Gracie Abrams is eking out a solitary existence, fighting day-in, day-out against the drain of working customer service and nursing two newborn kittens in her off time. Out on her own ever since her sister moved in with her boyfriend, the burden of...
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It was the first time I'd been back to my apartment since the day Kirishima and I had left for a seemingly harmless vet visit.
Life was wild.
With the world gone to shit, it made sense, then, that I was a bit mad, too.
The fridge had been cleaned out. Kirishima and Kakashi had come here previously. I hadn't spoken to the landlord at all, nor the neighbors. I hoped Grapes and Carl and that guy with the chair were all safe somewhere.
All that remained were storage boxes that couldn't fit at Bella's, piled in the living room and covering the blue carpeting. After spending months sleeping on a cushy white spread with walls the color of sunshine, I realized how depressing all the blue was.
Even the couch had found a new home, and its absence made this place feel like someone else's apartment. That couch had been my companion through my entire adult life and all of my childhood. Just like my kitchen table, it had a history with me that spread throughout the different eras of my life, making it an ancient relic. In a museum, it would be tagged something like: Gracie Abrams' beloved couch, years 1998—2022.
It had gone to a good home—one of Talia's friends. At least, that's what I told myself as I repressed the ridiculous urge to call and ask how it was doing.
"I'm turning twenty-five this year," I said. During this whole boxing and sorting, I narrated so many nostalgic anecdotes that even I was getting sick of them. My voice was thick when I said, "I can't believe I haven't even known you for a year."
Kakashi looked up amidst piles of things, piles intended for different donation spots. All this junk had been sitting around in my apartment for years, back when Tenna and Rinley had stayed here. This had been the last place I'd seen my sister, lived with her. Seen my nieces.
"You knew me longer than that," he said, seemingly unbothered by the emotional mess I was. Not like that was anything new.
I was killing it with the whole "seduce him" thing.
"I think I want to be a mom someday," I said, randomly, after exactly nobody asked.
Kakashi didn't move, but it felt like his stare turned razor-sharp, looking through me to some place I didn't even know about. What could he see? He wasn't using his Sharingan, but that didn't mean he didn't have other special powers in those eyes. He was like Superman in that sense.
"Oh, yeah?"
I nodded, only a tiny bit smoother than Pinocchio the puppet. "I didn't used to, but I've been thinking about it more and more. I always thought I'd be the worst mom—"
Kakashi snorted, cutting in, "You'll be the best mom."
I noticed he had changed the wordage, taking it out of the hypothetical. Instead of "could be," he said "will be."
