"Kaasan ni korosareru," Yuki mumbled as he nervously dashed through the streets of Hisumi.
His mother had told him to buy wakame and dashi at Family Mart, which was a short bike ride away, but he somehow took longer than expected.
Although the delay was unintentional, he knew that no excuses could save him from the growing anger waiting for him at home.
Mrs. Matsumoto had just returned from JA but didn't buy those ingredients because she thought they still had them in the fridge.
It was her husband who had told her that. She regretted consulting the wrong person and failing to double-check her shopping list.
But, as you know, Asian parents often raise their children to be their crutches when they can no longer walk on their own, so now, Yuki had to take responsibility for this stupid mistake and search the neighborhood for those missing zairyou.
His father, who managed to whistle his way past the force of nature that was his wife, didn't even apologize to him for the trouble.
Thinking there was no way convenience stores sold kelp—his father preferred fresh greens in his miso soup—especially at that hour, Yuki decided to try his luck at several other local stores nearby, including a newly opened yasai shouten across from the school.
Yuki's neighborhood was nestled in the heart of the city, but businesses in their ward were quite spread out.
Locating fresh goods like seaweed wasn't as easy as tourists would expect it to be in the countryside. It's no surprise the locals rarely ventured about without their vehicles.
Good thing Yuki wasn't your average Kashiwazaki local. He was good at breaking from traditions and going by his own rules, albeit unintentionally.
In fact, he left home on foot. Turned out he was so engrossed in the music he was listening to that he forgot to use his bicycle. But he wouldn't realize this until he was already a few blocks away from home.
On repeat on Yuki's playlist was Koi No Saichu! by Marina Yamane and Official Hige Dandism, his latest favorite. The featured band had just debuted, not even on the charts yet, but something about their song resonated with him.
Somehow, he could relate to it—a person deeply in love, yearning to be with the one they loved. It narrated Yuki's story in a way he couldn't, although no one truly knew what that story was. Personal matters were off-limits, even to his family.
"Yuki, you're an idiot!" he chided.
Annoyed with himself for being too careless, Yuki stopped and turned around to gauge his distance from home.
He had gone too far to go back, but he tried to calculate mentally if continuing on foot was more efficient than retracing his steps to get his bike. Clearly, it wasn't, as he had only been walking for approximately seven minutes.
Riding his bicycle would have made his journey five times faster.
Assuming he could reach the store within half an hour on foot, he could have made two trips and still be back home a few minutes earlier if he had ridden a bike.
He also overlooked the fact that he needed to check several stores, which would further extend his trip.
YOU ARE READING
Killing Yuki
Horror...fully exposing his well-sculpted physique. The fine hair near the bulging bicep creates a stark contrast with the smooth, radish-white armpit. The bright light in the room failed to obscure the fine groove dividing his well-defined chest in half...
