I can see that," Adachi grumbled as he rubbed out the cigarette with his shoe.

"Just play with her for a minute, and she'll get used to you," Yua insisted.

Adachi grimaced but held out his hand towards the cat one more time. Atsuki swaggered away from him. He narrowed his eyes at the cat. Oh, so now it was going to ignore him? He wasn't sure why that bothered him; he didn't even like the damn pest.

"Atsuki, no…" Yua frowned as the cat began to rub against her leg again.

"I don't think she likes me."

"I'm sure that she'd change her mind if she got to know you." Yua went back to scratching behind the cat's ears. Adachi stepped closer and squatted down.

"Speaking from experience?" He teased and bumped her shoulder with his own.

"Maybe." Yua's lips curved upward.

They were close now, their sides almost touching as they watched the cat pace back and forth underneath Yua's attentive hands.

Adachi stole a glance at the girl next to him. A warm summer breeze caught in her hair and carried a few silver strands, revealing her gaze concentrated on the cat. Adachi's lips thinned into a displeased line. It felt like things had gone back to the way they were before he had pried her confession out of her. The food and the cigarettes were good, but those weren't what he was really after.

He guided Yua's attention back to him by brushing the stray hairs behind her ear. He was pretty sure he'd seen something like this in a romantic show he'd paid five seconds of attention to during his "research." The move seemed to work; Yua's gaze was on him now.

"Can I try something?" Adachi murmured, taking a moment to make sure they were alone outside.

"Sure! Did you want to try letting Atsuki sniff your hand again?" She was clueless as ever. Though it would usually be an aggravation, now it was kind of endearing.

"I had something a little different in mind." Yua's hands were still busy with the cat. Adachi needed to fix that. He let one of his hands move smoothly underneath one of her own. Lacing his fingers with hers, he pulled her hand away from its work and replaced it with his free hand. Atsuki, ignorant of the change, continued to purr as Adachi petted her. "There we go. That's more like it."

Adachi ran his thumb over Yua's knuckles. The girl was silent next to him. He had expected a "Congratulations" or an "I told you she likes you" from her, but he was pleased to find her staring at their hands intertwined between them, her cheeks dusted an attractive shade of pink.

The sound of Yua's cellphone ringing inside the apartment cut his flirtation short. Adachi didn't have time to protest. She jumped up to get it and released his hand, undoing all his work.

Yua had to use all of her willpower to pull away from Adachi. Her skin felt cold after leaving his hand.

"One sec," Yua promised to back and picked up the phone. "Hey, Yukiko."

"Hey! Where are you? Are you almost here?"

"Almost the—" Yua's eyes shot open wide. The job! The job she'd agreed to a couple of days ago, "No! Oh God, I forgot! I'm on the other side of town."

"Oh, you're not coming, are you," Yukiko muttered.

"I'm so sorry; I forgot," Yua said quickly. "I can still come over! I could make it if I run." She headed over to her shoes.

"No—no, it's alright. I'll see if I can call someone else in. You—" there was sound on the other end. "Never mind, I have to go. Bye."

"Bye," Yua muttered as the line went dead.

She stood in silence for a while, the weight of guilt in her chest. How could she have forgotten! She gripped her phone tighter. Now Yukiko was going to be so overrun. She imagined Yukiko rushing around the inn in a flurry as her mood sunk lower.

"Hey, everything alright?" Adachi called from the doorway.

"Oh, yeah, it's nothing."

"If it were nothing, you wouldn't look so down."

Yua sighed, "I promised Yukiko that I would help around her family's inn. I forgot that it was today."

"Eh, she's probably got other people she can call. I wouldn't worry too much about it."

"But that's why I was going to help. They've been short-staffed lately." Yua looked down at her phone held in her hand. "I can't believe I forgot."

Adachi frowned and shook his head, "She shouldn't have put that much pressure on you."

"Oh, no, I asked to—"

"Still, it's a big job. She should have pulled from the girls already working there or hired extra people if she really needed someone. It's not fair to you, especially if she didn't remind you," he smirked. "Though you would look nice in a kimono."

Even if Yua didn't want to admit it, there was truth in his words. She felt guilty for feeling comforted by them. It made her gravitate back towards Adachi, standing just inside the doorway. The warmth of his hand in hers was still fresh in her mind, and the situation only made her wish to feel the reassuring touch again.

"I still feel bad for letting her down. I promised…" She hesitantly reached out, brushing her fingers against the side of his hand. Her uncertain movements were rewarded with Adachi's fingers lacing with her own. He gave her an awkward but supportive smile.

