When Last Night Didn't End: Before Story

1

The sound of pots and pans clanking in the kitchen assaulted Rin's ears more than the creaking steps did. On his way down the stairs, he rubbed the side of his head as if to soften the ringing. "Kaasan," he called, his voice betraying his state of just having woken up. "Must you clamber around so early in the morning?"

He reached the last step and trudged past the living room still bearing the evidence of last night's tournament. Where's Rob anyway? Rin still had to brag about his win against the bigger man over Fortress and Strife. His mother hummed, turning to him from the counter when he ducked under the decorative arch hanging over the kitchen entrance.

"Did I wake you?" Kaasan asked, her eyes telling Rin she knew the answer to that because it's her exact intent. "Sit down and eat. You don't want to be starving on your first day."

Rin grumbled but followed his mother's order. The moment his butt settled on the chair, a steaming plate of tamagoyaki tapped on the glass-laden table. His stomach grumbled at the sight. He did need breakfast after all. "It's not even my first day," he said. "We had an orientation."

Kaasan pouted. "But it's the first day of classes, right?" she pushed a bowl of rice towards Rin and pulling one for her own. Her chopsticks were immediately on her hand. "Itadakimasu. Eat up. It's going to get cold."

With a slow scrape, Rin slid his chopsticks against the hashi-oki and shoved a bite into his mouth. As usual, it lacked the proper amount of salt and far too much pepper, but it's not like he'd tell his mother that. He glanced at the clock hanging above the fridge. In their aunt's old house, it's the only thing he had left of his grandparents. The story was that they had brought it to Whiteridge from overseas and it has been functional until now.

His memory was vague, but he could recall his grandmother sniffing with disdain as she knitted on the couch. Things these days break way too easily. Back then, everything outlasted us and the people who bought them.

And the clock also told him he's going to miss his train if he kept eating at this pace. He stuck another roll into his mouth, relishing the taste of egg exploding against his tongue, and swallowed not long after.

"I have to go, Kaasan," Rin pushed off the table, his chair grating against the tiles. She opened her mouth to scold him about the chair having no wheels, but he didn't give her the time. "The train's not going to wait."

He rounded the table and planted a quick kiss on her cheek. It seemed to startle her into stillness. "I'll see you in the weekend," he said. "Tell Rob I said bye."

His mother nodded and followed him out of the door. "Don't forget your umbrella," she jerked her chin towards his already bulging knapsack as he shouldered it and tried to stick his feet into his shoes at the same time. "When you get sick, as your roommate to get you some ginger tea or honey."

"I know, Kaasan," Rin chuckled, a bit annoyed but touched at the same time. "It's not like I'm going forever—it's just five days! I'll be home in the weekend. You can fuss about me then."

She snorted. "Expect me to call in the evening."

"Kaasan!"

"Kidding," she winked and pushed Rin closer to the wrought iron gate keeping all the stray dogs from ravaging her flowers. Rin glanced at the pots scattered in their yard. The flowers looked phenomenal this particular day, as if they're waving goodbye to him too. "Make new friends, okay? I can't have you shutting yourself in your room, playing some damned games like you did in high school."

Rin gripped one strap of his bag. "I already have one," he said. "Ryon's meeting me in the intersection. I have to make sure I don't make him wait."

A sour look passed across his mother's face. "That kid? He managed?"