Chapter 3 – Fish paste sandwiches

Ritsuka reluctantly pushed his key into his front door and turned it. He heard the latch click and he pushed it open into the dark hall way which was illuminated only by the light escaping under the kitchen door.
Being as quiet as physically possible, Ritsuka pulled his jacket from his shoulders as he made his way to the door that lead to under the stairs which was, unfortunately, situated right next to the kitchen door. He slowly eased the door open. A creak and his heart skipped a beat. The clanging in the kitchen stopped and there were footsteps coming towards the door. The kitchen door was thrown open revealing Misaki, Ritsuka’s lunatic mother.
Ritsuka instinctively flinched as she threw her arms around his neck in a tight embrace.
“Ritsuka, you’ve come back? You have come back haven’t you? You’re my baby Ritsuka aren’t you? The impostor has gone hasn’t he? Ritsuka? SPEAK TO ME!” she screamed furiously holding him and arms length and squeezing the flesh between his shoulder and neck in a vice like grip.
“I-I’m… sorry…” Ritsuka whispered to the floor. With a howl of rage Misaki threw him against the wall and slammed the kitchen door in his face.
Wincing a little at the pain in his shoulder, he flew up the stairs to his room, his safe haven.
He cringed a little at the bright light as he flicked the switch to his bedroom light on. Everything was as he had left it. He let out a sigh of relief; his mother hadn’t been in there again searching for some sort of evidence that it really was her Ritsuka who was living up stairs.
He dumped his bag at the side of his bed and brushed his long bangs out of his eyes. He glanced at the digital clock by his bed. It read six thirty. It was a good job he had left a baguette he had bought in the school canteen in his bag or he might just have been pushed to risk another round with his mother in the kitchen.
He found the food in his bag and tossed it on to his bed before turning his attention to barricading his door with the help of a spare chair. Hopefully the back of the chair wedged under his door handle would be enough to stop her. He regretted having never installed a lock, but he knew that would just make her angrier.
He flopped down on his bed and began to slowly eat his supper while musing over thoughts of Soubi. Never in their time together had Soubi ever fobbed him of in such a way. It hurt to know he had abandoned their plans to go out with Kio. He knew the gallery was important to Soubi but instead of sending Ritsuka home like that he could have been nicer or perhaps made a compromise.
Still thinking about those thoughts, Ritsuka pulled the covers over him and rested his head no the pillow while still fully clothed.
It was a bit early to be going to bed, but he was tired and was sure he needed the extra sleep.

Ritsuka groaned and let his eyes flicker open and stray to the alarm clock at his side. One thirty.
‘Oh…’ he thought to himself before changing sides with all intent to go back to sleep but then something dawned on him. He sat bolt upright and grabbed his clock.
The little dot that was in the corner to signal it was the afternoon stood glaring up at him. It was half one pm!
“Holy hell! I slept into the afternoon!” Ritsuka gasped, throwing the covers off of him and searching the room for a change of clothes.
There was a light nock at his door.
“Ritsuka?” his mother called through the wood panelling.
“Ah, yes mom?”
“It’s dinner time and I made all your favourites, come down soon!” she said happily.
“Okay, give me a few minutes and I’ll be down,” he called back while silently cursing her for keeping up this game of ‘guess what food won’t get you killed’.
He cautiously entered the kitchen and stared down at the food on the table. There were small portions of about seven different things, all of which he new whether ‘Ritsuka’ liked or didn’t, except for the sandwich closest to him which was smothered in fish paste.
He hated fish paste having sampled it at school, but what if Ritsuka liked it… he’d have to watch his mother’s reactions carefully.
As he had expected, he got through the first six dishes easily but then it came to the last one…
“Ritsuka, try some of this and see what you think!” his mother said eagerly, shoving the plate in front of him.
“I, uh… I’m full thank you mom…” he said tensely.
‘Crap,’ he thought as he saw his mothers face fall.
“What? My Ritsuka would never left food at the table. He was a good boy with a good apatite, who are you?” he slowly made his way to the exit s his mothers voice rose, “WHO ARE YOU, YOU IMPOSTER!” she screamed at him, turning to grab a plate behind her and fling it at where Ritsuka had been seconds before but he was now up the stairs and safe.

Ritsuka spent the rest of the day in his room until he heard raised voices coming from downstairs. His mother and father were arguing as usual.
He frowned at the sound of a car beeping. Leaning over his balcony he saw it was taxi. His eyes widened and he raced downstairs to where his parents were screaming and yelling.
His blonde father had a suitcase in his hand and was throwing his house keys at the floor.
“YOU CAN’T LEAVE!” his mother screamed at the top of her lungs.
“OH YES I CAN!” he bellowed back as he slammed the door and marched down to the waiting taxi.
Ritsuka’s world stopped for the briefest of seconds. His dad had left, the last barrier from his mother will to kill him, was gone. He was in trouble and knew it.
“YOU!” his mother screeched as she finally noticed her son standing at the foot of the stairs.
A split second later and Ritsuka was sprinting to his room and pushing a chair under the handle while searching for his phone.
‘Soubi, I’ll phone Soubi,’ he thought frantically as Misaki pounded no his door.

To be continued…

END OF CHAPTER