Surviving With The Power Of Three Save Files

Chapter 3: Eyesores

Walking down the street, a car passing the black-haired boy, he looked at the time.

"It's only 5 pm..."

His blue eyes looked bothered, but he felt like there wasn't anything that could be done.

"Well, I was going to have to go home sometime."

Sighing, he looked as though he was going off into a battlefield.

...

Standing in front of a shabby and run-down house, trash piling up, his brows knit together. The grass around the area was patchy and overgrown with weeds. The surrounding houses didn't look better. Folded cardboard boxes could be seen laying on the ground, which people would sometimes take to sell for little change.

"I didn't think I would be back here again..."

Yuuma felt conflicted. After leaving the poor areas in his past, he'd never looked back. However, standing here now, he really remembered where he stood, and how much he had to do to crawl up from here.

Walking closer to the entrance to the delapitated house, he stood still, hearing sounds of two people arguing inside. The sound of a drunkard yelling and a flippant woman responding back in a similar tone.

Clenching his fists, he took a deep breath, before opening the door. He knew he should've just stayed outside for a few more hours...

"I'm home..."

Standing near the entrance of the small wooden house, he looked as the two stopped their bickering.

The floorboards were rotten, and some newspapers were on the ground, covering holes. Trash was laying around the house because they were too lazy to take it out.

There were only four rooms, and it was very small and cramped.

Two of the rooms were small, being only about 66 square feet each. Being the bedrooms, there were futons rolled out on the floor, the blankets laid astrew. Magazines tossed around each room, as well as any other miscellaneous items.

The other one was the bathroom, and the last room was the main room, bigger than the others, but still not big enough for the inhabitants. It had a wooden table in the center of the room, empty beer cans and magazines filling the surface. There was also a small kitchen area beside the wall, though it was a mess, with dirty dishes everywhere.

The boy sighed, seeing the mess in the house, it really hasn't changed from his memories.

"Ah? Why're you getting back so late, huh?"

The muscular man looked pissed as he talked in a violent tone. He walked over to the boy, smelling like booze. The blue-eyed boy only avoided eye contact, trying not to hit a nerve.

"... I was just by the the playground for a bit... sir..."

'I should've saved before entering... this is going to suck... I should've never entered...'

The man looked suspicious. He clicked his tongue.

"Are you trying to pull something funny? Did you get some money from that whore, or something?"

Pointing back at the woman behind him, who didn't look serious at all, she rolled her eyes.

"No... I really was just at the playground."

"Ah? What did you say?"

'Ah. Shit—'

In a flash, without even seeing what happened, the boy fell backwards, his cheek stinging. Looking up, he watched as the grown man looked down at him with a smiling face, his fist out.