[center][img]http://txt-dynamic.cdn.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjY2LmI4NjRkMy5TMlZwLjAA/bernardo-moda.moda.png[/img][/center] It’s so hot. Staring at the fan spinning from the ceiling, going around and around in dizzying circles. Even at night his clothes clung to his skin and a bath did little to relieve the sweat from rolling down his forehead again afterward. Mistah Furafu sat on the edge of the bed watching as he completed his summer homework. “That’s a great idea,” Kei replied to Mistah Furafu, “We should make dinner for grandma and grandpa. Cold noodle soup.” he sighs lifting up his math book to block the fan’s nonexistent gust. Sometimes he felt like he didn’t do enough for his grandparents. Ever since then, he’s been in their house and burdens them with worry about his well being. If he picked up more chores maybe they wouldn’t feel like he was just taking up space. Mistah Furafu hung over the edge slightly as if the bear were alive. Though he knew it was because the tatami mats rumbled with grandpa’s heavy footsteps. He stomped on his heels and shook the floors. It was something he was getting use to being in this house. A lone car would drive through the road, and then there would be the sound of the cicadas afterward. Disturbed by the vehicle, perhaps. “Kei!” his grandmother called. Maybe he got up with too much eagerness. A flutter of anxiety washed over him for a second. Maybe he should delay his arrival more? Would they think he’s too eager to come to their beck and call? Face goes hot for a second as he realizes he’s at his grandmother’s side in the family room within seconds of her calling him over. “Yes obachan,” Kei mumbles. “Can you help me with this email?” she ask nicely enough. He fidgeted with his fingers, trying to stop himself from doing so by quickly putting them stiffly at his side only to dig into the fabric of his shorts. It’s just his grandmother, he shouldn’t be this nervous around here. Over an email. You’re overreacting. Why? “What’s wrong?” he replies. She looks over him a bit concerned, grabbing his hand, “Come sit down. The screen is messed up. Or something.” Again? Maybe it was time for a new computer then. Grandfather have a cow about money again. He giggled. Have a cow. Everytime he used that expression he could only think of his grandfather, wrinkly skinned man, with wispy graying hair, opening his mouth wide like the cartoon shows they play on the television and swallowing a whole cow. His grandmother stares at him. “Oh, nothing,” he says nervously, his voice shakes in an uncomfortable manner he wished it didn’t. Looking at the computer that his grandmother slides over for him to have a better look, he’s not sure what he’s looking at. The more he stares at the message, the less sense it makes. Till he swears the code began to form a shape, a cross with four pointed triangles crawls onto the screen. He’s cracking right now? “Well,” his grandmother is impatient for an answer. “It’s...just a virus,” Kei replies, “....I think.” his head feels weird right now. “A virus?” his grandmother ask, “How did I get one of those?” Kei shrugs. Could he be excused? “Maybe…..did you order….something online?” Kei ask. “You should ask your ojichan that question!” she shouts so his grandfather can hear from the room he’s watching TV. “I….’ll just fix it,” Kei replies. “How do you do that?” his grandmother ask. “I’ll restore from a previous update,” Kei replies. Then he’d go to bed. Maybe it was the heat that was making his head suddenly feel fuzzy. He didn’t want to burden his grandparents with any more concerning behavior, so he wouldn’t say anything. It was just his imagination coupled with this heat. Finishing the restore, he smiled. “There,” he tells her. “How do I login again?” she ask staring at the computer asking for a password. “Use the password,” he points to the password stickied on the screen. “Oh yes,” his grandmother replies and begins to type it in. Can he be excused? He’s so sorry he’s so selfish. He should want to help her with the computer more. “I’m….going to bed early,” he mumbles. His grandmother merely nods and nods. “Sweet dreams sweet boy,” she tells him. He’s practically fleeing the situation now. He cannot get his heart to settle down. Why does his own grandmother make him feel this way? He should love them unconditionally and he shouldn’t be this boy. Mistah Furafu hangs off the edge of his bed. Grabbing Mistah Furafu and hugging him tightly, “I want to be a better grandson.” he whispers in Mistah Furafu tiny ears. [u][b]August 1st, 2011 - The Next Day[/b][/u] There’s no relief from the heat. He couldn’t sleep much due to it. Holding tightly on Mistah Furafu his first greeting is the cicadas. Loud, but he always found them quite easy to listen to. Staring at his clock it was frozen at 10:00 pm last night. A new computer and a new digital clock. Getting out of bed slowly and groggily, it’s hard to get his brain moving in upon waking. Sitting Mistah Furafu on the bed straight up, he begins to dig through his drawers. “What kind of ribbon should you wear today?” Kei asked Mistah Furafu. Digging out a bright green one with yellow polka dots Kei smiles at it. It’s the first ribbon he bought with his own allowance for Mistah Furafu. Today felt like a special day, so he’d have him wear that one. Humming and tying it around Furafu’s neck, today was going to be a better day. He’d make his grandmother's breakfast and go to the fields to draw for a little bit. A pit in his stomach began to develop. What if other kids were playing in the fields today? He’d have to go back home. Or find somewhere more secluded. The morning routine was relaxing as it was routine. Taking a shower before putting on fresh clothes, his favorite shirt with the hood and a pair of shorts. Heading down the stairs with a fresh new outlook. Despite having little sleep he felt a bit of zeal today. Slightly energetic he enters the kitchen and pauses. They are never up this early. Staring at his grandparents sitting at the dining table. Breakfast has been set, but they haven’t taken a single bite. Three plates lay neatly on the table, piping hot, but he didn’t hear anyone up. “Good morning Kei,” his grandmother smiles at him. “We’re having breakfast,” his grandfather announces, “Please sit down.” He wants to be a better grandson. A better son in general. He feels his chest beginning to tighten because he knows what he wants to do versus what he should do. He should sit down and eat with them. He should converse with them. He wants to go to the creek now. Maybe pack a lunch for later. Maybe come back for lunch later. “I’m….going to go to the fields,” Kei tells them. “Okay,” his grandmother is still smiling. “We’re having breakfast,” his grandfather says again. Does that mean he wants him to have breakfast with him? Something feels weird about all of this. He’s not sure quite what. Maybe he’s just being nervous, again. Maybe he’s being selfish, again. Holding Mistah Furafu in one hand and his art book in another, “Okay bye.” he says. Heading quickly to the genkan and putting on his black loafers, he’s a terrible grandson. He should have sat down when his grandfather prompted him again. “Good morning Kei,” his grandmother says in the dining room. Now he’s just having a weird dream right? He’s not even in the room. Heading out of the house he is greeted by the street he’s use to walking to the station to head to school. The roads are silent. Where are the people? His neighbor is watering a single bush. Seemingly frozen in time. He can hear his own heart beat beginning to rise. This is just a really weird dream, right?