{KAZOKU'S POV}
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Another day passed and my mind kept wandering back to the fact that I go to the same school as the guy I pick pocketed. The real question was how I didn't know that before. We were in the same year after all and I'd gone to that school my whole life.
It was true I was never too interested in people outside of my class, hardly even the people in my class. It was just harder to avoid them.
My thoughts may have been the reason I was getting my ass kicked more than usual. Nikko was winning easily in today's choice of board game, Chess. Not his usual pick where he could screw over the other person, but still one of his favorites because he could show how smart and strategic he is.
I was never much of a Chess player, Nikko kept having to remind me what each piece did. He wouldn't give me any more advice than that, however. I could tell when I was about to make a bad move, though, because a devious chuckle would escape his lips each time without fail.
"The horse...." I trailed off, my eyes traveling up to Nikko who raised an unamused eyebrow.
"I've told you like ten times," he reminded. "Is it really that hard to remember?"
"Yeah," I answered, glancing around the board. "I know the queen can move pretty much every way. I know the castle-"
"Rook," Nikko corrected, "And the horse can be moved in an L shape. Just like an L should be on your forehead."
"Because I'm a loser?" It was my turn to raise an eyebrow as I looked at Nikko who had a shit-eating grin on his face.
"No, because you're lovable," he corrected, a warm feeling spread across my chest. "You clearly have some low expectations for me."
"Sorry, Bud-" I began my apology but his bellow cut me off.
"Just kidding!" He yelled before toning down his voice a bit to deliver his next sentence. "It's because you're lame."
A knock sounded at the door, "I'll go get that," I told him.
"I know you're in there!" A shrill voice sounded as the knocks only grew louder. "I can hear both of you!"
"I'm coming, Mrs. Suzuki!" I promised as annoyance grew in my gut. I turned to Nikko before I opened the door, "Hopefully she'll invite you over for dinner."
"I don't like eating dinner with her," he pouted, "She smells like cat pee and only talks bad about everyone in the building." I knew that was his way of saying she shit talked me the whole time. But that wasn't new information.
"Yeah, but you're a growing boy, you can't live off mac n' cheese and ramen noodles," I told him before opening the door.
"Took you long enough," Mrs. Suzuki shuffled into the apartment and began glancing around the room.
"Is the burner on?" She demanded, reaching into her pocket for the phone.
"I'm boiling water, Mrs. Suzuki," I gestured to the pot sitting on top of the stove.
"What are you making?" Her question was full of scorn, "Mac n' cheese or ramen noodles? Which is it this time? Is that all you eat? Lord, that isn't healthy."
But it's cheap.
"I was going to cut up an apple for him, too," I assured her. I was hoping she would invite Nikko over for a meal, because she's right, living off of the food I make isn't healthy.
"Ahh, Lord," she said, "That doesn't mean poo." She turned to my brother, moving over to where he sat on the floor in front of the chess board. "Stand up, son," she said kindly. It was like she had a switch, she was either babying someone or judging another. There was no in between.
Nikko listened, but begrudgingly. He had no grin on his face and actually appeared rather annoyed. Of course, she overlooked this fact and began to try and tame is messy locks or curly brown hair.
"You need a hair brush, Sunshine," Mrs. Suzuki played with his hair a little longer before pinching his face. She then messed with his shirt. "This fabric is worn thin," she turned back towards me, "How old is this shirt?"
"I'm not sure," I played with my hands a little. While her visits did annoy me, they also made me increasingly nervous. It was like the longer she stayed the more likely it would be that I messed up. Nikko hated them, too. She treated him like he was stupid which was one of his pet peeves. "It's definitely not new, though. I'll sew it if it begins to tear, though. I don't have much mo-"
"You don't have money," she finished for me, "That's hardly an excuse. If you can't take care of this boy just give him to foster care."
"I don't want to go to foster care," Nikko insisted. "I'm happy here."
"That's just the Stockholm Syndrome talking, Sweetheart," Mrs. Suzuki grabbed his hand gently. "You can eat dinner at my place tonight. I'll even fit you up with some new clothes that my own son used to wear."
