Kazoku Futarikiri had never placed much value in labels - fat, skinny, loud, quiet, nice, mean. All they were good for was dehumanizing someone, trimming their existence down to a few adjectives.
But she was pretty sure she was a bad person.
Steal...
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I stirred the pot, cursing the water that splashed onto the burner. The smell of singed liquid wafted in the air which earned me a snarky comment from Nikko.
"The water is supposed to stay in the pot," he said from where he sat at the table.
"Do you want to be fed or not?" I replied, sending him a questioning glare over my shoulder.
Nikko shrugged. "With your cooking? I think it would be safer to not eat. Wouldn't want to consume anything raw."
I laughed, "There's no such thing as raw noodles. And the cheese is all processed so there's no need to worry."
"Processed cheese over carbs. Sounds healthy," he said.
"Your young you won't gain any weight," I promised.
Despite the light hearted conversation, there was a barrier between us. An unspoken concern that was floating in both of our brains.
Neither of us wanted to be separated.
To be left alone in this dingy apartment would be hell. The wood floors were always coated in grime no matter how many times I washed them. The walls in the hallway were an off white but we both knew it wasn't intentional. The countertops in the kitchen were an odd mustard color that wasn't very appetizing. On top of that there was hardly any space to cook on. The TV was small and the couch had a dip in the middle, making it impossible for two people to sit on it without ending up in each others laps.
The worst part was the empty feeling to it, even with two people there was an inexplicable echo to the space. With Nikko gone it would be enough to drive me insane.
Of course, Nikko's end of the deal wouldn't be much better. He would be neglected at the foster homes since there would be other kids to look after. Even if there weren't other children there was always the question of the person's morals. Foster care could be a shady business. It was hard to tell what creeps or unstable monsters were looking for young, impressionable prey.
I would start World War III if that prey happened to be my brother.
"I could go to gain a few pounds." I looked back at Nikko who was flexing his arm muscle. Not that there was much there. He was aware how small he was for his age and commonly commented on how much he didn't enjoy it. "Maybe then I could beat Misako in an arm wrestling match."
