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Verse
Star
- Joined
- May 8, 2011
Hakumura Kaga had grown up in this house. It had seen him as a sweet little thing, running around this living room in diapers and, from what he could tell from old photos, a fan with rainbow blades. He had hidden behind a long gone couch, which had stood on the windowside of this room, when mom played with him. That time she couldn't find him and he saw her cry from behind the armrest. He remembered that, didn't need old pictures to remind him. The same woman sat in a new couch now, on the shadowed side of the room. Beside her husband. Hakamura Kio, the head of their family, though Kaga would contest that if given half the chance.
It seemed that chance was coming now.
There had been a time when he'd dread coming home like this. The hall just before the lifted floors looked into the livingroom, as did the kitchen, separated from it only with a hip-height island and its drawers. Where mom would cook while dad would watch something. If he entered from the main door, and they were both staunchly sitting in the couch, straight-backed and stern, his heart would drop. Not that it happened often, when he was still that sweet little thing. Their sweet little thing.
But Kaga had another family now, one he lorded over. The boy who was technically an adult despite not leaving his teens yet, towered over most of his contemporaries. Long limbs and vast shoulders, though he retained that youthful slenderness. Today he'd draped a gray t-shirt over it. The jacket hung in the hall, over his shoes. He knew what this might be about. He'd done a number of things to deserve this kind of parental attention. There'd been organized theft, robbery and, his favorite, violence. Boys his age responded well to that, and there was plenty in Kaga to give. The angular features of his face were made even more so by his black hair being tied back, though it was barely long enough to be contained by the black rubber band. So when he looked at his parents, standing in front of the TV, he looked every bit the menace they were going to confront him about.
He folded his arms over a now rotten and elated heart and looked from his buxom mother to his large father. Kaga had inherited Kio's skeleton, even though the son had yet to fill it out with Kio's heft, Kaga did have a handful of inches on him. His head tilted and the grin that showcased the teeth that a short stint of braces a decade ago had fixed, out of their pocket, let them know just how much their son was lacking in remorse. He like to think of the other boys's face when he beat them soft, or the girls's expression when he held them down and filled them up. The night out there had so many new experiences for him. He almost blamed these two for teaching him to be good before teaching him to have fun. But he'd discovered it on his own. In spades.
"So, what do you guys have on your mind?" he asked, his voice stoic to start but with that hooligan pitch at the end. This confrontation was a long time coming, he hadn't really been subtle and it was just a matter of time before the parents of the other boys told.
It seemed that chance was coming now.
There had been a time when he'd dread coming home like this. The hall just before the lifted floors looked into the livingroom, as did the kitchen, separated from it only with a hip-height island and its drawers. Where mom would cook while dad would watch something. If he entered from the main door, and they were both staunchly sitting in the couch, straight-backed and stern, his heart would drop. Not that it happened often, when he was still that sweet little thing. Their sweet little thing.
But Kaga had another family now, one he lorded over. The boy who was technically an adult despite not leaving his teens yet, towered over most of his contemporaries. Long limbs and vast shoulders, though he retained that youthful slenderness. Today he'd draped a gray t-shirt over it. The jacket hung in the hall, over his shoes. He knew what this might be about. He'd done a number of things to deserve this kind of parental attention. There'd been organized theft, robbery and, his favorite, violence. Boys his age responded well to that, and there was plenty in Kaga to give. The angular features of his face were made even more so by his black hair being tied back, though it was barely long enough to be contained by the black rubber band. So when he looked at his parents, standing in front of the TV, he looked every bit the menace they were going to confront him about.
He folded his arms over a now rotten and elated heart and looked from his buxom mother to his large father. Kaga had inherited Kio's skeleton, even though the son had yet to fill it out with Kio's heft, Kaga did have a handful of inches on him. His head tilted and the grin that showcased the teeth that a short stint of braces a decade ago had fixed, out of their pocket, let them know just how much their son was lacking in remorse. He like to think of the other boys's face when he beat them soft, or the girls's expression when he held them down and filled them up. The night out there had so many new experiences for him. He almost blamed these two for teaching him to be good before teaching him to have fun. But he'd discovered it on his own. In spades.
"So, what do you guys have on your mind?" he asked, his voice stoic to start but with that hooligan pitch at the end. This confrontation was a long time coming, he hadn't really been subtle and it was just a matter of time before the parents of the other boys told.
