How I was Murdered by a Fox Monster

Chapter 3 ~ Mana and Itsuki

Chapter 3

Flash forward to ten years later and I was happily dreaming away until my pleasant sleep was destroyed by my alarm. I cracked my eyes open to make sure it was daytime, and flinched at the sunlight which had infiltrated my bedroom. I attempted to muster up the energy to get out of bed, but I was dead to the world until my snooze alarm rang.

I rolled out of bed and fell to the floor with a bang, completely unaware that I wasn't going to live to see the end of the year. My eyes glanced at the photo of Grandpa and I (which I had beside my bed) and I suddenly remembered what I had dreamed about. My adopted grandfather. It was odd that I'd dreamed about Grandpa. There was once a time when I used to think of him everyday. Sometimes to the point where I would begin to cry, only to be consoled by my older sister (who would often cry as well). After entering middle school my life had become so much busier with homework, friends, and high school entrance exams. So I hadn't stopped to dwell on the man who adopted me almost ten years ago.

Maybe appearing in my dreams was his way to make sure I didn't forget him, or maybe he was just wishing me luck on my first day of high school.

I looked up at my uniform which was hanging on the door of my closet. It was blue military style with my family name Matsumoto neatly stitched on the pocket. Sis ironed it the day before, and made me swear I wouldn't get it dirty.

I lived with my older sister since my grandfather died. Well technically she wasn't my real sister. She was Grandpa's only daughter, which made her my adopted sister. She was about fifteen years older than me and already married. She quit college to raise me which was pretty cool, considering we weren't related by blood. She was strict and liked to tell me what to do, but she was nice sometimes too. I think if I was going to miss anyone it would definitely be Sis, or her five-year-old daughter Hikaru.

I picked myself up and got dressed. With a yawn I made my way downstairs to eat breakfast.

My sister's husband Shuro was already sitting at the table. The best way to describe him would be as your typical Japanese salary man with glasses one inch thick. He was my parental figure. Well, as much as he liked to think he was. He and my sister both met way back when they were in college, and they married a few years later. I liked to think of him as being more like an older brother than a father. We often hung out and played video games together. Sometimes he could even beat me.

Shuro was sipping coffee while mulling over the morning paper. He liked to pretend that reading the news would make him well-informed, but I knew he just liked reading the TV guide.

"Maybe I should change jobs," he said while gazing over the classifieds.

"Don't say that," said Sis as she dished out toast.

"But it's unlikely that I'll get a promotion. And with the economy being the way it is, it might be better to move on to something more stable."

"But your job is stable, you're not going to find anywhere else which is so flexible about your family life."

Brother often complained about how much he worked, but it was less than what my friends' fathers put in at their companies. At least Shuro was still around at breakfast. He even made it home in time for dinner most nights of the week. I had a friend in elementary school who hadn't seen his father for a month, even though they lived in the same house.

Apparently he worked for a trading company. I once asked about it, only to be told an obscure French name, and that it involved importing and exporting.

With a pair of glasses resting on her brim (which made her look just like her father) my niece Hikaru came running into the room. She climbed up on a chair, stole a piece of toast from Shuro's plate, and began nibbling along the edges.