Broken

Break the Fall

Break The Fall

I used to be afraid to break the fall
So I’d stall

“I think you’re going to like this family,” the agent commented from the driver’s seat. Keith gave a half-hearted hum of agreement, playing mindlessly on his phone. It felt like this was the hundredth time he was moving from one house to another, endlessly being tossed around the foster care system.

Keith glanced up as the sedan pulled into a neighbourhood, his leg bouncing slightly, causing his phone to click-click-click against a metal button on his pocket. The agent gave him a look in the rearview mirror and he stopped, opting to worry at his bottom lip instead.

He wondered which surprise would wait for him at this house. Would it be Catholic parents again, who would send him to a private school and make him count his prayers every night? Perhaps he’d get a family of self-proclaimed geniuses again, who punished him for each grade that wasn’t up to par. Or, God forbid, would it be like that one home in which the couple pitied him to no end, trying to bandage up every one of his little inconveniences with ice cream and little presents, as if he was seven instead of almost seventeen.

“All right, we’re here,” the agent announced after several odd turns which caused Keith to wonder if she’d gotten lost, a bit too much cheer in her voice to sound genuine. Keith clicked open his seatbelt and slipped out of the car. By the time he’d closed the door, the agent was already standing on the house’s front steps, one hand poised to knock and the other beckoning him over impatiently.

Impatiently, because she couldn’t care less how Keith really settled in. She got her paycheck either way, after all.
She knocked exactly six times, stepping back afterward and giving Keith another one of those terribly fake smiles. Keith returned the expression tightly, not looking her in the eye.

The doorknob turned, and a young man appeared in the doorway. He was Asian, well-build and cheery. A white lock of hair fell in front of his face, though the rest was black and cropped short. Keith couldn’t decide whether to be comforted by his gentle smile or put off by the fact that the man looked like he could go six rounds with an MMA instructor without breaking a sweat.

“Hi,” the man greeted, his smile never faltering. “You must be Keith.” The teen did nothing but nod mutely, dark eyes still analysing the person in front of him.

“Yes, sir,” the agent said, springing into the quiet exchange. “I’ll be taking one final glance around the home and then we’ll be all set. Keith, would you mind getting your bags?” The teen nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking back to the car after a final once-over.

“Here, let me help you with those,” the man offered, taking several long strides to catch up with Keith. “I know how heavy luggage can be.” Keith simply glanced at him. Just how long was this kind front going to hold up? He didn’t respond. He’d be out of here in a few weeks anyway, why bother?

“I’m Takashi, by the way,” he continued. “You can call me Shiro if you want.” The teen swallowed thickly.
“I’m Keith,” he replied, “but you knew that.” Shiro gave another one of his soft smiles.

“Your last name’s Kogane, right?” he asked. “That’s Korean, isn’t it?” Keith nodded, pulling one bag over his shoulder as Shiro lifted the heavier of the two. 

Shiro led the way into the house, setting the bag in front of the stairwell. Keith followed suit, stepping into the living room behind Shiro right afterwards. The elder turned to Keith.

“Did you have dinner yet?” he asked. “We usually wait for Adam but I can get something out real quick if you’re hungry.”

“I’m okay,” Keith muttered. And who was we? Was there a cat or something that Keith wasn’t aware of? The agent chose this moment to come down the stairs, a manicured hand resting on the railing.