Short_002
#2 of Shorts and one-shots
Just another short. And no, I have nothing against emo-haired losers with daddy issues.
Some things are bad, and some things are bad.
Some things are not always bad, some things change depending on how some people can manipulate the situation, and some things are when you think it is bad.
Things that can break one's morale, things that shatter one's hopes and dreams, things that how matter you look at them, they can never be restored back, things that are significant yet you chose not to. It's like walking bare-footed on a path full of shattered glass. Each stride is slow and painful against your soles. Every inch, every pointed fragments, drilling--oh so slowly--on your skin in which will be soon caught up in them and forcibly tear itself apart no matter how careful you walk. And each footprint made was stained in crimson hot liquid that gashed through the torn skin. Along the way you learn how to ignore it, you'll learn to never notice it. Perhaps you never notice. You learn not to notice at all.
That is what you call bad.
But bad is another word. This isn't anything like that big-ass paragraph above. Anyone could say 'Keep on moving forward 'till you reach you goal!' or 'Fight through the end!' or any other inspirational shit like that. But to me, this was the end. This is the price I have to pay, my end of the bargain. Not all the time the sun will shine after the storm.
It's a mountain that cannot be moved. It's a sea that cannot be calmed. It's a solid steel box that traps your whole very existence inside, never to be seen again, nor the living daylights will ever touch you.
It's claustrophobic.
It's suffocating.
It's intoxicating.
One of the most really frustrating moments of my life, aside from xenophobic fathers and oblivious mothers, is that when parents think that they are better than any professional. They think that my choice of profession is a non-removable stain on their image and a giant bruise to their egos. I almost feel a little bit sorry for the kids who can have any material wants in this god-forsaken world, yet all they want is to have their parent's attention. All their lives, they do many things to be noticed, whether they have to study to achieve this highest marks and follow each and every order they give to the poor kids; or purposely fail at subjects and rebel on things that matter. And in my case, it's the latter.
Sorry, but I'm not the goody-two-shoes type of guy. I'm not their living, breathing doll who has to follow every command they gave you, wear fancy designer clothing they bought for you, act the way they taught you how, and be the perfect child they wanted you to be. It's my life and it's my own decision to prove that I'm not as weak as they think I would be.It's hard to know what felt the worst, when the hatred for myself for not seeing how royally and evidently fucked up I am, for not seeing how much of a problem I am, my whole existence. I never really learned, did I? Maybe I should've stopped drinking for like, three cans ago.
But it didn't last long anyways. It's poisoning me and my systems, yet at the same time it felt like it was just flowing down on my throat for the liberty of all--I don't feel like drinking. I don't want to drink. But these things just happen because that's how I function. That's how my brain wanted to cope with all of this.
To be fair, this isn't my first time getting drunk. Nor the seventh. Nor the twelfth.
It's been six months.
Six months since last saw each other. Six months since that one big misunderstanding. Six months since that fight. Six months since I'm living in this shitty apartment all by myself. Six months for the landlord to keep bugging me about the rent. Six months of shifting from one job to another. Six months since I sold my bike to sustain my needs. Six months of constant drinking. Six months for my liver to start to have a countdown of its own. Six months since we disbanded.
Maybe all of this was a huge joke. This tag... This guitar... This dream--
Maybe 'We are forever with' is one big, cruel joke to my sorry excuse for being alive.
Whatever. I'm drunk as hell. My face was slumped on the cold wooden flooring that creaked every time I move my body. I was staring into a blank space across the floor. I can see every detail, every speck of dust, imprinted there. Everything was filled with white noise. It was deafening.
No, I need to do something. Something that involves staying alive and make money to stay alive. Thinking it was a great idea to sit up, I groggily lifted my poor, malnourished frame of mine, making my vision spun around the room, a slight hint of buzzing can be felt at the back of my head as my body slumped back to the floor. And just when I heard harsh, rapid knocking on my door, my hoarse raspy voice wasn't enough to shout back to respond. Huh, pitiful
"Nii-chan! Are you alright in there?" The person shouted from behind the door.
