subjecta0-thewriter-blog

[subjecta0-thewriter-blog]

Apartment 202

“Yes, mom, I’m here. Fourth floor, 202. No, I’m not promising I’ll behav-“, a loud roll of the eyes, inaudible to the other side of the phone, silences the screeching of small, plastic wheels against the floor, dragged around with a little too much luggage inside. It stops as the front door of the apartment swings open with a not so careful kick.

Hands holding onto a big enough cardboard box to hide her small frame, overflowing of every size and color of books, small figurines and every possible snack she could find at the nearest konbini. Before her, her new apartment. Well, his apartment and her room, would be more accurate. Her eyes take a quick scan around the room. He’s been living alone for a while and it shows.

Neat. Minimal. Strict. Masculine… A fancy word to say lifeless, she thought. She didn’t want to be rude, but the matte grey and off-white walls with a single frame in the middle of the living room, just on top of the small charcoal sofa, firm enough to be uncomfortable, with only one throw pillow –black-  screamed that a single boring man lived here. One she knew all too well for her liking.

The coffee table is clean. Spotless. Like it was placed by someone who doesn’t believe in feet-on-furniture or coasters.

No rugs.

Why bother? They just collect dust.

There’s a TV mounted on the wall.

No visible remotes. No gaming consoles.

Just a stack of volleyball match analysis notebooks on the shelf beside it.

She didn’t realize she was staring, not having stepped in at all until the phone buzzes with her mum’s voice from the other side of the line.

“Haru, you still there?"

Snapping out of her daze, she presses harder the phone on her shoulder to her ear, Posture crooked at an odd angle while balancing the stuff on her arms, barely holding it together.

"Yeah yeah, just getting myself comfortable".

"Don’t get too comfortable, ‘kay? It’s your brother who we’re talking about and H-"

"I know, I know. I know better than to get on the nerves of that grumpy old man. I’ll try my best not to".

As she settles down her belongings on the floor, hand letting go of the suitcase’s handle, it flies back to the phone squeezed between her ear and shoulder, taking a hold of it in a more normal position. Her mum’s voice still reprimanding her for wanting to annoy her brother, and even though she rolls her eyes, a small smile creeps up to her lips. Maybe not to small since an I know you’re smiling can be heard from the other side of the phone with a tone that is pretty much holding back her own smile but trying to stay serious. As her mother keeps rambling, she wills herself to take a closer look around, curiosity getting the best of her.

Walking around, she peeks at the shelf next to the sofa, and now that she’s closer, she can see that the match analysis notebooks are color-coded and dated. Just next to them, some trophies from states, to national level games. Pins, badges, and even a whistle on top of drills, nutrition, and biomechanics books. And next to them, on the top shelf, 3 different sized and colored frames. The biggest one, a spiky haired-man in the middle, stone-faced but a small quirk of his lips, surrounded by red shirt monsters sweating, smiling, dazed fueling their auras, bouncing off the polished court beneath them. The second one, a wooden frame with two boys, a younger version of her brother, stubborn hair and annoyed eye-roll directed to an all too smug, too charming and iditiotic male brunette next to him, both holding each other’s back. And the last one, in a chipped wooden frame, her own eyes stare back at her, with a mischievous glint twin to the one in her brother’s gaze, back to back, hands full of cicadas, dirt tainting their features.

A soft laugh escaped her lips as she remembers the day of that picture. Oh those days…

"You heard me, Haruka".

Her mom’s stern voice comes through the phone.

"Loud and clear, mamma".

Her feet drag her to the other side of the apartment, and the growling in her stomach drives her straight to the kitchen. Compact and precise. Knives aligned like surgical tools. One cutting board. Two plates. Two mugs. One saucepan.

I live alone. Why would I need more than one pan? She remembers, her brother’s voice bouncing in her mind.

Protein powder on the counter. A bowl of fruit he probably replaces every Sunday.

The fridge is a testament to discipline: Eggs. Chicken. Spinach. Yogurt. Prepped meals in airtight containers. A bottle of soy sauce. Nothing else.

No magnets.

No notes.

No lighthearted anything.

This is going to be fun.

Opting for some leftover onigiri, she munched on it as she made her way through the hall. A simple plant at the far corner. Turning on the last door of the hall, she turns ths knob and is welcomed into a bare room.

No furniture.

No frames.

No forgotten stuff.

Nothing.

But a white sticky note on the wall.

Had to work, sorry for not welcoming you properly. Make yourself comfortable. See ya at night. Don’t eat my onigiri. – H

A slow look at the evidence in her hand makes her choke a laugh –and almost choke herself in the process- before her mom scolds her.

"You already did something, didn’t you?"

"No way, mamma".

A long sigh comes from the other end of the phone and to mind comes a picture of her mum pinching the bridge of her nose, exhausted, already regretting this decision.

"HARUKA, behave".

"I AIN’T DONE NOTHING YET!"

"... Aha".

Exasperated, her voice comes in to try and soothe her mum’s annoyance.

