KuroKen | Female Robbery

Chapter Five: "Estranged"

    Kenma stared at the small text on the screen of his phone. Tsumi had texted him earlier about a carnival at the town center next weekend. She wanted to go because she'd never been and she wanted to try an elephant ear.

    Surprisingly she hadn't spoken a word of Kuroo since Friday. Kenma wanted her to get over the situation just as fast as he had. But she was probably avoiding the subject as a way of getting over it?

    His aunt called him from outside his room. "Kenma, could you come down for a minute?" Kenma rolled over and scooted to the edge of the bed. Kirai's tone was soft and somewhat apologetic. He furrowed his brows and hesitantly walked to meet her at the door.

    His aunt stood with her arms folded across her chest, her eyes averted to the floor. A sour scowl crossed her face. She turned, headed down the staircase, as Kenma followed. He wondered what had happened? His aunt had never seemed so angry before. He questioned if he should ask her anything.

The house was still. Creepily, even if  the both of them made noise the house wouldn't seem this desolate. Even the creaks of the wood could be heard under their feet. The short distance down the stairs seemed to drag on forever. What was wrong? The atmosphere was ice cold. Kenma shoved his phone in his pocket, narrowing his eyes at the sound of gentle rummaging in the living room.
Who's here? Tsumi's mom?

    He stopped.
His hand grasped tightly at the staircase rod. His throat tightened as his heart rate increased.
    "Kenma." She didn't smile.
She never smiled, at him at least. Kenma backed up against the stairwell, his mouth agape. In the last year she'd changed drastically. Her long black hair was now auburn and pinned in a bun on the crown of her head. She wasn't skin and bones anymore either. That new husband of her's had probably coaxed her into eating plenty.
    "M-Mom?" Kenma mumbled.
She hadn't paid attention. To the way Kirai glowered her. To how Kenma blatantly didn't want her to be here.

"We're going home. Get your things. I don't want to keep you're father waiting." Father? She stepped closer and grabbed onto his wrist tightly. Her fingernails dug into his skin.
He flinched and pulled away, which made it hurt even worse.
    "Kana," Kirai stepped in front of Kenma and slightly pushed her away.
     "Stop."
"Stop? Stop what? I'm just a doting mother trying to do what's best for her child."
    Kenma clenched his wrist in his other hand and continued to stand behind his aunt.
    "Kenma I don't have all day." She poked out her hip and tapped her foot angrily against the waxed wood.

"Don't give me that crap Kana. If you loved him like you say you do, why'd you just give him to me like you did?"

    "I'd just lost my husband. I wasn't thinking straight. Did you think I had time to be taking care of a child?"

    "Ohh, Kenma's father. Yeah, I suppose you did love him that much. Because getting engaged after five months really helps the grieving process."

Kenma had heard about Kirai's life from his father. How she'd lost her fiancé and unborn child in an accident. The events left her sterile and she'd  never be able to have kids of her own. His father really wasn't the gossiping type. He just wanted Kenma to have a better appreciation for his aunt.
    Kenma's mother bit her tongue and angrily walked over to Kirai, snatching Kenma by the arm and hauling him towards the door.
Kenma pulled back and grasped at the door frame before he could step outside. He twisted and jerked until he was finally out of her grasp.
    "Stay away from me! I don't want to be near you, you make me sick. I hate you!" He sobbed.
She turned around expressionless. With eyes as cold as wintered breeze.
Her voice sent a shiver down Kenma's spine.
"Kenma stop acting stupid lets go." 
"...I'm not going."
"You'll do whatever I tell you to, now come on."
    Kenma scrunched his nose and wiped his wet face. Kirai placed a hand on his shoulder as she stepped out towards the threshold.
    "Come on, don't make a scene." His mother waved her hand and laughed, a sinister laugh that eerily echoed through his bones.
"He said he doesn't want to."
"He's not eighteen yet either, is he?"
Kenma's aunt clenched her jaw as her agitated hands pulled at her jeans.