Chapter 2: HARUHO

HARUHO

*AT ROUGHLY TWELVE P.M. THE PREVIOUS DAY*

“Oh no, sir! Watch out!!”

This was something I shouldn’t have been used to, but I was used to it. My life flashing before my eyes... 

This time, it was an old memory of my brother and I using Mom’s old yellow blanket as a Nimbus again, sliding around the house until I broke my toe on the corner of a wall. I wasn’t the invincible Saiyan I had imagined I was. Stupid Haruki didn't let me forget it for a second. He had laughed at me all afternoon while I’d temporarily hated him for slamming me into a wall.

It was all smiles and laughter back then.

Presently, though, I was falling face-first down a steep flight of stairs in the rumored-cursed stairwell of my workplace. My employees were watching... again. Last time, I had fallen while going up the stairs and my middle finger had snapped in the weirdest way. There had been some worried shouts for me at that time, but those didn't compare to what I heard now.  It was a chorus of "Boss! ... BOSS!!" 

I could hardly hear them because my mind was all: It has to end sometime… Sayonara.

Except, I was being dramatic because the most I suffered was a broken leg. Today, I was in a brand-new cast, and my doctor insisted I could be back to work, on crutches, in two days. Woo-hoo! It was somehow worse than dying… Knock on wood.

Stretched out on the couch in my living room, I stared ahead at the black TV screen. It took up most of the blank, white wall, offering some form of decoration. My condo was cold, always, and as barren as I felt inside most days. Though I owned a TV, the swirls patterned into the ceiling design were my primary source of entertainment whenever I was at home. I just had no energy to see peoples’ happy lives—real or pretend—on my TV screen.

Did I need a reminder that I was growing older, lonelier, and more pathetic by the day?

Just when I had resolved to wallow in my self-pity with misplaced pride, my cellphone started ringing on the glass coffee table before me.

“Do I move to get it, or not?” I asked the ceiling swirls. I let the phone ring another two times before I used my heavy limbs to roll over and snatch it off the coffee table. Seeing that it was my brother, a small smile formed on my lips. “Hey, you— You’re late!” I said, “I’ve been waiting for you to call. You’ll never guess what happened to me at work yesterday.”

There was a short silence on the other end before I heard, “Uh, sorry, man. This might sound weird, but I have this guy here who says you’re his kid brother and, sorry to be frank, but I’m gonna need you to come pick him up ASAP.”

I shot up to a sitting position, “Pick him up? What happened to him?” Panic had my heart racing, “Is he okay?”

“He’s a damn mess.” Came the reply.

“… He’s… Okay… So he’s fine or—?”

“He is a damn nuisance.” Said the person with my brother’s phone. Listening carefully, I could hear some noises in the background. Some clinking and bumping. Some… sobbing? “So, can you come if I give you my address? Because he needed to be gone, like, hours ago.”

“O-Oh! Uh…” The stranger’s voice snapped me back to attention. “I actually can’t drive right now, you see… B-But I can send a driver!”

Is what I said, but I had already sent Mr. Tomuo home for the day seeing as I wouldn’t be going anywhere for a bit.

“Okay, sounds goo—”

“Scratch that.” I mumbled impishly.

There was a pause on the other end. “…Scratch that?? What the f—Are you messing with me?”

“No! I—um, sorry to ask but… Could you possibly drive him here? I’ll give you my address.”

“Dude.”

“A-And some money for your troubles!”

I waited for several seconds while sounds absolutely raged in the background of this person’s call. The unmistakable sounds of tumbling, thrashing, and sobbing filled my ears. My brother's voice was clear as day.

Is he screaming ‘Rose?’ I thought. Heat rushed to my cheeks as embarrassing images of my older brother causing some stranger distress flooded my mind. I’d seen him drunk before and it was never pretty.

It must be bad in there, I guessed. “I’ll—uh—give you double whatever amount you set.” I offered, though I wasn't sure if this man would accep-- 

“Deal. Address.”

Well…

Okay.

I busied myself with doing absolutely nothing for the next hour until I received a call on the house phone. From my position on the couch where I had practically become a log, I stretched and stretched -- and stretched -- to the right where the end table was and pressed the ‘intercom’ function to pick up the call.

“Sir,” said the building’s head clerk, “a gentleman is here to apparently… deliver your elder brother to you?”

“Yes, that’s right. You can send them up.” I answered.

He hummed. “Your brother is… a little… Inebriated…”

“Yes, yes. Send them up.”

The clerk cleared his throat. “Very well,” he said and ended the call.

I sighed, my favorite thing to do, and tossed my head back against the couch cushions as I waited. Thoughts plagued my mind, their favorite thing to do, and I wondered how I would help my brother keep this incident from our father. While I was praying that he didn’t make it onto any sort of internet or news outlets, the doorbell rang.

“Coming,” I mumbled pointlessly. I hobbled to the front door on my new crutches and swung it open with the same false confidence I showed my employees.

And then I stopped.

And stared like a creep for a good twelve seconds, those long-ass sort of seconds where the person being stared at just blinks until things get awkward and they look away.

I had locked eyes with the stranger who stood supporting my brother’s weight the moment I opened the door. He had incredible almond-shaped eyes that seemed to pierce right through me. There was no gleam to them. In fact, his eyes at first appeared as dull as my own, except his still had life in them. A low fire.

Under his gaze, I felt seen… like I could feel any damn way I pleased and be public about it -- rough, torn up, despairing -- and he would never judge me for it. I instantly wished I had known this person my whole life.

Ha.

When he looked away, I was then drawn to his slightly freckled cheeks and strands of curly black hair that fell just short of his eyes. His nose was small, making his eyes stand out and contrast with his angled jawline. He also seemed slightly rugged, capable, and muscular the way he was bodily supporting my brother, who I knew from experience was heavy.

In truth, I was blatant and absorbed in checking this guy out.

“Um… Excuse me?” The stranger began, to which I violently jerked backward and scooted out of the doorway. I had moved so fast I lost my balance and smacked my back against the wall.

SO ungraceful. 

“Thanks…” He said, his voice filled with questions and possibly discomfort. It made me want to slap myself.

But… I think I noticed him smiling as he walked past.

Just a little.