Lending a Hand

“So…you are sure didn’t make the pocket watches?” Misako asked me.

“I am very positive on that detail.” I replied.

The two of us made our way back home for the evening after the massive revelation. The night sky was beautiful once again. While I pushed Misako uphill, I was back within my thoughts, rearranging the pieces of the puzzle. Though, her scent was distracting me. Her hair smelt flowery and light, I thanked the wind for blowing the magnificent scent into my nostrils.

“I couldn’t have made them. I was a poor kid; I couldn’t afford to purchase the alloy to make the watches.” I said again.

“But then…your dad…didn’t he say he saw you make it? Did you lie to you?” Misako asked.

I shook my head.

“I don’t think he saw me make it. I think he saw me repairing it. I probably opened the watch to see why it wasn’t working. It falls in line since I never made watches any other watches at home.” I countered.

I explained to Misako my situation back home in Britain. My father was a widower for almost a decade, even before my mother’s passing, they struggled to buy me any watch that I wanted. I’d only received one watch from them my entire childhood, but I decided to keep that watch back home in Britain. I explained that because we were three brothers, finances were always rough around the home. When my mother was extremely ill, we rarely spent any more money on non-essential items, and after her death, we were in debt for many years. I was sure I could not have purchased the watch-alloys.

“Ah, I see…Sorry…” She commented after listening to me.

“Don’t be sorry.” I replied.

“It must’ve been hard for you to tell me all this…” She said, sullen.

“We are friends, friends tell each other things about their lives.” I countered.

“Friends…”

Misako was deep in thought as well. I had to admit that I did not notice she had changed her hairstyle until that moment. Her hair no longer was in a dual bun, it was loose and curled at the tips. She looked…beautiful, with her hair down. It complemented her frail frame entirely.

“But it doesn’t explain how we both got watches that are identical…” Misako spoke.

“True, that’s still a big mystery.” I agreed.

As we turned the corner to our house, I thought to turn in for the evening, to think about the new information gathered. But, at the front entrance stood two souls I hoped not to see stood in front of us: Yuta and Hiroshi. They stood in front of the house in only their pants, they were shirtless and covered with blue paint. In their hands were some sort of round objects.

“Hey, sis.” Yuta greeted.

Hiroshi was silent, he had a shell-shocked look on his face.

“What are you two idiots doing?” Misaka asked.

I preferred not to speak to them at all, letting Misako doing the conversating on our behalf.

“Painting.” Yuta replied.

“Painting what?” I finally asked.

I noticed Yuta held an object in hand, his hand gripped it like it were a weapon. Then, I realised:

“What is that in your hands.” I asked.

“A mwakeshwift bomb.” Yuta struggled to pronounce.

“What… do you need paint AND a makeshift BOMB for?” I demanded to know.

I saw Yuta’s gapped tooth smile as an answer.

My heart sank to the depths of my soul.

“I’m sorry,” Hiroshi finally spoke, “It just exploded everywhere…”

“EXPLODED?” I yelled.

I let go of Misako’s wheelchair, dashing inside the house and rushing up the stairs. I sped through the hallway to my room. And, as I opened my door…

I fell to my knees.

“Why is it blue…everywhere.” I commented.

I crawled to my bookshelf to inspect the damage. Everything was blue. My manga, my anime DVD’s my novels, action figures, and videogames… My bedding and schoolbooks, blue. I could feel a tear rush down my cheek. In the middle of the room was a destroyed paint can, evidence of an explosion was evident. They didn’t even have the decency to close my clothing-rack, ALL of my clothes were covered in blue paint.

“What was that…creature thinking?” I said as I sobbed.

“I wanted to redecorate.” Hiroshi playfully said as he approached from behind.

“I should kill you.” I muttered.

“I think it looks…nice?” Hiroshi said.

“My MayStation3…is blue. I used months of my allowance to buy it.”

“It should work still.” Hiroshi said.

He walked towards my console, clicking the button to turn it on. And it did not turn on.

“Oops.” Hiroshi admitted.