Musings of Izumi

There was no refuge for light in the late hours of evening then. The rustles of the last days of fall brushed upon the frayed branches that seemed like they were on their final lifeline. Soon, those leaves would surrender themselves to the unrelenting march of time, of the seasons. It would be only a few days before the first flakes of snow would pepper the ground and slowly transform it to a carpet of smooth white cotton. Yet then, the land was still barren—helplessly dead. It was without the comfort and serenity of snow, and replaced it with dried plants that were almost tinted an ashen grey of sickness. Upon a quick examination, one could see that the houses were of considerable quality. Sections of newly built asphalt roads lining the neatly arranged houses and apartments imparted an air of mismatched luxury. Even then, it could not dispel the rural flavor embedded deep in the roots of this area. It was so that the lifeless state of the suburbs at that time filled any wanderer with ample nervousness and, on chance, a bit of anxiety. The air was dampened by the earliest of evening mist that initiated claustrophobia even when there was boundless space. Despite the dreariness, there was a young man walking; following the edge of the pavement that connected with the dry gutters on the right of the road. His shoulders were slumped and his posture tired: one may even infer that he was dejected, possibly because of his partner's romantic affair he had just uncovered; it was by chance that inference was correct. After all, such an event would undoubtedly take a heavy toll on anyone's psyche, let alone one who was exhausted both mentally and physically. 'It was without doubt that, even with the strongest of wills, none can shake off the near-trademark feeling of early winter melancholia', thought the young man as he approached the towering building. 

The lobby leading up to the apartment was well-built if not somewhat murky with the poor lighting. The elevator ride up was quiet, if not so much so that it was causing distress, and between the mirrors shining his own image onto himself, he had done some self reflection. 'But, after all, it is what it is. There cannot be any world of which I do not seek for attention, to be loved. It is immensely foolish for me to be so greedy. I have enough of what I need. I must not further chase unnecessary ideals.' But there was only so much time available for a man in an elevator coming from the ground floor to the 13th. With a signature bell's ding, the slightly scratched metallic door opened into a standard hallway with somewhat yellowed walls, splotched with slightly tawny stains of indiscriminate origin. As the door to room 1304 yielded after the click of a key, he only so much as put away his suitcase, jacket, and tie before rushing to cook dinner using whatever remained in the fridge. Even if he was deathly tired, he had a family member to financially support and take care of. To loaf around would be undoubtedly unacceptable to his own standards. He was almost finished before a creak of the door announced that someone was home. If he had wanted to check, the sound of an ever familiar, tired voice. The sound of the only family member that has stuck with him through misery and perilous times, "Brother, I'm home…" Upon hearing her voice, he could almost collapse out of sheer exasperation, "Did you stay in the library again, now?" "Yeah, I was going to read a bit, but I fell asleep. Sorry…" came the answer. "I told you to go to sleep early, but you stayed up for the test. Even if you didn't, I'm sure you would get good grades with how much of a workaholic you are, Yuki.", "Hypocrite~ Says the one who wakes up at 4 and goes home at 9. You really don't examine yourself, Izumi Nakajima.", "Jeez, did that warrant a name usage? You made me think I just committed an inexcusable crime." Before long though, the bantering ceased, most likely because Izumi had exhausted all of his remaining energy to cook, clean up, and talk, 'Not that I mind though, talking with my sister is always worth the effort. Ugh… I hate having to shower after this, I need to plan my caffeine intake more optimally.' Both Izumi and his sister sat down to enjoy their meal; some pork miso soup, soft-boiled eggs, and stir-fried mushrooms. After depositing the dishes in the sink and washing them quickly, Izumi saw his sister just about collapse on the couch like a stack of cards, 'Makes sense, she was very tired.'

