chien_rouge525 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chien_rouge525) wrote2015-08-31 08:01 pm
chien_rouge525) wrote2015-08-31 08:01 pm
A Christmas Act Chapter 2
I’ll admit. I never looked forward to Christmas, not after what happened. But the sight is something to behold.
Sidewalks covered in ice, ponds, lakes and rivers froze looked like an aquarium, frozen at the surface, but fish swam underneath it. Once or twice too many times, I’ve seen a professor of ours fishing. The chill isn’t altogether bad thanks to the warmth you could almost feel emanating from the houses that lined the streets. Colourful lights lit up at night and the cheery Christmas spirit spiralled through the air.
We got to my neighbourhood, starting to finally get the frostbite and relieved to see that oversized box of memories.
“Hey Aiba.”
I stopped. “Hm?”
Nino looked at me again, his mouth moving to say something, but at the last minute Nino thought twice and shook his head. “Nothing. Never mind. I wanted to say hurry up. I’m fucking freezing here. “
“Oh...kay. But you’re the one slowing me down.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Flashing each other a mischievous grin, we sprinted uphill.
----------------------
We arrived at the door panting, our lungs nearly collapsing and just downright cold.
“God dammit, we shouldn’t do that again.” He struggled to get out in between huffs and puffs.
“But it was fun...ah leave your things there. And come up to my room.”
“Can I use your kitchen for a bit? And shit. Turn on the heater!” Now that he mentioned it, it felt like Siberia in here. I sprinted to the basement and turned on the heater, coming out after a few seconds to watch Nino dressed in an apron get his hands busy around the pots and pans. I stood in the doorway, his back turned to me.
“Oh , you’re making dinner?”
“How does nikujaga sound?”
“Yahoo! I’ll grab the pot.”
“No.” He said, his eyes glued to the fridge and rummaging through it. “I’ll get it myself. Go get the console ready.” He mumbled something under his breath and closed the fridge. “Well don’t just stand there. Get up there and get the console ready.”
“R-right.” Did I just feel heat rush to my head just now? “Sure you don’t need any help.”
“I’d rather not have an airhead around my kitchen.”
I chuckled lightly. I know better than to argue with that.
With that thought in mind, I started up stairs, leaving creaking sounds behind me.
The hallway upstairs contained only 3 things: my room, the master and a ladder that stood in the middle of the hall, leading upwards to the attic door, respectively. Every time I would go up, the first thing that would greet me would be that, the ladder. Looking back, why did I never leave the house?
After the funeral, my uncle had come to pick me up but I had refused to go with him and insisted and begged to my family to let me keep the house. After a few pushing they finally let up, on the condition that all my finances would be covered by them. Whether it was out of pity or they truly want to look to look out for me, minded me not in the least. I was happy enough assured that I owned the house.
“Ah it’s on. “ I had just finished installing the console and the game, but I could tell Nino wasn’t done yet when the sound of chopping echoed downstairs. I glanced at the clock and estimated the time he would be done.
“I could use some shut eye.”
I plopped myself on my bed and connected me to my dreamscape.
It was a blank space. White as far as the eye could see. I was alone sitting in that white terrain, but not for long when a child, around the age of 6 or 7 rushed past me. Suddenly the scenery changed and I was inside a dim house with only the candles acting as a way of light. It was warm, and I realized I was standing by the door, the heat coming from the candles, reaching me.
“Happy Birthday Aiba!” A cheerful face came from beside me.
Mom.
“Is that cake!?”
“I baked it myself! Hah!”
This was...that night.
My birthday night. I remember everything vaguely. Food on the table, minimal presents and the hideous cake Mom baked. I remember it tasted as bad as it looked. Maybe even worse. But no matter how bad it was.
“I-It’s good...Mom...”
“It’s that good that it brings tears to your eyes? I must be getting good.”
“Actually it’s not.” Younger version of me sniffed, my mom in turn, looked shocked. “It’s seriously bad. Like what did you put in it?”
“But I did my best to follow the cook book!” she looked down, but I wasn’t done.
“But...” younger me sniffed again. “...it’s better than anything you’ve ever made!”
My mom had tears in her eyes as she hugged me and presented my presents. We were laughing and singing songs and playing jokes with each other. Just the two of us.
And then, I was outside. Heavy snow and traffic and a crowd of people were gathered at an intersection.
And in the midst of it all: a heavily beat up Cooper and a heavy truck turned to its side, blood flowing had stained the snow covered roads.
A woman lightly dressed sprawled on the ground.
My hands were immediately on my head. I got to my knees and the last thing I remember was screaming before my dreamscape collapsed.
My eyes flew open and there I was lying on my bed, tears trickling on the sides of my face, a figure loomed over me shouting my name.
“Aiba! Shit! What the hell!?”
It took me a few seconds before registering who it was when I smelled the faint scent of condiments and spices. “N-Nino?”
“I ran up here when I heard screaming. I thought there was a burglar, but you were sleep talking, squirming. My God, you’re sweating.” He touched my forehead and wiped off the beads of sweat forming in my brows before looking back to me again, his eyes full of concern and, genuine desire to know what had riled me up so much. “I’ll...get you some water.” He stood up, but I quickly grabbed him by the arm. He didn’t look back though.
