"Sup, Mom! Sup, Dad!"
The voice of the tan woman rang through the halls of the house.
She took her boots off by the entrance, placing her right hand against the wooden wall, ignoring the burns beneath her hoodie's sleeves, and focusing on the familiar touch. One she had not felt for many years now.
"We're in the living room, Yumi!"
So, the woman slowly made her way throughout the house. Her hand remaining on the white wall as she felt her way to the destination.
A brown leather chair with bear hide sewed onto the seat. In the chair, a tan man with a grey, fluffy beard sat, eyes closed, chin tilted down so he stared into his lap. The quiet sounds of snoring coming from the man's dried lips.
And beside the man, on a couch sat an elderly woman. Wrinkly face, large deep blue glasses. Weak hands seemingly struggling to hold onto knitting needles. What looked to be a soon-finished pair of knitted socks residing in the woman's lap. A snowy white yarn transformed into something almost wearable.
"I'm sorry your sister couldn't make it.."
"It's fine, really. She's probably got better stuff to do.. like taking a load to the face-"
But before the young woman could finish her sentence, she found herself getting poked in the arm by one of the needles. She could have swore for a second one of the blisters popped, but she had to hide the burn at all costs, so she kept the yelp in.
"Sorry."
She mumbled, sitting down on the couch beside her mother.
"It's still her fault for marrying a whore."
"A former whore."
Her mother corrected her, but she made sure to keep her sarcasm as clear as possible. For a woman in her sixties, she did a great job at being as rude as a teen.
"She wanted someone rich who was old, and experienced with his flesh. She got just that."
"I don't understand where I went wrong with her.."
"Well, some say, third time's the charm, eh?"
The older woman laughed dryly at the comment, placing her hand on her daughter's shoulder, patting it once, then twice.
"I'm far too old for such now. It's up to you to continue the legacy."
"we'll see about that..."
The tan woman muttered, not exactly sure how to answer to the statement. It wasn't like her family exactly knew her.. situation..
"But, enough about your sister, how are you doing, Yumi?"
"Eh? I'm fine. Planning on moving to a cheaper place, getting a decent job, and that's basically it."
"That's good to hear."
The elderly woman seemed relieved at her daughter's words however, the guilt in her smile was noticeable.
"I'm glad you still made it out in life.. despite our cruelty.."
"Relax, it's fine. I would've kicked someone out too, if they spent more than they made, ate the fridge empty all the time, and fucked up their education."
The woman tried to be reassuring, patting her mother on the shoulder.
"But since I'm moving, I don't think I can visit as often. Getting plane tickets to Sapporo is starting to get expensive, not to mention the flight. We- I mean, I'm considering Gifu, heard it's real cheap."
"Oh, cheap it is. But you must remember that there's some bad neighbourhoods there.."
The elderly woman's concern seemed to grow once she heard the location of where her daughter was moving. So much so, she put her knitting tools down onto the table.
"Of course. I made sure it's in a safe neighbourhood..."
"Good! Good! It would break my heart to know you've been hurt in some way.."
"I've been living on my own for four years, Mom. It's gonna be fine.."
"right.."
Silence washed over them for a moment, before the elderly woman cleared her throat, slowly rising from the couch.
"Do you want some coffee, dear? I think I might have some cookies laying around here too.."
"Sure. I can stay for a bit longer, so I wouldn't mind free food."
As soon as she heard the words, the elderly woman hurried to the kitchen.
Meanwhile, another creature seemed to hear the words 'food,' and the sounds of groaning yawning appeared.
"I heard free food?"
The voice was deep, masculine, and thick with a Russian accent.
"Good morning, Папа. Glad to hear you're still alive."
"Ahh, my little нож.. You won't get rid of me for another three years."
He laughed, sitting up and patting the woman on the head.
"I thought the stroke had wiped your memory."
"Parts of it. Just don't tell your mother. She can be quite a сука sometimes, you know? Women."
"Of 'course. Women."
They shared a laugh, though it was short lived, as the elderly woman returned. A tray with three cups of warm coffee, and a jar of what appeared to be some sort of wheat cookies.
"You could stay for dinner if you want, Yumi. We're ordering takeout from Tamaokaya."
"Sure, I'll stay. Ain't got any plans, anyways."
"That's great, Yumi. I'll show you my knife collection then! It's quite evolved."
"Sure, Папа. But maybe later, I gotta make a phone call to my roommate. Tell her that I won't be home for dinner."
She patted her father on the shoulder, before rising from the couch.
"She's the type of gal to wait for me to come home before making something to eat. At least now she'll know I ain't comin'"
"Quite a roommate you have, then."
The elderly woman responded. Placing herself back down on the couch, reaching for her knitting as the woman exited through the front door.
***
"Yo, you alive?"