I cringed at the mention of her son. Yet another reason she was always trying to take care of other people's children. Her dead son.
I didn't know the story but I knew he was only about thirteen. I was never told how, though, but I was sure it was sudden. Here one minute gone the next. Mrs. Suzuki talked about him too casually for it to be a suicide, if it was she probably wouldn't trust herself around kids given her love for them. I always thought it was something closer to a car crash.
"But-" Nikko began to whine, something he hardly did unless it had to do with Mrs. Suzuki. He really didn't like her despite the good she did for him.
"Be grateful, Buddy," I told him, giving him a stern look over Mrs. Suzuki's shoulder, "She's feeding you and giving you clothes. She doesn't have to do that but she is."
"For once I agree with your sister," Mrs. Suzuki grumbled, as if she hated the fact she was even saying that. "Now come along, I'll get some pork chops on the stove and some rice in the cooker."
Mrs. Suzuki walked out slowly, but it wasn't purposeful, just old age. However, she continued to examine everything as she left with Nikko in tow.
"I'll ask for some left overs for you, Boss," Nikko whispered, it was still loud but the old lady grabbing his hand had astoundingly bad hearing.
"Thanks, Buddy," I ruffled his hair, an action that cause Mrs. Suzuki to turn back around.
"That's why it's so messy," she scoffed, pulling my brother out the door with her before slamming it on my face.
I let out a breath, relieved she didn't try to make a call. I went over to the stove and poured out the water, I wasn't about to waste my appetite on mac n' cheese if there was a possibility I'd get pork and rice later.
My meals were unhealthy but I tried. Bread and eggs were two things that were always cheap. I usually go out of my way to get apples since they're one of Nikko's favorites. The artificial crap like ramen and mac n' cheese was cheap if you bought it in bulk.
I sighed, sinking onto the couch.
I need more money, and fast. My paycheck from work wouldn't be coming for another two weeks since the month just started. I was low, utilities and rent had taken a chunk out of everything. But it always did.
That was the main reason why I wanted Mrs. Suzuki to invite Nikko over for dinner. I didn't have much money to spare for groceries and her invite just saved me another day.
I should probably change where I pick pocket people. Running into those I've stolen from had never been an issue, even if I did they had never traced the stolen wallet to me that easily. Once they fell for my fake smiles and charm they usually continued to believe it even after they noticed the missing item.
They most likely assumed it was from someone randomly passing by who would just snatch the wallet. After all, who would be stupid enough to show their face? Me, but I used that to my advantage.
The other worry on my mind was whether Kuroo would actually press charges. He hadn't yet, but maybe that's because I gave him a fake name, number, and age. He knew what I looked like, though. Were there security cameras outside each store? How often did they check them if there were?
I sighed. I had to stop stealing, but how else could I make money? Prostitution? That was out of the question for me. What would I tell Nikko? Would I have explain anything? Did he already know?
Breathe.
Before I knew it I found myself having a panic attack. My breath was ragged and I felt my eyes begin to water.
Breathe. You're okay.
But what is everything goes to hell? What if I loose Nikko and go to prison for stealing? It'll all be fore nothing. Odd jobs were always an option. Maybe I could babysit for a rich couple or mow lawns or walk dogs.
I focused and breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth when I picked up a scent. Cat pee.
Nikko wasn't lying, that lady really did smell like piss. If she carried it into my apartment and made it stick, how horrid must her apartment smell?
I let out a shaky laugh at the thought of Nikko trying to eat and breathe through his mouth at the same time.
Breathe.
At least he was being taken care of, even if it was in the presence less than stellar scents. At least he was being fed. At least he was getting new clothes. At least I knew that if I wasn't around he may still be okay.
I knew deep down everything would be okay, though. I just wished I could sit and play board games with Nikko forever.
That's all I really wanted at the end of the day. For Nikko to be happy.
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So you met Mrs. Suzuki. I don't think she's that bad if I'm being honest but I may be biased because I'm the one who wrote her lol.
But it was fun making her use old lady swear words.
Anyways thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!