My head is still slumped, with my vision getting foggy at the moment. It felt like it was some sort of hallucination, or even perhaps a new form, in which I was in a never-ending fast-paced carousel ride that you can never get-off. Then there was a sound of the door opening that immediately dragged me back to reality. Two figures, one is a recognizable wolf and the other is a dark slim figure of another specie, came in a panicked state and kept nudging my body in hopes that somehow I was not in a critical condition. But alas! My consciousness gave up on me as the world I'm currently into vanished into the void.
The next thing I knew, is that I was in a most comfortable bed my damned body had ever laid upon. A small bouquet in an equally small yet elegant glass was sitting idly on the windowsill. The whole place was smothered with different accents of blue, as if I was gazing over the vast sky. My mouth and throat was dry, and a bitter aftertaste lingered on my tongue as if I just licked the bottom of a trash bin. Again, deciding it was a good idea to sit up, a panging pain drilled through my skull, making me wince in pain. Fucking hangovers.
Beside the bed I'm currently residing was the very same dark, slim figure; which was later revealed to be a well-known black feline, placing a bookmark on a page he's currently reading. It's been a year since I last saw him, despite how awfully close this village is. From what I recall, I think his name was S... Sh-
"Shin... kun?" I croaked. My voice was hoarse as ever, but enough for him to recognize my words.
"It's been a while, Kouya. Long time, no see. How's the hangover treating you?"
"Terrible" was all I can say for now.
"Aspirin?"
"S-sure... I'll have one."
Maybe it was the beer that's taking effect on me but, wow. Among of all people who can save my sorry ass, Shin selflessly offered his kindness to me. To someone who couldn't have it all. To someone who as pitiful as a dying pet who got ran over by an over speeding vehicle. He used to be as cold as ice, tongue as sharp as winter's mornings, and yet he was warm as the sun's rays.
Beggars can't be choosers after all.
Days and weeks passed by, and I was eternally grateful to Shin. Without his hospitality and kindness, I'd be long dead by now. While my health is being recovered as time flew, I explained to him what happened for the last few months. The jobs I have to take. The apartment with an overdue fee. The dreams that I still keep on chasing even though there's still no chance.
Understanding the position I'm in, out of the blue, Shin offered me a well-paying job, enough to sustain my needs and free three-course meals as well, and along was a room in which I will be sharing with the head servant and Shin's sole guardian. I was eternally grateful to Him. Words aren't enough of show how thankful I am to his warm demeanour. He catered for the needs that my body demanded. I was being selfish for my own good.
I don't deserve this. I don't deserve any of this at all.
The first day of work had arrived. Shin introduced me to a white feline, Amaki was his name, or so I heard. I'll be working here as his assistant. Amaki taught me about doing the household chores, and damn, Shin's house sure is a luxury to live in. He was friendly at first, but he always have that threatening aura around him at some point. As if he was perceiving me as someone suspicious, especially due to my background information. But nevertheless, he still tried, and I trust him back.
It had been months. Long enough to gain Amaki's trust. And within those months, I've learned what I need to know about them. Their favourite past time (Which is both reading, of course), favourite food, favourite colour- almost everything. And along with that was a secret I wished I never knew. While I was doing my share of the house chores, I accidentally found out a vault behind the walls to where the Kuroi's wealth is. Or at least was.
Maybe if was unintentional but, fuck, greed got better of me. Somewhere in the dark corners of my mind, it crossed to me that the money I'm currently earning was not enough to sustain my needs. Maybe if I have that much money, I can convince Yuuki, Kei, and Jun back and start over again. Maybe the landlord will stop pestering me about the overdue rent fee, or maybe I can buy a house of my own. Maybe I can buy my bike back. Maybe I can finally get out of this village. MAYBE--
There were too many options to choose from. And I don't know which one to start.