“Is...” I gulped, letting go of him.“Is the nikujaga ready?”
“Come down when you’ve calmed down.” And then he left.
Sidewalks covered in ice, ponds, lakes and rivers froze looked like an aquarium, frozen at the surface, but fish swam underneath it. Once or twice too many times, I’ve seen a professor of ours fishing. The chill isn’t altogether bad thanks to the warmth you could almost feel emanating from the houses that lined the streets. Colourful lights lit up at night and the cheery Christmas spirit spiralled through the air.
We got to my neighbourhood, starting to finally get the frostbite and relieved to see that oversized box of memories.
“Hey Aiba.”
I stopped. “Hm?”
Nino looked at me again, his mouth moving to say something, but at the last minute Nino thought twice and shook his head. “Nothing. Never mind. I wanted to say hurry up. I’m fucking freezing here. “
“Oh...kay. But you’re the one slowing me down.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Flashing each other a mischievous grin, we sprinted uphill.
----------------------
We arrived at the door panting, our lungs nearly collapsing and just downright cold.
“God dammit, we shouldn’t do that again.” He struggled to get out in between huffs and puffs.
“But it was fun...ah leave your things there. And come up to my room.”
“Can I use your kitchen for a bit? And shit. Turn on the heater!” Now that he mentioned it, it felt like Siberia in here. I sprinted to the basement and turned on the heater, coming out after a few seconds to watch Nino dressed in an apron get his hands busy around the pots and pans. I stood in the doorway, his back turned to me.
“Oh , you’re making dinner?”
“How does nikujaga sound?”
“Yahoo! I’ll grab the pot.”
“No.” He said, his eyes glued to the fridge and rummaging through it. “I’ll get it myself. Go get the console ready.” He mumbled something under his breath and closed the fridge. “Well don’t just stand there. Get up there and get the console ready.”
“R-right.” Did I just feel heat rush to my head just now? “Sure you don’t need any help.”
“I’d rather not have an airhead around my kitchen.”
I chuckled lightly. I know better than to argue with that.
With that thought in mind, I started up stairs, leaving creaking sounds behind me.
The hallway upstairs contained only 3 things: my room, the master and a ladder that stood in the middle of the hall, leading upwards to the attic door, respectively. Every time I would go up, the first thing that would greet me would be that, the ladder. Looking back, why did I never leave the house?
After the funeral, my uncle had come to pick me up but I had refused to go with him and insisted and begged to my family to let me keep the house. After a few pushing they finally let up, on the condition that all my finances would be covered by them. Whether it was out of pity or they truly want to look to look out for me, minded me not in the least. I was happy enough assured that I owned the house.
“Ah it’s on. “ I had just finished installing the console and the game, but I could tell Nino wasn’t done yet when the sound of chopping echoed downstairs. I glanced at the clock and estimated the time he would be done.
“I could use some shut eye.”
I plopped myself on my bed and connected me to my dreamscape.
It was a blank space. White as far as the eye could see. I was alone sitting in that white terrain, but not for long when a child, around the age of 6 or 7 rushed past me. Suddenly the scenery changed and I was inside a dim house with only the candles acting as a way of light. It was warm, and I realized I was standing by the door, the heat coming from the candles, reaching me.
“Happy Birthday Aiba!” A cheerful face came from beside me.
Mom.
“Is that cake!?”
“I baked it myself! Hah!”
This was...that night.
My birthday night. I remember everything vaguely. Food on the table, minimal presents and the hideous cake Mom baked. I remember it tasted as bad as it looked. Maybe even worse. But no matter how bad it was.
“I-It’s good...Mom...”
“It’s that good that it brings tears to your eyes? I must be getting good.”
“Actually it’s not.” Younger version of me sniffed, my mom in turn, looked shocked. “It’s seriously bad. Like what did you put in it?”
“But I did my best to follow the cook book!” she looked down, but I wasn’t done.
“But...” younger me sniffed again. “...it’s better than anything you’ve ever made!”
My mom had tears in her eyes as she hugged me and presented my presents. We were laughing and singing songs and playing jokes with each other. Just the two of us.
And then, I was outside. Heavy snow and traffic and a crowd of people were gathered at an intersection.
And in the midst of it all: a heavily beat up Cooper and a heavy truck turned to its side, blood flowing had stained the snow covered roads.
A woman lightly dressed sprawled on the ground.
My hands were immediately on my head. I got to my knees and the last thing I remember was screaming before my dreamscape collapsed.
My eyes flew open and there I was lying on my bed, tears trickling on the sides of my face, a figure loomed over me shouting my name.
“Aiba! Shit! What the hell!?”
It took me a few seconds before registering who it was when I smelled the faint scent of condiments and spices. “N-Nino?”
“I ran up here when I heard screaming. I thought there was a burglar, but you were sleep talking, squirming. My God, you’re sweating.” He touched my forehead and wiped off the beads of sweat forming in my brows before looking back to me again, his eyes full of concern and, genuine desire to know what had riled me up so much. “I’ll...get you some water.” He stood up, but I quickly grabbed him by the arm. He didn’t look back though.
“Is...” I gulped, letting go of him.“Is the nikujaga ready?”
“Come down when you’ve calmed down.” And then he left.