The Nail That Sticks Out

Chapter Three: Cigarette

Kai Fukuda

"Fukuda-san, your shift schedule has been sent to your email. Your first shift will start tomorrow. Please find Professor Davis at the Research Center. Room 120. Thank you."

I grunt a thanks and leave the office, striding down the hall. It's my second year as a research and lab assistant at this preppy university and Dr. Davis' room hasn't changed. Waseda hasn't changed. Tokyo hasn't changed.

Honestly, I thought I'd be out of this hell hole by now. I thought I'd have enough money to move out to someplace nice with mom. Preferably someplace outside of Japan. Yet, I'm twenty-three and still working my two shitty jobs to pay rent. Well let's be fair, bartending isn't so bad. I do get a fair share of lays and free drinks. Can't say the same for my day job.

I sneak out the back of the campus where most college bums come out for a smoke. I feel myself relax as soon as I tuck a cigarette between my lips. I go slack against the brick wall as I light it up and take a drag, my body filling with the sweet and familiar flavor. I pocket my lighter and close my eyes. The smoke travels up, mixing in with the sounds of students talking about whatever the hell classes they just had. 

I look out at the garden and notice it must be pretty late in the day as a throng of students head out the gates. Some I've seen in the past, in Dr. Davis' class. Most are new faces and I realize that today should mark the first day of university for some of them.

Damn. Five years ago, I would have been one of them. All worked up and excited for classes, meeting new people and exploring the neighborhood for a good meal. But that's if I hadn't thrown away my chances of going to university. My chances of being a normal kid. 

I drag out the last few puffs of my cigarette, mindlessly scanning the rest of the campus grounds before a familiar face pops into view. I nearly choke on my spit and the cigarette falls out of my mouth. 

Fuck, Karma's a bitch.

I stamp out the unfinished cigarette and look back up. Sure enough, it's the same girl with the fiery eyes that I saw on Friday night. Except those eyes aren't fiery anymore. 

I watch from a distance as she stuffs her hands in her pockets, pacing the stone path with her gaze wandering around, as if she's waiting for someone. A friend? A guy? 

My curiosity gets the best of me and I end up waiting around like the fucking creep I am. She's pretty tall compared to the other girls on campus. Her dark, wavy hair falls past her shoulders, forming a curtain around her face. I wasn't completely sure on Friday night, since it was dark, but now I'm certain she's mixed. Her face is small and her skin is translucent, features that I'd say are pretty Japanese, but her nose is taller, her lips fuller and I notice that they're set in a small frown. She's a bit too far for me to see her eyes. I find myself wondering what color they are. Red, I think with a snort, based on the way they practically shot lasers at me that night from under the bridge. 

She paces around a while longer, sighs more than a couple of times, and leaves. Guess whoever she was waiting for stood her up. I scoff, feeling dumb for waiting around and push myself off the brick walls. I pop a mint in my mouth and make my way out the gates. 

***

"Okaeri, Kai," Miranda chirps from the living room as I close the door to my house. Their house. Whatever. (Welcome home)

"Your uncle Joji's out with Anna at the department store. She said she needed new school shoes. That girl's been growing fast!" she fakes wiping a tear. 

"Mhm," I reply. 

It's no surprise, really. Miranda's tall and Anna definitely takes after her mother. Same auburn hair, brown eyes, pointy nose. At nine years old, that girl is already wanting to dress like her mom too.

"I'll be upstairs."

"You don't have work at the bar tonight do you?" she asks, twisting in her sofa. "Do you want to stay for dinner?"

I shake my head. She probably already knew I'd decline her offer. I never have dinner with them, but she always asks anyway. I hear her laugh softly.

"You're just like your mother, Kai," she says wistfully. 

Yeah. We don't accept shit from people. I might be living in my uncle's home with his family but I'm paying my part of the rent, no matter how many times they refuse. I'm not about to start ruining their dinners by sitting there at the dining table, acting all normal as if I'm part of their family or some shit. 

"Hm," I grunt, already making my way up the stairs. The door to the spare bedroom closes behind me and I drop my things by the bed. My phone buzzes and I glance at it, fighting a smile.

Mom: First day back at work tomorrow! Gambatte-ne! (Good luck!)

I send her a quick thanks. My mom still has no clue I work at the bar too. It almost slipped out when she had asked me to come back to visit her in Chiba during the summer and I couldn't because of my shifts. I told her that I wanted to travel around Japan with some friends instead and she was fucking ecstatic that I had any friends in the first place. 

I go through the same routine of changing into a dark hoodie and heading out the house. I choose a microwave burrito from the same convenience store for dinner and eat on the curb. The same black cat appears from behind one of the cars and I toss it some of my burrito fillings. Same as always.

"Kawaii-ne." (That's cute.)

I look up from my burrito at the girl standing in front of me. She's a pretty girl with bangs and her long hair is tied up in a high ponytail. Her hands are clasped behind her back, feigning innocence but one look at her lascivious eyes tells me otherwise. 

"Maa-na," I reply, biting into my burrito. (I guess.) 

I wait for her to say more. Instead, she bends down and pets the cat with the back of her hand. My gaze travels up her arm to her chest. Her beige, V-neck sweater offers a flattering view of her full breasts. D-cups, by the looks of it.

"Konna toko de nani shiteru no?" she asks, peering up at me from her lashes. (What are you doing at a place like this?)

I suppress a sigh. I don't usually mind the small talk that preludes a good fuck. But today, I'm feeling particularly tired. Life is predictable and I'm not sure why I bother putting effort into things that are just going to play out the same way tomorrow and the days after. 

I gently grab her wrist that's petting the cat and pull her against me. She stumbles and lands on her knees, using her other hand to steady herself. She stares at me wide-eyed. 

"Ikuzo." (Let's go.)

I leave my unfinished burrito for the cat and pull her up. 

I've got work tomorrow, is the last thought that lingers on my mind before I make it to the usual love hotel and give the unnamed girl the night of her life.

Her cries sound the same as ones from all the other girls I've fucked. Her mouth feels the same. She tastes the same. Everything's the same.

Like I said, life is predictable.