afraid (kubokai)

chapter eight

it was the very next morning when aren awoke due to his senses.

hm. it's still pretty dark.

the air was much more crisp than usual. after glancing towards his bedside table he had found out why–the clock read five fifteen am. unless he had just concluded a bad dream and couldn't remember it, he was quite confused to why his body had awaken him so early in the morning.

suddenly, like a wave crashing down on his senses, he was hit with a familiar scent of gasoline. the boy was no longer half asleep as the blood drained from his face. was it his bike? was something spilled in the garage? whatever the situation, he felt as if something dangerous was going on downstairs. he had to stop it before he was too late.

with his weight, there was no way he was creeping down the stairs quietly. the floorboards creaked one by one, and aren prayed there wasn't something like a dangerous intruder, because the bastard definitely would have a clue on aren's whereabouts and have time to escape.

clank. yeah, there was definitely an intruder. from aren's estimation, it came from the kitchen. perhaps an attempt to grab a weapon? they would've definitely heard aren.

he should be more afraid. he was barely clothed, not that that really mattered, because a t-shirt wouldn't exactly prevent you from being stabbed, but he didn't bother to grab his bat sitting against his window either. one thing he was taught was to never underestimate an enemy. he couldn't help it, though, he hadn't faced a fight that came close to somewhat difficult in many years.

at the very last step of the staircase is where both of aren's two bare feet stopped next to each other. what was this new scent coming from the kitchen? that's funny, his brain almost tricked him and he swore the pleasant scent was the smell of warm butter and toast–

"did i wake you, son?"

the intruder had symmetrical patterns on his head, wore a tight leather jacket and had a large scar down his eye, followed by two smaller ones on his right cheek and oh- it was aren's father. it wasn't something dangerous–more like someone dangerous. not to aren, at least. well, everything made sense now. he had forgotten he even had a father with the time he had been away.

"your bike reeks." aren had managed to say after a small sigh of relief and turned his heel to go back to his bedroom. if he tried hard enough, he would be able to manage at least another half an hour of rest before he had to prepare himself for school.

"you're staying home today." the voice behind him had stopped him in his tracks. he didn't need to answer- quite frankly, he didn't have a choice. that wasn't a question, that was a command. and who was aren to complain? at least another few hours of sleep now awaited for him.

---

five hours later he was sitting at his maple dining table, which he had proudly built with his grandfather in march last year, with a black coffee resting in hand. typical, right? it's always the tough guys that like their coffee black.

his father sat across from him in silence. sometimes they would catch a glimpse of each other at the same time, like a time such as now, yet this time both didn't look away.

some say aren has a killer stare. and if that is so, he definitely inherited it from his father. supposedly that wasn't the only thing he inherited from him–and maybe if aren remembered what his father looked like as a normal person, maybe the resemblance would be uncanny.

especially if the boy had put his glasses on when he got out of bed this morning. he usually does out of habit.

"guess who's stuck back with the vincents?"

the ever so beautifully crafted coffee table was now scattered in darker brown droplets and splashes and aren had thanked the heavens that him and his grandfather used a special finish to the table all those years ago. his wrist swiped across his lips in order to clean up the excess liquid that had left from his mouth ever so dramatically.

"come again?"

"geez, you and your proper life and your proper words..." the old man for the first time threw his head back and let out a laugh "you heard me."

the vincents were a small but dangerous group of not just delinquents–but criminals. not popular, either. they liked to keep their activity on the low. small in that sense, but dangerous in another. these guys had nasty alliances.

aren hated those people with every fibre of his being.

when aren heard the name 'the vincents'
his father's previous ties to them was not the only thing that came in mind. but no, now was not the time to think about that, and aren finally brought himself out of his shocked state.

"are you fucking kidding me? what could you possibly need with them? are you aware of what happened last time?"

"calm down, will ya? it's not like i had a choice."

he should be blinded by rage at the man's idiocy, but he was right. you can't say no to people like them, even if he didn't know how he ended up in the mess. aren began to walk towards the kitchen sink, reaching for a cloth.

"alright," he was now wiping the dark liquid off the table "well you could've told me that after school, you know, so what's the real big deal?"

the flicker in emotion in his old man's eyes had set an unsettling feeling in his stomach.

"history won't be repeating itself. nothing's going to happen as long as i'm alive, but ya need to move to somewhere else."

the fuck?

aren's life was finally normal. there was no way he was dropping it to cower away from his father's mistakes, and there was no way he was leaving shun.

"not happening. i'm perfectly capable of protecting myself, not that i should need to."

"did that sound like an offer, boy?"

"i am not moving away! i am not leaving this normal, perfect life and i am certainly not leaving him just in case you slip up and make a fucking mistake. i do not want to be involved in your bullshit!"

aren was already halfway up the stairs, although his voice was just as loud as he stepped further away from the table.

"want to guarantee my safety? tell them how much of a father you are to me. maybe they'll realise i'm not good enough bait."

the echo of a slammed door bounced off of the house walls. sharpness pierced thought the flesh of aren's palms. he leaned against his door. god, he felt like crying.

ding.

a screen had lit up on his bed. storming towards it, with the urge to smash it into pieces, he stopped in his tracks as his eyes scanned across the notification panel.

1 new message

10:43am
shun:
where the f are you?

he picked up his phone gently.

me:
home. dad's here.

i shld've come. it's
not too late to come, right?

10:45am
shun:
i already covered for
you, man.

i'm guessing we both
need to let off some
steam? stay home, but
meet me at the park
after school. i still want
to learn how to kick ass!

aren's mood changed swiftly as if he wasn't lashing out at his old man a couple of minutes ago.

aren:
yes sir :D

with that, he rested his phone back onto his bed, not too keen on waiting for the hours to pass by.

—

[this chapter was to kind of foreshadow the main complication of the story. no, unfortunately it isn't the yumehara/shun relationship]