"Look, mum, we’re adults. Yeah, I know we haven’t been too close this past few years but Ha- "

"You didn’t even meet for Christmas. Not to mention your admission to med school".

She was taking too long to bring that up. What a surprise.

Then in a singy song voice, she answered:

"Least said, sooner mended".

Immediately after, she actually turned serious. Not stern, not mad, just… plain serious.

"We’ll make this work. Dunno how, don’t ask. I promise we won’t bite each other’s heads off. Until then, lemme settle in my new room and recharge my batteries. Anything else, mamma?"

"Just… take care. Of you. And him. Don’t be too stubborn, either of you".

" ‘kay, I’ll try my best".

" Love you, honey ".

A small, defeated smile tugged at the corners of her lips as her mom ended the call. With a soft sigh, she lifted her head and took a look around at the room. Hand brushing through her messy hair.

It will work. It has to.

And with that, she set herself to work.

The bed wasn’t going to set up on its own, after all.

Round trips to the kitchen, the entrance and her dorm, hands full of things, bags, or boxes to carry. She didn’t notice when the sun set. Neither the ringing of her phone, as no notification would interrupt the blasting music coming from it. That’s why she probably never noticed the texts and voice mails from a certain grumpy old man.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Around 8 o’clock, heavy footsteps echoed from the hall. Slow, precise. The shuffle of keys and the turn of the knob went unnoticed, too. Taking off his jacket and shoes, he turned around to find the apartment empty. Confused, he peeked around, as if expecting something to jump out of nowhere. Or rather… someone.

He fished for his phone, unlocking it and going straight for his mamma’s last text.

She’s already there. Take care of her. AND BEHAVE

Shutting it, he went for the empty room that he designated as hers. But when he reached for the knob, his hand froze for a moment, holding the cold metal in his fingertips.

This is a new beginning. It’s just her. She doesn’t bite.

A pause.

Well… she usually doesn’t.

A long breath made him ready for what his future may hold. Ready to face whatever came, he turned the knob faster, before he could retreat back to his room.

Pushing open the door, he stood there for a moment. This morning, he had left earlier than usual. He refused to believe he was avoiding her, convincing himself he had to talk to the boys about the upcoming match. But before he left for the gym, duffel bag in hand, he had walked into this exact room some hours ago. It was empty, blank walls, deprived of life and any energy it could muster up. But now, he could tell she was here to stay.

Because now, there was a bed on the far corner, fluffy pillows with different shapes and textures. A small box next to it, with a tulip shaped night lamp on it, resting on a pile of huge books. Lots of books scattered all over the room; some depicting muscles, others some sort of organ that was probably human. A skeleton on the opposite side of the room, a Gryffindor scarf held tight around its neck. Her clothes lied folded in different piles sorted by color and garment. Finally, some artificial plants hung around her bed, framing it along with tiny fairy lights.

Here she was, all of her and her weird presence.

A slight snore caught his attention, coming from a pile of boxes and books. When he got closer, he found his wild gremlin, fast asleep, curled up on the floor. Glasses askew and a tiny puddle of drool pooling in the middle of the page, blurring the messy writing around an image that looked like a heart cut in half.

He shook his head. You little gremlin…

He shook his head lightly, guilty of a smile he wouldn’t admit to her face.

Not yet, at least.

So, as insufferable as she is, she’s still his sister and she’s not sleeping on the floor on her first night living with him –he would never hear the end of it coming from his mom-. Holding her like a malicious cat, he dragged her to her bed, where he “kindly” let her fall limp onto the mattress. Still fast asleep, now he could see her with more clarity. Her small nose, the mole next to her mouth. Her face seemed so delicate, so childish… But she always looked like a child to him. Yet, after 2 years of not seeing her, she wasn’t that small high schooler anymore. Her frame wasn’t small either. She had grown an inch at least, and definitely had been working out during this time. But she was Haru. His sister Harumi.

Now he had to look after her.

And he didn’t know how well it would go.

But now, there was no turning back.

This new chapter was just starting.

He tucked her in, moving her head so that it lied on top of a fluffy star shaped pillow. Untied her bun and let her stubborn hair cover the entirety of the pillows closest to her. He stared at her for a moment; he couldn’t deny he had missed his little sister, as idiotic and hot-headed as she can get.

"Sleep tight, gremlin".

He whispered, ruffling her air before straightening up.

He probably didn’t notice her stirring awake, and the slight movement of her eyelids to take a look around at her surroundings. But when her eyes opened at the feeling of a hand on her hair, she was met with a black tag embroidered into a red polo.

MSBY Headcoach

It took her brain a few seconds to understand the words. But when it finally clicked, she looked up at him. By the time she did, hearing his whispered words, he turned around and headed for the door. On his back, the word COACH could be read in white letters.

"You too, Hajime-san".

[subjecta0-thewriter-blog]

Game On!

Hey guys!!! Obviousy I'm new around here. But, hey! I'm planning to make of this tumblr a fanfiction one. My mind always thinks of the marauders (HP), the gladers (TMR), etc. It would be great receiving requests, but logically, I'd need to show my writing first. I'll be working on it!