Coming out of the shower, hair still a bit damp, he took a peek outside on the sleeping girl; who was still face planted onto the fabric couch, curled in with her puffy jacket. 'Why does she have to be so sloppy..?' Kneeling beside Yuki, he spent some time admiring her gentle features, only heightened with a heavenly sleeping face and relaxed posture. With an index finger, Izumi lightly poked Yuki's cheek and stirred her up, "Huh? Brother? Just let me sleep…", "No can do, Yuki, you'll cramp your spine and sob in a corner tomorrow if you stay here. You haven't taken a shower yet.", " Please… It's so cozy. I didn't even sweat today, it was so cold." Without any further option, Izumi had to pick her up into the single bedroom, straining his already exhausted muscles to failure. Without any more energy after dropping Yuki into the twin bed adjacently right to the study desk—stacked full to the ceiling with old textbooks, Izumi dropped face first into their parent's bed in the other bedroom. With a thud indicating a collision, Izumi was—to his immense ire—unable to sleep, one of his usual bouts of insomnia kicked in as he was tired, but never able to get rest. After his parents left him alone with Yuki, he was often restless; part in anger, part in grief and remorse. He was, and is, still torn between empathy with his parents and extreme, bitter animosity. Perhaps this could all be reduced to Yuki. Their parents always had Yuki in their sights, as the favorite child, the one and only superior child. Yet still, they had abandoned her; still had they ran, each to their own way—away from each other and away from their responsibilities. Yes, they had hated each other from the start, but does that justify leaving a junior high girl and a newly graduated young boy off on their own? Emancipated? Of course, Izumi didn't really care about being left, he figured that it was all in due time for him. But for Yuki? He doubted it. That was only a year ago, and life was hell for him the last year. In fact, balancing college, caretaking, work, and finances was not a job fit for a newly graduated boy—very much so. He had terrible bags under his eyes, and everyday felt as if he was surviving on a hungry body and perpetually tired muscles. And the insomnia, oh damn the insomnia. Perhaps it was his mind, but he had gained an utmost antipathy for life itself. The entirety of his free time was spent trying to contain himself in society. The more he tried, the worse he did; it was the same as his sleep. He just wanted to rest, even for a bit. The idea of ending came, but there was no rationale behind it. 'Who would care for Yuki?' he thought, maybe a bit too loud and with a bit too much acrimony. There was enough evil in the world already, would he do the same, craven actions as his parents? No, never! For he believed that he must live with whatever dignity remained of himself, however groveling on the edge of cessation. As he relished in the everflowing warmth of rancor, he had struck a thought most ingenious. 'Was this hate, all of it, simply disguised pity for himself, manifested as an unhealthy obsession with Yuki? Akin to an apology for never being able to keep their parents together?', perhaps it was. Everything in his life revolved around Yuki. Caring for her, working, helping her with her studies. Why was he caring for her? Simply out of good will? Izumi did not know, and most likely, it didn't matter. What he did was always what mattered; what he thought should stay in his mind—as thoughts. Satisfied with the resolution of his internal struggle, Izuma drifted to a light sleep.

Izumi's sleep was abruptly broken by a weight on his abdomen, his eyes fluttered open and landed on the rivulets of raven hair splayed across his chest, draping down to cover her left eye. What could Izumi do now, but sigh in helplessness? 'Really… This girl is a mess… I really need to teach her some respect', Izumi thought, and so he gingerly nudged Yuki's sleeping form off of him; however much he liked it for things to keep being this way, Izumi had promised himself to not laze around when productive things could be done. But his newly stirred arm strength didn't fare well against Yuki's weight pressing onto him; she wasn't even half of his weight. From this, Izumi concluded that he had no survival instinct and would fare awfully in nature. "Please brother… Let me sleep…" What option did he have then? Izumi pondered to himself. And at once he had reached a thought lingering far back in the recesses of his disjointed, help-despairing mind: 'Yes, I understand now. This is why I care so much for Yuki. Maybe it's because she's the only one in my life. Maybe because she'is the only one to return my affections. What I am sure about, though, is that I love Yuki, from whatever remains in the withered fireplace of my heart. There will be a day, maybe tomorrow, maybe in a decade, but I know that there will be a time when Yuki finally leaves me. And then, I would be hopelessly alone. Thrown into my pathetic excuse of a life, a pitiful existence. Then, I may loathe myself however much I want. But for now, in the time that I have been given, I must love with everything I have left.'

And so, he slept.