Fluorescent Adolescent

Call It Fate, Call it Karma

The way home from the airport had become much shorter than it was in his memories, he remembered narrower and emptier roads, fewer buildings, fewer people, fewer billboards... In general, it seemed that his mysterious childhood town had turned into a small city, and somehow that idea brought him peace, the change would not be so abrupt between what he had for 5 years and what he would have for the next few.

Kirishima realized that there was no room for regret as well, his mother had insisted a lot that if he felt too much pressure, he could come back whenever he wanted, but for him to give up would be like letting himself down.

Leaving had already been too much of a cowardly act in the first place, but coming back? He could never forgive himself for that.

Even with a different vibe, life seemed to remain the same in general, the closer he got to the address of his old house, he noticed it, perhaps is the fact that he had more memories in those places during his childhood and that beyond the pass of the years in some houses, it seemed that everything remained just as he pictured.

Finally, he arrived at his destination, his uncle's house had undergone a recent remodeling that made it look less homey and more modern, but he would have to get used to that as well. The rented apartment he shared with his mother in a small old building contrasted with the multi-story, large yard houses in this neighborhood. More space, more luxuries, more freedoms...but he knew he would eventually miss the cramped, controlled mess he had in his old home.

Under the flowerpot at the entrance, he found the keys that he was told by message.

       I'm so glad you're coming!!

       I'm sorry I can't come to pick you up, but I'll be there in 3 days, and we can do something fun then

       Just remember, it's your home, it has always been, feel comfortable

       I left you some keys under the pot at the entrance, those are yours, take care of them.

       I left some money in the kitchen too

       Welcome home!

Maybe it was a bit impersonal, and a weird welcome, but somehow it was better to arrive alone, so he wouldn't have to force himself to socialize, or feign emotion when he just wanted to hide and cry for a while without making it too obvious.

After opening the door, the taxi driver helped him leave his bags inside the house, it was an older man who talked to him all the way about politics and sports, while Eijirou smiled and nodded, he felt bad for faking interest but the man was too nice, and as soon as he saw him, he told him that he reminded him of his grandson that never called, which made him feel indirectly guilty. Besides, he felt worse at the thought of telling him to leave him alone with his thoughts and the sight of the city, it wasn't the old man's fault for interrupting his teenage drama scene.

He paid and closed the door, then texted his uncle that he was safe and home, he didn't unpack, he just started roaming around the house, he didn't remember that the windows were so big, nor did he remember so many plants. In the conversations to prepare for his return, his uncle had mentioned that someone would come every once in a while to clean the house and that a neighbor helped him with the plants, so that explained why everything looked so nice , it smelled earthy and clean, not like someone lived there actually, which clashed a bit with the family memories he had there... Still, between the new furniture, the color on the walls, but above all, between the books on the shelves and the photographs that hung everywhere, he found a pleasant atmosphere.

When he was satisfied with his recognition of the place, he closed all the blinds in the first floor, grabbed a beer from what seemed like the endless well of alcohol in the fridge and found a comfortable position on the sofa, he then felt courageous enough to send a message to his mom too, hoping she was busy and wouldn't talk to him until later, he really needed to have a space for his newfound terrain of nostalgia and the house of homesickness he was starting to build in it.