seta souji. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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destinytown2012-12-05 08:01 am
soojie) wrote in destinytown2012-12-05 08:01 am
[ a new world fool ]; souji, yosuke et al. (spam/log)
[ one of the last locations seta souji ever expected to find himself in was the birthplace of his parents.
on paper, inaba doesn't sound like such a bad place to be. he's certainly never heard any ills spoken of it in his youth. and yet he can't help but feel as though this may or may not be taking a step backwards to move out into the country, away from family and friends, away from the city life and cushy desk job he was just starting to get used to. is this really a good time for a new beginning, a chance to wipe the slate clean and start over in a different town, rebuild his reputation from the ground up?
it probably is. familiarity aside, souji can't deny that his comfortable existence has also grown...stagnant, stale. the busy streets are full of too many reminders of things he'd like to remove himself as far away from as possible—too many memories of a long-lost wife who haunts his mind's eye on those nearly sleepless nights where he can't not succumb to torturing himself. it's no way to be spending what remains of his youth. he's drawing ever closer to thirty, which is a big number, albeit less so than forty and beyond. it'd be much better, he thinks, to spend those days peacefully, if he can. both for his well-being and his daughter's.
what surprised him is how well nanako had taken to the proposition. it'd started with a letter (an increasingly rare formality in this day and age), and once the photos of her father's immaculately well-kept former home were handed out, her eyes lit up enthusiastically. leaving her classmates behind would be rough (souji knows that more than anyone), but she's a strong girl who's voiced no complaints throughout the packing process, who's maintained a cheerful air until the last speck of their city fades out of sight, no longer waving from the passenger's window of their car. that's when her smile falters and the reality of the situation starts to sink in. souji wonders if this is wrong, if he's made a mistake after all, when his daughter turns and simply expresses her concern over the many faces they might not get to see again, not unless there's a major holiday coming up.
i hope everyone will be fine without us, she says. like they're the ones in danger, that their lives depend on souji.
he chuckles to himself at the memory. that was a couple a couple of hours ago; now, nanako's sound asleep next to him while they cover the last leg of their journey. the rattle of the trailer that they're towing behind them is something that souji's more or less learned to ignore, drowning it out in favor of following the crumpled old map he consults from time to time, concentrating on the steady burn of the cigarette loosely held in his other hand, ashes periodically flicked out the window. he's sure that nanako will scold him later for not being strong enough to wait, but his nerves are frazzled and he needs something to ground him, hold him steady. besides, this way he won't have to stop for a smoke when they're in the middle of unpacking. quitting is a luxury that he can't afford at the moment when there are bigger fish to fry.
the rest of the car trip passes without event. a few close calls and missed turns don't stop the setas from arriving at their destination at around the time they expected. it's late in the afternoon, with the sun taking its sweet time in deciding if it's ready to dip below the horizon. luckily, getting everything out of their car and into their new home shouldn't be an incredibly long affair--a family of two in a cramped downtown apartment has a lot less to carry than others do. even so, another couple of hours goes by before souji is willing to call it a job well done. the main room isn't fully furnished and they're missing a few extra cups and plates, but the futons are laid out upstairs, and the television set is plugged in and ready to go. all souji needs now is some warm food in his belly and a cold beer in his hand, pending that nanako will see fit to let him cut loose for a while (she's more like her late mother than he wants to admit). after that, he'll be content.
as much as he'd like to take a load off, there's still one more stop to go before their day is done. traveling hand in hand with nanako, the amount of attention souji receives as they head toward inaba's main shopping district is nothing short of staggering. in a hamlet as small as this one, he expects to be at least a bit of an anomaly till everything settles down and he becomes another member of the rat race here. what he doesn't expect is to be immediately addressed by name, fielding questions about his parents and extended family: yes, they're doing well, i'm sorry they couldn't be here, this is something i had to do on my own. have you met my daughter, nanako?
even she is a little overwhelmed, hiding behind her father's legs when she grows weary of trading pleasantries. sympathizing with her, souji looks for an out from their latest exchange, promising the owners at the chinese diner that they'll stop in for a beef bowl the next time that they're in the area. it was tempting to do so tonight, but he doesn't want to overexpose nanako any more than he already has. the day must be exhausting for her, figuring that he'll have to put her straight to bed after dinner and a bath. come to think of it, doing the same sounds like a pretty good idea, too...
junes is a name that that souji doesn't recognize, though it clearly has nanako's attention as she breaks out of her shell, tugs at his arm to drag him into the supermarket. and here he thought that he could get away with a convenience store's bento box for the evening. maybe a bowl of instant noodles, or a freshly-steamed bun, if they had any.
still, what nanako wants is what nanako gets, and he laughs, telling her to take it easy as they grab a pair of shopping baskets. they'll have to remember not to take home more than they can carry--they're only here to tide themselves over for tomorrow, when they can finish what's left of their unpacking and make their house look like more of a home. that's something souji's looking forward to more than he thought he would.
