Chainsaw Boy

Chapter 7:New chores, Old needs.

Makimas gaze bore down on him harshly causing a shiver to shoot down his spine. He couldnt know for certain what the stare was, whether it was shock, anger, or worse dissapointment. Reguardless he couldnt bare to look at her, the shame too heavy for his head to lift.

He wanted to fight. Squirm free, yell in protest, but it drowned out. Almost defensively he felt tears sear at his eyes as he felt a lob at his throat. "I-" he felt his voice crack in betrayl "im sorry."

Her gaze didnt seem to alter much merely staring straight at him without as much as a guiding flicker of emotions in her eyes. Slowly she walked toward the kitchens island setting what seemed to bags of groceries down gentley. "..You are going to clean it up correct?"

He stayed quiet looking down at his mess, He was so ready for punishment, so worked up for something that hadnt come, he felt.. embarassed. Wiping at his eyes he managed a small nod.
"Y-yeah".

Looking on it with a fresh pair of eyes, the mess was barely a pochita in length. (Roughly a foot and a half). He could clean this up quickly, without much problem.

Quickly scrambling too his knees, he moved quickly. picking up the plates and snacking on the remain crumbs until the floor was clean. Looking it over he knew it was a two trip job. First the plates. Then the jam he assured himself. Picking up the plates he looked too Makima, which too his suprise was looking back at him.

How long was she looking? he asked himself. In truth, he hoped it was recent, the idea of her watching him eat crumbs off the floor was embarrassing. He didnt like how people were always so willing to scoff at him just for his eating habits. I mean seriously he thought do they think I can just waste food?. Besides, they were the suckers, wasting perfectly good food, that he got for free.

He shook his head, he was getting off track. Lifting to his tipp toes he did his best to softly drop the plates into the sink. If I had a chair this would be so much easier- he whined to himself before catching makimas eye again. But then again.. it was better not to cause any more trouble.

All thats left! the jam. He turned around hurridly happy to have finished the torturous process known as "cleaning". Scramblimg he practically sprinted to deal with the remaining jams. Scooping them up he put them into the fridge, in the spots to the best of his memory he got them from. However

Turning around accomplished. He went to Makima. "Cleaned it!" he cheered a little too happily even for his own liking. He stood next to her in anticipation, aching for some amount of praise.

"Forgetting something?" she asked quietly, her index finger gesturing to his hands. "Those still need cleaning." Denjis breath hitched at that. As a sudden flash of pain came to his mind. He shook it off  It wasnt me. he took a moment before he looked down at his hands, they were still covered in jam and a small build up of crumbs. "Oh..."

"Be sure to wash it off." she said with a small smile. He nodded, noticing her eyes trail him as ran over. He stopped realizing if he were to touch the handle it would dirty, leaning ovee the counter instead he used his elbow turning on the faucet before running his hands under quickly.

"Did it!" he exclaimed attempting to make eye contact over the counter. She shifted tilting her head "Really?" standing up, she made her first movement she had in awhile, walking over to him gentley taking his wrist. Examing his hands she seemed unimpressed. "you forgot to wash inbetween."

She fell to a knee making a small rubbing motion. "You have to be thorough, dont leave a crumb" He looked at her in pause. "Not even a crumb?" he echoed dumbfounded. It seemed a rather big ask, hand crumbs for him were like a pleasant suprise like a small snack when all he could get is bread.

However he cut his thought of short. preparing to wash his hands in thinkings stead. Leaning over the table again he scrambled and weased in managing the uncomfortable position to the faucet.

Which Makima seemed to find funny, chuckling quietly to herself. "Here". Quickly he again felt relieved, though the way he was being held up he felt more like a coat rack. "Now wash"

Nodding at her demand he listened washing thoroughly making sure to get the small crumbs he could free from his hands. This makes 3 now he remarked to himself as he was put too the ground.

Its so frickin embarrassing! He didnt much like suddenly being held so much, it felt like being treated like a kid. Which he obviously wasnt. Flustered, he looked off focusing hard on where the trouble had spawned from. His former mess now gone, without as much a trace. He felt.. vidicated, proud even. He did clean his own mess after all.

At first he thought it was only pride that swelled within him. But there was something else there, something on mistakabley alien. A thump he thought he killed. A want for praise.

"Miss Makima..?" he felt betrayed by the words that left his mouth.

"Yes?" Makima replied quickly, looking up from petting one of the many dogs that lumbered over.

"Are you pro-" suddenly his voice was interrupted by another knock at the door. And with it was Makimas attention.

"Oh good." she smiled "He's here."