The Stray

Part 14 - On the Other Side of the Window

I'm spoiling you all! I just gave you what you all wanted in the last chapter and now I'm spoiling you again in this one. I seem to have no concept of moderation . . .

Ah, well, it's my job to spoil you than rip your hearts out with an ice pick.

The wonderful perks of being a writer.

Also, I had a lot of difficulties writing his thoughts in this one . . . it was just a giant struggle and I hope I did him justice in this chapter.

Enjoy!

~ Nezumi

Image link:  https://i.pinimg.com/564x/e8/a0/23/e8a023b7570cd4ca84ff7bc37ef30760.jpg

On the Other Side of the Window

Walking down the street, with my hands stuffed in my pockets, I contemplated my life. It wasn't very common for me to do, I took things as they came and I didn't worry much on 'could have been's' and 'what could be's'. It wasn't in my nature. It wasn't rational to waste time on those type of thoughts-- to reflect more than necessary.

But looking down at Stray, as he hung on to the hem of my shirt as we walked down the street, I wondered what specific choice led me down this road. Perhaps it was choosing to pick up some hot food from the store before heading home. Or maybe it was giving out a standing invitation to the kid with a dirty face and bright intelligent green eyes to let himself into my apartment whenever.

I had narrowed it down to one of the two.

How we got to this point wasn't very important though. All that matter was the here and the now. And the here and the now was me trying to calm the nervous wreck of a child next to me.

"Breathe, Stray," I command, voice low as we walked to the train station. We were taking one to UA so Stray could get a physical, and if all was in order there, he'd take a short physical test. Not graded, and it wouldn't impact whether he was able to attend or not, but more so that the teachers knew where he stood. He hadn't taken a gym test in years, after all.

But Stray was panicking anyways. His breathing going a bit faster and I kept having to pull his hands from his hair as he tugged at it viciously in his distraction. I was afraid if I didn't keep his hands pinned to his sides he might pull his hair straight out of his scalp.

Stray looked up at me with glistening green eyes, watering as if to prepare for a bout of crying. Reaching out I pat his head in the most soothing manner I could muster. I wasn't a very touchy-feely person by nature, but I did my best to give the problem child positive contact. It was painfully obvious he had been bereft of such things for a long time, and so I tried my best to fill up that hole.

It had become a lot easier to do so as of late. After the guardianship papers were signed Stray had become like a tick, attached to my side wherever I went, stuck to me with that clinging grip of his. Stray seemed to have taken the guardianship papers as some sort of silent approval for being allowed to have maximum contact possible.

Not that I would turn Stray away, but it could be rather startling to wake up to green eyes staring down at me in the morning, or to have to do an awkward sidestep when coming out my bedroom because Stray had sat in front of the closed-door while I was changing.

I carefully navigate the turnstiles in the station. It was harder than it might seem with a child attached to you like a strange growth.

After paying at a booth I hurry us onto the train that had arrived just on time for us. We were a decent distance from the doors when they opened so we ended up standing, others having taken the seats first, and I hang on to one of the hanging handles from above. Stray must not get on trains when they're especially busy, so he was practically standing on my toes as he tries to disappear into me like a second set of clothes.