Kazoku Futarikiri had never placed much value in labels - fat, skinny, loud, quiet, nice, mean. All they were good for was dehumanizing someone, trimming their existence down to a few adjectives.
But she was pretty sure she was a bad person.
Steal...
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Seeing Kuroo in the pristine cafeteria, over confident and laughing, made me wonder why I ever said anything to him.
He was the epiphany of nosy. I didn't trust him, and probably never will. The only reason I blessed him with the knowledgeable of my home life was simply to get him to shut up. He was a nuisance and I wanted him gone.
I sat down after retrieving my meal, rethinking what Keomi Nakamura told me the day before.
"I hate to say this." She let out a long sigh that only increased my anticipation. "But the chances of you keeping custody of Nikko isn't looking very good."
While my expression made no change, my heart began doing summersaults down to my stomach in a flurry of both anxiety and dread. I had to wait a moment to respond. Otherwise I might have chocked on the lump in my throat. "Why not?"
"While he is happy here," she began, "It's evident that he's not being cared for best. I'm not blaming you, I know how hard you're trying, but he's so small for his age. That happens to children who don't get enough nutrients. He's behind in his medical and dental records. And to top it off this apartment isn't in the best of shape. Happy does not always equal healthy."
I was speechless. While all of this was true, it felt like a slap to the face. "Is there anything I can do?"
"Schedule a doctor's appointment, he hasn't had a physical in over two years, choose healthier foods at the store, make a dentist appointment, clean the apartment," she listed a few. "But I bet you would be doing all of that if you had the money."
Even though it was accurate, it also was a loaded question. Keomi always had this aura that made me feel as though I could spill my guts to her. I had to refrain from nodding and going on a long rant about how hard I try, how I try to make the money stretch, but it never works that way.
"I would," I admitted, saying that I didn't try would only make me look worse.
Keomi clicked the pen in her hand a few times. "Thank you for answering my questions. I just need to talk to Nikko and then I'll be on my way."
The conversation played on loops in my head all night. I couldn't sleep. Instead I spent my time cleaning. Minutes ticked into hours as I scrubbed the floors and reorganized the drawers and cabinets. After that I dusted, vacuumed, and washed the pillow cases and bedding. To top it all off I splurged on healthier groceries, spending some reserved "just in case" money in the process.
