Bandaged Hearts

Chapter 23

(f/s) = favorite scent)
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"This is weird..."

November. The start of snow season. We rarely get any snow, though. Usually it's bone dry in Shizume City.

I haven't seen or heard anything about HOMRA in two months. I've kind of gotten over them, but it still hurts to think about their smiling faces and flamboyant personalities.

I walk down the sidewalk from school. The chilly air nips and pinches my cheeks, turning them rosy. I continue walking home, eyes trained forward. People stride by me at all kinds of speeds. However, people carry on with avoiding me. They walk around or go a different direction. I don't care for that. They're just busy ants and I'm the black, ink dot on paper. I won't budge or change unless torn.

Standing before me is my apartment. The railing is cold, steps bare of any traces of snow.

I sigh. "It's Friday... Tomorrow I need to help Grandma Jeena."

My feet start leading me up the stairwell. The only noises that ring to my ear are the sounds of my footsteps, and the sound of bustling vehicles. My mind drowns out the choir of rush hour with its thoughts. Thoughts race steadily, pacing with my stride. What-ifs become clear in my head.

"What if HOMRA was captured...? What if Mikoto died? What if Yata was harmed?"

I stop walking, only to start questioning my own questions.

"Yata? Why him?"

I can feel the confusion invade my brain, brows knitting. My body feels warm and tingly, heart squeezing.

Boy do I miss them...

I shake my head, brushing aside the thoughts. Feet continue to carry me up the stairs, used to the burning sensation in my calves. Everything is oddly calm, my gut telling me something's off. I grow paranoid. My senses heighten to become aware of everything around me. I keep walking.

It only takes a few more minutes to finish climbing the colossus staircase. And by a few minutes, I mean at least 30 to 45 minutes.

Before me stands the door I dread to walk through. It's dark color grins at me, sharp teeth flashing black with tar. I grab the knob of the door, unlocking the deadbolt and the handle lock. My demonic door thoughts poof away as the door swings open. No one's inside.

"I'm home," I call, waiting for any kind of response.

Nothing.

I shrug, shutting the door behind me and locking it. Nothing seems out of place, so I'm assuming no one is home. I carry my heavy and tired feet over to my room, plopping everything down either by or on my bed. Drowsiness sweeps over my body. I cave, falling face first into the soft, comforter covered, mattress. My eyes shut, resting for a bit. But paranoia comes back to biting me in the butt. My eyes snap awake, arms pushing my torso off the bed. I look around, feeling my hair. It's oily.

"Hello? Anyone home?"

I glance in the direction of the questioning voice. My brain doesn't lie, telling me it's my dad.

"Yeah. I'm in my room."

Footsteps tap over to my open door, brown dress shoes dressing the socked feet of my father. I look to him, his combed back hair losing its gelled shine. He smiles.