seeing the renewed smile on nanako's face while they traipse down the aisles makes him think that this probably really was the best decision for them in the end. any lingering doubts in his mind wash away, replaced with the heavy comparison of which frozen meal would be best, and if it'd bother his daughter too much to grab a new carton of cigarettes on their way out. ]
on paper, inaba doesn't sound like such a bad place to be. he's certainly never heard any ills spoken of it in his youth. and yet he can't help but feel as though this may or may not be taking a step backwards to move out into the country, away from family and friends, away from the city life and cushy desk job he was just starting to get used to. is this really a good time for a new beginning, a chance to wipe the slate clean and start over in a different town, rebuild his reputation from the ground up?
it probably is. familiarity aside, souji can't deny that his comfortable existence has also grown...stagnant, stale. the busy streets are full of too many reminders of things he'd like to remove himself as far away from as possible—too many memories of a long-lost wife who haunts his mind's eye on those nearly sleepless nights where he can't not succumb to torturing himself. it's no way to be spending what remains of his youth. he's drawing ever closer to thirty, which is a big number, albeit less so than forty and beyond. it'd be much better, he thinks, to spend those days peacefully, if he can. both for his well-being and his daughter's.
what surprised him is how well nanako had taken to the proposition. it'd started with a letter (an increasingly rare formality in this day and age), and once the photos of her father's immaculately well-kept former home were handed out, her eyes lit up enthusiastically. leaving her classmates behind would be rough (souji knows that more than anyone), but she's a strong girl who's voiced no complaints throughout the packing process, who's maintained a cheerful air until the last speck of their city fades out of sight, no longer waving from the passenger's window of their car. that's when her smile falters and the reality of the situation starts to sink in. souji wonders if this is wrong, if he's made a mistake after all, when his daughter turns and simply expresses her concern over the many faces they might not get to see again, not unless there's a major holiday coming up.
i hope everyone will be fine without us, she says. like they're the ones in danger, that their lives depend on souji.
he chuckles to himself at the memory. that was a couple a couple of hours ago; now, nanako's sound asleep next to him while they cover the last leg of their journey. the rattle of the trailer that they're towing behind them is something that souji's more or less learned to ignore, drowning it out in favor of following the crumpled old map he consults from time to time, concentrating on the steady burn of the cigarette loosely held in his other hand, ashes periodically flicked out the window. he's sure that nanako will scold him later for not being strong enough to wait, but his nerves are frazzled and he needs something to ground him, hold him steady. besides, this way he won't have to stop for a smoke when they're in the middle of unpacking. quitting is a luxury that he can't afford at the moment when there are bigger fish to fry.
the rest of the car trip passes without event. a few close calls and missed turns don't stop the setas from arriving at their destination at around the time they expected. it's late in the afternoon, with the sun taking its sweet time in deciding if it's ready to dip below the horizon. luckily, getting everything out of their car and into their new home shouldn't be an incredibly long affair--a family of two in a cramped downtown apartment has a lot less to carry than others do. even so, another couple of hours goes by before souji is willing to call it a job well done. the main room isn't fully furnished and they're missing a few extra cups and plates, but the futons are laid out upstairs, and the television set is plugged in and ready to go. all souji needs now is some warm food in his belly and a cold beer in his hand, pending that nanako will see fit to let him cut loose for a while (she's more like her late mother than he wants to admit). after that, he'll be content.
as much as he'd like to take a load off, there's still one more stop to go before their day is done. traveling hand in hand with nanako, the amount of attention souji receives as they head toward inaba's main shopping district is nothing short of staggering. in a hamlet as small as this one, he expects to be at least a bit of an anomaly till everything settles down and he becomes another member of the rat race here. what he doesn't expect is to be immediately addressed by name, fielding questions about his parents and extended family: yes, they're doing well, i'm sorry they couldn't be here, this is something i had to do on my own. have you met my daughter, nanako?
even she is a little overwhelmed, hiding behind her father's legs when she grows weary of trading pleasantries. sympathizing with her, souji looks for an out from their latest exchange, promising the owners at the chinese diner that they'll stop in for a beef bowl the next time that they're in the area. it was tempting to do so tonight, but he doesn't want to overexpose nanako any more than he already has. the day must be exhausting for her, figuring that he'll have to put her straight to bed after dinner and a bath. come to think of it, doing the same sounds like a pretty good idea, too...
junes is a name that that souji doesn't recognize, though it clearly has nanako's attention as she breaks out of her shell, tugs at his arm to drag him into the supermarket. and here he thought that he could get away with a convenience store's bento box for the evening. maybe a bowl of instant noodles, or a freshly-steamed bun, if they had any.
still, what nanako wants is what nanako gets, and he laughs, telling her to take it easy as they grab a pair of shopping baskets. they'll have to remember not to take home more than they can carry--they're only here to tide themselves over for tomorrow, when they can finish what's left of their unpacking and make their house look like more of a home. that's something souji's looking forward to more than he thought he would.
seeing the renewed smile on nanako's face while they traipse down the aisles makes him think that this probably really was the best decision for them in the end. any lingering doubts in his mind wash away, replaced with the heavy comparison of which frozen meal would be best, and if it'd bother his daughter too much to grab a new carton of cigarettes on their way out. ]