"Hey, don't let it get you so down, okay?" He reached out his other hand and played with her hair a bit. "You're really kind, but I sometimes noticed you let people step on you to help them. They might take advantage of you if you let them do that, even if they don't realize that they're taking advantage. Stand up for yourself when that happens. You shouldn't feel like you have to bend over backward to help everyone. Take care of yourself first."

"If I had done that, I wouldn't have gotten to know you," Yua smirked.

He laughed, "You got me there."

"And I wouldn't have gotten to know Atsuki," she reached down to the cat that had begun to wander into Adachi's apartment. It rubbed against her legs again.

"Yeah," he reached down also, "we wouldn't know—" Atsuki bit his hand "—AH!"

Later that day, Yua met up with Rise in the shopping commons and ended up wandering into the bookstore. The two girls scanned the shelves for something that might pique their interest. Rise dragged Yua away from the fishing section to the romance books to discuss the descriptions on the back. A display was set up in the central aisle promoting a few chosen books. Rise's face scrunched in disgust at a familiar book with a dark cover.

"I hate this book," Rise huffed picking it up and turning it over in her hands.

"Oh, yeah, it's pretty lame," Yua glanced back over to the fishing section to see if there were new books there. "The powers the characters had didn't make them seem like vampires."

"No, that was fine; I don't care about that," She waved her off. "I'm talking about the romance, y'know? How creepy it is."

"I guess. I wouldn't date a dead person." Yua walked to the other side of the shelf. "That seems like a good way to get cursed."

"Not even that! Like the weird age gap between the characters. It's like three hundred years? If he looked like his actual age and not a seventeen-year-old, he'd look so old. Maybe it just hits too close to home for me. I have some fans who are much older than me who've sent me fan mail with . . . explicit details about what they think about me. It's not fun. My manager sat me down and gave me a whole course and conduct on creepy older guys—so I know how they think. Get real."

Yua was silent.

"Hey," Rise said. "You there?"

Yua frowned.

So that's what her friends would think of her situation. Of course, they'd never say it, but that's what they would think. It was creepy. He was too old. They wouldn't understand that Adachi was a friendly and caring guy. She hated that they would see it that way because he was a decade older. She suddenly felt ridiculous for her display back at the apartment. What if one of her friends had heard her? Yua realized that even if Adachi was okay with telling others and there were no real consequences, she wouldn't want to anyway. She took a long look at all of the romance novels in front of her. The books for adults and the genre for teenagers were separated onto two shelves, clearly split by a divider.

"So, what's his name?" As if reading her thoughts, Rise leaned from around the corner and jumped her with the question.

"Not telling," Yua turned to face away from her.

"Oh, come on," Rise giggled.

"Can we talk about something other than my love life?"

"What else is there to talk about?"

"Literally every single subject ever."

"Aww, it's so cute when you're flustered," Rise teased.

Yua picked something random off the shelf, "I'll just buy this."

"Oh, come on, senpai!"

She followed her up to the counter, but Yua stopped just before it. If she talked in front of the register, they could be overheard—or at least, more overheard than before.

"Have things moved forward? What did he say when you gave him the hat back?"

She gestured to keep quiet, "He just thanked me."

"AND!?" Rise whisper/yelled. "I know something happened."

Yua wanted to shut down the conversation again, but Rise had a sparkle in her eye. Yua needed to give her something, or Rise would never let it go.

"We've—we confessed to each other," Yua immediately regretted it.

"Already! I would have thought it'd take you months to confess your feelings! Wait, are you guys dating now?"

Yua hesitated but then nodded slowly.

"Hey, that's great! When can I meet him?"

"Oh—well," Yua shrugged. "He lives in Okina city, so I don't get to see him often."

Rise raised an eyebrow at that, and Yua knew that it didn't pass Rise's lie detector.

To Yua's surprise, Rise shrugged, "Alright, I don't have to see him anytime soon, but you got to tell me everything about him! Come on! You can't fault me for being interested in the guy that's captured your heart!"

"Okay," Yua sighed. She'd have to come up with something that sounded realistic. Then she remembered Adachi's words, "But, you have to promise me something."

"Anything!"

"You can't tell anyone I'm in a relationship," Yua muttered.

Rise gave her a look, "You're not dating someone in the Yakuza or a foreign prince or something, are you?"

"No, no, it's just; that I'm a little nervous about this new relationship. I don't want anyone to know until I feel comfortable."

"Alright," Rise smiled. "I won't tell anyone. Pinky promise."