You Light Up My Life

Kazuichi: Walking Home

"Hey, Souda!" 

Kazuichi looked up. His ratty sneakers were soaked through with water, long past uncomfortable. 

He made eye contact with Daisuke, who was a year older than him, and the least kind kid he knew. His hair was straight and deep brown, and he was far stockier than scrawny little Souda. They had met in preschool, Daisuke lived just a couple of streets down from him. Now, in second grade, Daisuke never passed up a chance to make fun of him. 

"Souda! I know you heard me, you gonna answer me or what?"

Kazuichi turned his gaze back to the ground. He was looking for something, he didn't have time to listen to Daisuke. 

"Hey, Souda! Isn't that your name? Stupid?"

Kazuichi started walking, the opposite direction of the bus stop. He had important things to look for. As he kept walking, he heard Daisuke still talking after him, calling him more names and demanding he answer. 

He kept scanning the puddle-soaked ground as the boy's voice faded into the sound of rain. 

As he walked home, he let his stress from today melt away. He might not have anyone to hang out with at school, and he might not be happy when he got home, but walking home was usually peaceful. Plus it gives him a chance to scan. 

Speaking of scanning... there!

He splashed through another puddle, picking up the soda can from the grass. Lucky day! He crushed it to a disk under his shoe, stuffed it in his pocket, and kept walking. 

The rain wormed into his eardrums, the pleasant pitter-patter of every drop hitting his jacket and the concrete and the roofs of the houses he walked past soothing him. As his journey continued, his pockets filled with crushed soda cans, bottle caps, various screws and bolts, and even some loose change as he passed the various bars and low-end restaurants. 

He was nearing the end of his journey, the flickering LED sign of his father's bicycle shop guiding him. He didn't stop there, though. As much as the cold wet air cut through his now drenched jacket, and as good as a warm shower (or even just a warm blanket) sounded, he was still on a mission. 

The man at the recycling building greeted him as he walked in. They opened the gate, letting him head straight to the scale. He emptied his pockets of jingling scrap metal, making certain to keep all his coins. The man standing guard even tossed on a can of his own onto the scale. Taking a little note, he pulled a couple of bills out of his pocket and held them out to Kazuichi. 

Kazuichi frowned. "That's all?"

"It's 50 cents a pound, you know that." The man shrugged.

Sighing, he nodded. "Thank you."

"Sure thing, kiddo." 

When he walked through the door, he removed his jacket, shaking water out of his hair. He tromped upstairs, pulling off his wet clothes as he went. He didn't even waste any time drying off- he went straight for the plastic lunch container under his bed, peeling off the lid and setting the two new damp bills next to it, as well as the fistfull of change from his walk. Kazuichi already knew how much money was in there, he just wanted to recount to make sure.

$24.67.

Contented, he placed everything back in the container, slid it under his bed again, and stood up to get ready for sleep. He pulled on a big t-shirt with holes in it and some dry shorts and crawled into bed.