"Again?" the black feline reprimanded. His forefinger and thumb were now pinching the bridge of his muzzle. It's evident that he is not amused either by this. "This is the fourth time this month. And you know very well that this is also coming out of your pay check."
"Sorry Shin, but this is kind of an emergency. You see the landlord is still complaining how the amount was not sufficient enough to cover up all--"
"Alright, alright, I get it. Why don't you just give up that shitty apartment of yours, or hell, I'll handle--"
"NO! I-I mean, no. Let me handle the talking. And I'm pretty sure that this'll be the last one, I promise. Just please, I really need the money."
With a long exhale, Shin summoned Amaki along with my 'fourth' pay check for this month. Eagerly accepting it, I dash out of the door and ran off to god-knows where.
"I'm telling you, sir. I don't think we can trust him anymore. Excuse me for pushing my thoughts about him on you but, I strongly believe this friend of yours is indirectly extorting money from you. Perhaps it is time to put up that cameras Mr. Kuroi bought around the house. It's for your own good as well."
Those were the words I heard on one summer night. Amaki is getting perceptive about my suspicious actions. It isn't safe anymore to get money directly from him. I need to get my hands on that vault.
It's 3 in the morning. It was silent as a mouse. Both of them are asleep and the cameras aren't set up yet until tomorrow, may as well seize the chance while there is. Gingerly suppressing the sound of my footsteps in the shag carpet, I perform one final check on them to see if they're asleep before I get to that vault. Heh, I feel like I'm in some spy movie where I need to find out where the 'loot' is.
Alright. First up: Amaki's room, or formerly it was, now called as our room. It's hard to sneak this one out because Amaki has heightened senses that could match a Shinobi. As I checked on him, I saw his figure his side of the bed, along with a blanket with foetal sleeping position.
Next: Shin's room. Again suppressing the sound of the door opening, there was a small, frail figure laying atop the bed covered in a blanket. Damn, he's like a bait for a killer, waiting to be attacked. But that's not what I'm here for. I slowly closed the door and proceed on to the next room. Judging from the position, he was also in the same sleeping situation. Coincidence or not, the coast is clear for me to get that money.
On my way, the corridor was dimly lit, like a scene in a horror movie in which you expect blood dripping on the walls, and some hand passing through them, and a disemboweled body at the end. Cool.
Once reaching to the room where the vault is 'secretly' hidden, I walked down to the old painting where I left a piece of paper that is secretly tucked on the back side of it. Pulling it out the frame, I slowly put down the painting to reveal a steel vault with a dial knob in front. Unfolding the paper, what is written in there was a date. It didn't took long for me to realize it was Shin's birthday that was set to be the vault's code. I entered the date through their numerical values, 07-10-XX, and click! The vault is now good to go.
But to my surprise, instead of money that was in there, what's inside was another paper with something inscribed on it.
TURN AROUND is what's written in big, black cursive lettering.
"Looking for this?" The voice came out all of the sudden. As I turn around, I saw Shin sitting in a velvet chair that I have never seen before, leaning to the right with his elbow as support, his other arm was rested on his lap, with legs crossed. Standing on the right beside him was Amaki with a devious grin etched on his face, and within his hand was the sack of money that I was going to grab. What's noticeable about them is that both of their eyes glow under the dim lighting, both bearing different colours, one gold and the other is sapphire. "Just what do you think you're doing in an ungodly hour of the morning? Do you seriously think you can get away with this? I knew I should never kept you. You're not worthy as my servant. Be gone, stranger!" His voice is like a thousand people talking in unison. I was awestruck. It can't be possible. I just saw them sleeping safe and sound in their rooms! Or maybe that's how they wanted me to believe. Shit. I was set up. They knew what is coming. Fuck them both.
Shin then pointed a finger towards me and spoke to me for one last time, "Amaki, clean up this mess."
The white cat then lunged towards me in a giant step and a speed that is faster than my eye could catch, a bread knife clutched in his right hand and ready to drill whichever part of my body it can pierce. And along with that are the final words that I heard:
"As you wish, My Lord"