[right][img]https://i.imgur.com/1L1xq1m.png[/img][/right][hr] [indent][color=#9CB795]"...Its feathers choked the alligator as the bird slid down his gullet. Only when his stomach had fully settled did the pink alligator realize what he'd done."[/color] Laki stretched in his chair. The hospital only provided little stools for visitors–especially visitors for patients who couldn't actually converse. It made prolonged visits far too uncomfortable for Laki's liking. [color=#9CB795]"The pink alligator cried out and–"[/color] He caught a glimpse of the analog clock on the wall. 7:43. Late. He needed to get home to pack up and clean, then head to the dorms and settle in. Maybe he would even get a chance to relax today. [color=#9CB795]"...Sorry, Mom. I'm gonna need to go. I'll be back... Sunday after next. Opening week's always a bit hectic."[/color] His mother, of course, did not respond. She simply lay there, tubes hooked up all over, looking so very tired. She'd always been tired, but the time spent afflicted by the [color=yellow]Plague[/color] certainly hadn't helped. Laki could swear that her brown skin was even more lined than before. He wanted to grab her hand and pull her out of her slumber. He wanted her to jump up and shout cheesy motivational statements in broken Japanese. Anything except for the absolute zero in front of him. He had to get moving. Staring endlessly would get him nowhere. He'd have more opportunities to visit later. Laki grabbed his bag, gave his mother one final glance, and left. [center] * * * [/center] Laki turned the key to his–no, [i]their[/i] apartment. Four years spent in this godforsaken 4 1/2 mat after his father left. Four years of anxiety, not knowing when the next paycheck would come in, not knowing if they'd have enough money to pay the rent or buy enough food or pay the medical bills. Four years of him and his mother, doing all they could to stay afloat. He stepped past the threshold. There was a slight smell of disinfectant in the air. Even years after his illness, the endless cleaning and re-cleaning his mother had done back then still pervaded the room. And now, it was time for the room's final cleanse. He picked up the portable stove from the corner. Countless bottles of boiled medicine, moist towels, hastily-cooked porridge had been borne from its flames. They'd fixed it so many times over the years, it probably wasn't the same stove anymore. [color=#9CB795]"I wish you good use in the next life,"[/color] he murmured to it, half-jokingly. His mother would always talk to the objects and tools in the home. It wasn't a part of her culture–it was just something she did. Over the last three months, Laki had found himself doing much of the same. Next, he cleaned out his futon–probably the most expensive thing in the room save for his laptop. His mother had always insisted on high-quality sleep, even when they had such little cash for food or utilities. [b]"Good sleep, good work, good play,"[/b] she'd say. Laki the futon up and bundled it. He could probably sell it online, get a decent price, cover a bit of tuition. Speaking of sleep... what exactly was that dream from last night? It'd been a long time since Laki even remembered a dream after he woke up. He shook his head. He'd have time to think about it later. Right now, it was cleaning time. The rest of the room didn't carry much sentimental value. He'd already sold or trashed most of the junk the day before. The only things left were his books. They were all mostly worthless, maybe only worth a few hundred yen at most. Still, they'd carried him well through the first two years, when they didn't have an internet connection. Romance, philosophy, fantasy, business, sci-fi, self-help, investment tips, cookbooks, classical literature, he'd devoured them all. Not like he had much else to do while lying in bed in pain. He sorted them into piles and boxed them up to be sold. [color=#9CB795]"Goodbye, books. May your pages be turned until they wear to dust."[/color] [center] * * * [/center] That was it. That was everything the Hirata family had to its name. Well, that and whatever Laki's father owned, but he didn't count. Laki checked his watch. It'd taken him over two hours to vacuum, scrub, run the books to the corner bookstore, haggle for a higher sell price, dump the futon on the landlady (she'd paid him an excellent price), and take the rest of the appliances down to a storage locker where they'd sit for (hopefully) a short amount of time. He couldn't quite sell everything yet. That'd be like giving up hope. He grabbed his backpack and suitcase, then locked the door and left the key with the landlady. As he walked down the street under the noonday sun, Laki thought about his curious dream from the night before. A blue room, a woman whose beauty was second only to her strange hair and eyes, and a man with a nose longer than a banana. And there was that business with destiny... and tarot cards? [color=#9CB795]"I wonder which deck he was using."[/color] he murmured to himself. [color=#9CB795]"It was probably the Rider-Waite or Thoth deck. Marseille's deck does have a Hierophant, but it's usually named as the Pope due to translational quirks..."[/color] [center] * * * [/center] After unpacking, Laki sat down at the provided desk in his room and retrieved his planner. He needed to get everything sorted out as soon as possible. [color=#9CB795]"Finances first. I have my job... Mom's savings... the cash from selling stuff..."[/color] As he wrote down the calculations, a thought struck him. He pulled out his laptop, connected to the school network, opened his email, and navigated to a certain unread message. [code]Hey, Laki, I hope everything's going well for you. I don't message much, but your mom and I aren't really on speaking terms anymore, you know? Anyway, I heard about what's been going on, and I want to make up for... what happened in the past. If there's anything I can do for you, just ask. With love, Dad SENT: 2021-3-17 23:39:43 from hirata.itachi.331@mail.yahoo.co.jp RECEIVED: 2021-3-17 23:39:47 to luckyravenking@mail.yahoo.co.jp [/code] Disgusting. Abandoning your loved one and child, only to come back years later as if nothing had happened? Laki's fingers shook as he typed out a response. His mother would hate it, but they needed the money more than anything else. It felt dirty, asking for help like this, but it was the only option. He hit [code]Send[/code] and sighed. At this point, he was willing to do anything to reduce his workload. Laki stood, stretched, grabbed a book, and made his way to the lobby to read. [/indent]