Welcome to Heaven | ✓

Epilogue: Welcome to Heaven

~10 years later~

"Koyuki, hurry up. At this rate we won't make it by nightfall."

"Easy for you to say. I'm the one about to snap my back in half."

He waddled, more or less crushed under the weight of the cardboard boxes he carried in his arms.

I craned my neck. "Need a hand?"

"I needed a hand about a block ago. No, now I need a chiropractor."

"Stop exaggerating. If you didn't want to haul boxes you should've had them delivered to the shop itself."

"You ordered them, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. It is my fault." I grinned. "Sorry?"

He lowered the boxes onto the ground. With an overemphasized breath, he straightened his posture, settling his palms at his hips and stretching for good measure. We'd finally arrived. "At least sound apologetic."

"My deepest apologies?"

"Too robotic."

"I love you?"

"Passable."

Although we'd been here multiple times since we bought the place, assorting the fine details and purchasing furniture among other things, as I gazed up at it now, my heart couldn't have been warmer. It'd been a miscommunication on my end when I ordered these belongings, so we were left no choice but to spend the better half of this afternoon and evening going to and fro the store, loading boxes into our car and doing the grunt work of bringing it here ourselves. I guess it'd be apt to say Koyuki had been doing the heavy lifting while I spurred him on from the sidelines.

"Hey, blondie. Bake me something. I'm hungry."

The brusque command originated from my left. Sota's eyebrows sloped inward in an unfriendly scowl. Hands in his pockets, earbuds jammed into his ears—he was far from an amicable sight. He'd haphazardly worn his Soetsu High School uniform; red tie dangling loosely around his neck. His white dress shirt was hardly buttoned beneath his blazer, revealing the curse words sprawled across the rock t-shirt he'd togged on underneath.

I urged him to give Koyuki a hand today but throughout the journey there and back, he did nothing of the sort—merely blasted music and tuned out the world. Finally, he'd spoken out, but unsurprisingly, it wasn't to make small talk.

Koyuki's forced smile twitched. "We don't have desserts or a completed kitchen to bake in yet."

"Tch. You're useless."

"Sota!" I reprimanded.

"What's your problem, ugly? Stay out of it."

It took every fibre of my being to resist clobbering him—not now, in broad daylights, with innumerable passersby to serve as witnesses. 

He'd acquired coarser vocabulary and a rebellious attitude over the years and it'd gotten worse since he entered high school. He was taller and stronger than me now, too, as much as I hated to admit it.

"What a waste of time. I tagged along 'cause I thought you'd feed me. Give me back my hours of labour, you stupid couple."

"You didn't lift a single box," I remarked.

"Why would I work unless I'm given incentive?" He extended his palm. "Fork over your wallet. I'll buy something from the convenience store over there."

I hadn't seen him in a while but he really was testing my patience. Had my absence since I moved out manifested in this defiant attitude? Who gave him this smart lip?