"yeah.. what's up, Yumi?"
The response came quickly, almost as soon as Yumi had even dialled the number in. Kiroku must have been waiting for her to call. Judging by her tired, clearly lonely voice, it must be the case.
"Uhh, hey, just wanted to call and tell you I'm eating over at my parents' place. I'll probably stay the night too.."
"okay.."
The reply that came was quick, but at the same time slow to exit.
"You know, I might have some antidepressants around. You sound like you could use them."
She replied playfully, trying to contrast the sad mood of the other woman.
"uh-huh.."
"..."
The loud sound of a palm striking ones forehead rang throughout the phone,
"Alright, Jesus, Kiro! I'm not mad at you for the breastfeeding thing! I'm at my parents' place 'cause I won't get to see them in a while!"
"you knew about that..?"
"Yes... I know about it.. And I'm not mad, okay?"
"okay.."
"I won't be home until like.. tomorrow afternoon.. Can you function like a regular human until then? Feeding yourself and stuff?"
"I don't know.."
"my body is having Yumi-Withdrawals.."
"good grief.."
The woman's patience was beginning to wear thin. Sure, it was cute to hear how much the woman loved her, but at the same time.. This was a 22 year-old university graduate. There is no reason for her to rely on someone for physical and emotional support after being left alone for only a couple hours..
"i feel drained... my body feels nothing.. i feel like my will to live might be wavering..."
"i hate myself for this.."
"i feel pathetic.."
"like a worm.."
"i have no reason to be like this.."
"so fucking pathetic.."
"so.. addicted to you.."
"so-"
"Alright! Alright! Jesus- I get it!"
The woman had interrupt the other. This phone call had been going on for far longer than necessary.
"Just survive until tomorrow! I'll be back as soon as possible then, okay?"
"fine.."
"Alright, love you!"
"love you, too.."
***
"Now this, one of my favourites. The Tom Brown Tracker! It's a great brown colour, left handed. Blade made out of 1095 carbon steel. Comin' in at roughly a pound and eight ounces, ya sure as hell don't wanna get hit by this thing."
The old man spoke with passion, holding and examining one of the many knives in the room. It was full of them, sorted and organised by category. Some knives even put on display in thick, clear plastic cases.
He threw the knife with precision towards a rugged wooden wall. One filled with cuts and small holes, haven taken clear abuse over the span of many years, on the wall hung three different sized boards, marked with smaller spots, clearly meant to be hit. With little resistance and spin, the knife got itself stuck in one of the spots.
"I prefer the Kershaw Livewire, or anything throwable. Yours are all so.. flashy.."
A quiet fwish sounded throughout the air, before the sound of metal against wood appeared, followed by a ringing from a small metal part hitting the floor.
"Ya missed."
The man pointed out smugly,
"Ya sure you're my daughter?"
"..."
"I haven't thrown in a while.."
The woman responded, a tinge of embarrassment in her voice as she awkwardly made her way over to the wall, crouching down to pick up the blade.
It was a throwing knife. It was all pale grey steel, a simple squared bottom that slowly curved into a sharp blade.
"Must be Parkinson getting to ya. You're shaking like a bi-bi-bitch!"
The man said jokingly, moving his arms side to side in a faking motion. Parts of the woman wanted to throw the knife straight at the old bastard, but had it not been for her entire right arm burning, and the fact that it was her father standing before her, she would have done it.
"Whatever.."
So, a simple eyeroll it was.
"The couch is ready for you, Yumi!"
And with the call from her mother, the lady found herself returning to the living room, putting an end to the embarrassment that occurred during the knife collection tour her father gave.
"I could've done it myself, Mom.."
She said simply, putting her right hand on her hip and leaning her open side against the door frame from the hall to the living room. Her eyes landed towards the couch.
What once used to be a comfortable and clean black leather couch had now become an eyesore. A large white sheet filled with a flower pattern coloured reminiscent of psychedelics, like a unicorn that recently threw up rainbows all over the beauty.
"Well, of course you could have, but you don't know where the sheets are, plus it would be rude of me to let you do all the work!"
The elderly woman explained, approaching the lady, stopping about two feet away, their eyes meeting. One expression turning into a smile, the other trying to mask their disgust for the couch.
"Now unfortunately, Sobirat and me are getting old, so we'll have to go to sleep early.. You however, can stay awake as lon as you want, okay?"
"Okay, Mom..."
"Not gonna give your Mom a goodnight hug?"
The elderly lady asked, almost sounding offended as she let out an exasperated gasp.
"Thought you weren't into that."
The woman responded, shrugging her shoulders before opening her arms, wrapping them around the elderly lady. She recoiled slightly when she felt arms wrap around herself, mostly the unbearable pain in her arm.
(I should have brought pain killers! GOD this is gonna be a long night..)