(EPISODE III)
Gaido killed the engines, and the neighbourhood tranquil rushed in to displace the mechanical rumbles.
The windows were dark.
Kettei slumped in the seat, hollowed, and Gaido waited, patiently, hands on the steering wheels, eyes forward as if they were on a road and not already parked in the driveway.
Kettei’s head was splitting. His knees weakened.
A million voices shrieked for his attention. He was torn apart physically, emotionally and what-not, each part of him running in a different direction.
“Is your Uncle supposed to be out late, tonight?”
Kettei breathed out through his mouth, but didn’t answer. He finally unlocked the door and slouched out, his movements leadened and slow.
If he pretended hard enough, perhaps he could say he was a zombie.
Gaido followed him out, hovering while he crawled through the little pots and edible plants Uncle Taeru nurtured for the third one on the left, second row, and pulled out the key. His knees knocked one of the pot on the way he was retracting, and Kettei kicked it off instead of nudging it back in place, the soil filthed his already battered shoe.
He wanted to cry. Out of frustration. He wanted to break down and bang his head to the stone walls until his skull bursted open.
“Where’s Kyushi-kun?” Gaido asked while Kettei fumbled with the key and the lock. After two tries, he tumbled in, panting. He was already slamming the door when Gaido stopped the shutting by jutting a leg in between the frames.
Gaido slid in, despite Kettei’s growls.
“Fuck if I know. He’s probably sulking and waiting to give me another fucking lecture.” Kettei bit. He left the front door gaping open, and Gaido closed it.
“Kettei, your brother means the best for you.”
“Always the best,” Kettei mocked. He threw the key on the counter, angry at the not-angrily-enough clang.
If they want the best for him, they should have just let him drink himself to death.
Gaido turned a critical eye on him. “If you want to die, that’s fine. But at least consider your brother and uncle.”
“Oh, I did,” Kettei spreaded his palms. “Everybody would be happy to be rid of a burden. You wouldn’t have to babysit me anymore.”
Gaido’s face tightened, and Kettei thought the Officer looked ridiculous standing in a pressed uniform, orderly and neat, in the middle of a war-zone floor. Just like Kyushi, when his brother first shrugged into the Intern uniform.
They all looked stupid and stiff, like they should be in Kenso, or Beru, or Sodaina, or wherever else—rich towns a few miles over, filled with white men and green cash and flashing neon lights of prospect Casinos—instead of here, in Shinwa, a beat-up poor town with myths and crimes and a few annual Festivals to be proud of.
Kettei looked more like Shinwa.
He fit right in. The outsider title no longer shared between Kyushi and him. They were from Sugisatta, before their parents died in a crash and Kyushi pulled them down to Shinwa to be near their Uncle. His brother worked for Uncle Taeru and forgone University until Kettei hit high school.
The thing was: Kyushi retained gratification and determination—enough to graduate with a certificate in Forensics, enough to get job in the Police force, enough to be great and wealthy and owned a house. They might not have been rich in Sugisatta, but it was evidented in Kyushi’s stance, his gait, his upperclass dialect and talk—that he was looking down on Shinwa as much as the Shinwa people looking down on him the outsider.
But Kettei was different. He scraped by high school, failed University. Couldn’t get a job at all. He wanted to be an Officer, too, someday, but he knew he never will. He worked in Uncle Taeru’s butcher shop in some odd days.
He didn’t remember when he started drinking and smoking, he only remembered the liberated sensation. He didn’t remember when he started gambling and losing, he only remembered the fleeting thrill.
He didn’t remember when he started to become the all-star loser of the town, though he was happy that finally, when they compared Kettei to Kyushi, the Fushigina brothers were in separate categories.
…….
“Are you aware of the debt your brother and uncle are paying off?” Gaido asked, and Kettei stalked upstairs. He steps were sloppy and loopy, but he was slow and deliberate. As though, waiting for more.
He knew lectures too well. By heart, already. It was a routine for Kettei to listen and scorn at any new enlightened part.
Usually, there was nothing new.
“It’s a grand total of a four-digit number, Kettei-kun,” Gaido stated. “It’s very selfish of you to leave your mess for somebody else to clean up.”
I’ve never be noble.
He wasn’t in the mood to ridicule anybody today, though. There was a tired slougish started to blanket him, the cold water Gaido forced down his throat worked its magic, shooing the booze away and now left Kettei with a long night to fall asleep.
He paused mid-way, leaning against the banister, turning and said, “I’ll get Kyushi for you.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Gaido started.
Kettei was already down the hall, rattling the door open. “Onīsan,” He flicked on the light, eyes dragging slowly across the rumbled, unmade beds. “Gaido-san is here—”
He stopped short, words hitched in his lungs.
Horror, shock, terrified, shame, regret—all clumped together and knocked him unconscious.
…….
Kettei didn’t remember when he started wanting to die, but he pretty sure he never thought his brother would beat him to it.
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