"So you do have a heart after all"

Genkei was staring as if he was waiting for a game cutscene to end so he can continue playing. It was drizzling outside and Fusao was getting wet.

"..."

"Can I come in?"

"Sure..."

Genkei stood at the front door like a statue and there wasn't space for him to walk past. Fusao had thinned his smile from displeasure but didn't show his hostility. His lips were pressed firmly together, halfway between a frown and a smile. It was obvious that Genkei held disdain for him especially since his mother died.

'I can't wait to get out of here too old man.'

Fusao didn't cry about his mother but he didn't hate her anymore either. There was no point resenting the dead after all. After a while, Genkei finally registered and went inside leaving the door open. Fusao's business suit and red shirt were already soaked. Fusao stomped inside and firmly closed the door.

He turned back in time to see Genkei slump back onto the couch watching TV. Garbage. There was literally trash everywhere from beer cans, food wrappers, plates of food and meat on the floor around the couch and the table. It was something he was familiar with and reminded him of why he left in the first place.

He could live with it, but it was the never-ending conflicts and abuse in the house. Since his mother was gone, it was even worse. He could tell that his old man neglected to at least stuff them in black trash bags like he used to. Maybe this was what changed since he left the house or maybe it was because his mother died. Fusao didn't know.

"When's the funeral?" Fusao asked.

"..."

'Is there not going to be one?' He thought.

Genkei made more money than his wife working in a factory but didn't have any savings. His mother was only a bit better but still splurged. Now that the money maker of the house was gone, things would be financially difficult.

Genkei didn't love his wife so perhaps he didn't bother arranging a funeral but also because it would save a lot more money that way.

'Still... he's not?'

Even Fusao wasn't petty - that is when concerning the death of his mother. He wasn't close to his mum but he was still shocked that Genkei didn't seem like he would be organising a funeral. It was cold and unlike the quick-tempered Father of his.

Fusao was puzzled but didn't contemplate for long. Genkei didn't answer now, but he'll find out later anyway. Ultimately it didn't matter to Fusao.

"I'll be sleeping over here for a few days then. You guys didn't trash my room, did you?"

Fusao got to the point. It was obvious how they felt about each other already.

"..."

Fusao didn't wait for him to answer and walked upstairs to his room. When he opened the door, it smelt musty and old. It wasn't too dusty as it seemed his mother wiped it from time to time... All his stuff was left mostly in the same place but everything was tidy and packed away.

Fusao had severed all ties with his parents since he left home. Not a visit or a call. He was numb to everything they said and did but his heart lurched looking at his room. It was as if his mother cleaned the place expecting that he would come home one day. His mother who was an awful person.

'Maybe she wasn't that bad...'

Fusao shook his head at that thought. He knew that it was only her death that made him sympathetic. He spent 19 years defending himself and pleaded her to stop hurting him and to change. She promised she would. She never did.

If he waited for things to change in that house, he would have hanged himself by now. He learnt life the hard way. Just because your mother gave birth to you, didn't mean that she was made to love and protect you. If she did, one was simply lucky.

He walked downstairs solemnly. He stood at the base of the stairs and stared at his father watching TV. Genkei had glazed eyes and was watching the tv with a blank stare.

Now that he thought of it, his short-fused father hardly reacted at all or took advantage of his mother's death- at least not in the rough manner he usually did... Fusao was chilled to the bone but he didn't shiver. There was a stark contrast between a survivor shivering in a blanket from a traumatic experience and someone who had gone numb after losing a loved one.

'Is this how it feels? Heh.'

That would have meant Fusao was affected by his mother's death after all. He refused to believe it. His father must be going through a rough time too because he was out of his element.

The two men stayed silent in the room for a couple of minutes. There was an elephant in the room. The silence was deafening because of the sorrow that was suggested in the void.

Yet, there was a bit of comfort because Fusao felt that they were both going through the same thing. For the first time, he was in a room with his father and they weren't fighting. The fact that his father is usually rowdy and loud spoke volumes about his feelings.

'So, you do have a heart after all old man...'

There was a bit of blood smeared on the corner of Genkei's lip. Fusao saw this and looked toward a piece of bone with some meat left on it. The red meant that it was raw. The old man loved eating rare but even this is a bit much.

'He didn't even bother?'

"Tsk, geezer, you gotta take care of your health. Eating raw like that you could die from some disease."

Fusao was annoyed that he sounded like his mum.

"Let me heat it for you."

After seeing that Genkei didn't react, he lifted the plate and went to the kitchen. There were dirty dishes in the sink and red messes on the kitchen bench and tap handle.

Irritated, Fusao navigated and handled the place with kitchen wipers. He did a bit of cleaning that he needed and popped the meat on a pan and started cooking.

He wasn't doing this for Genkei, he was starving and wanted to eat something too. All this was to butter the old man up so he could stay here for a while. He was flipping the meat around with a spatula and it was almost ready.

Fusao's mouth was watering.

'Damn, this smells really good. What is this meat?'

A dark shadow appeared from behind Fusao. Genkei's arm reached out to grab him just as Fusao turned around.