DeathYLess

Esaias was already up when he heard the sound of scrambling paws and claws.  Erebus, who until that point had been content to laze around at Esaias’ feet, leapt off Esaias’ bed and joined the other dogs in their dash for the yard.  Esaias sighed and quietly tucked the book he’d been reading under his pillow and climbed out of bed to get changed and go help Balia with the morning chores.  He was allowed to help a bit now that he was ten, but he was still always trying to get her to let him help with just one more thing.  By the time he was changed though, Balia was already bringing the eggs back inside.  He’d never admit it, but his face looked like he was pouting.  Seeing that she’d already gotten started without him, now he was extra eager for a task to do.

“Balia, what can I do?” he asked, walking up to her.

Miguel was used to getting up early - even before he moved to the farm. But it didn’t surprise him that Balia was an even earlier riser. She was gone to start the morning chores before he even had the chance to fully wake up. He sat up and stretched loudly, before climbing up from his bed. 

Birds chirped outside the window and he smiled out into the gray dawn light, before he started from the room. The smell of coffee wafted up from the kitchen and the urge to go straight down there. 

While he knew Esaias would be up by now... he also knew that Mika would not be. 

He walked down the hall to Mika’s room, and knocked on the door before slowly opening it and flicked the light on, “Mika.” He said groggily, “Breakfast time! Up and at’em!” He got a grumpy groan in response, but at least he knew Mika was awake. 

After that, he headed straight downstairs and saw Balia and Esaias in the kitchen. He patted Esaias’s head as he walked by, and then stopped by Balia to kiss her good morning on the cheek, “Thanks for breakfast!”

Immediately after that, he went to go pour himself a coffee. As his normal routine, he intended to take the coffee outside with him for his morning smoke. As he poured the coffee, he looked out the window at the barn. It looked like it would be a good day today. After breakfast he should go out and let the horses out, and milk the cattle. 

He was stuck an unlit cigarette in his mouth - he knew better than try to light it in the house - and was just heading towards the back door when Mika sleepily trudged in, and collapsed on a kitchen chair. The look on his face showed that he was still half-asleep.

But these kids knew these houses well. The Kihell Family and the Ueno Family had been neighbors for many years. Both Mika and Ao’s Mom’s were good friends. Mika had known Mrs. Ueno longer than he had known his Mom, and she was like a Mother to him now. The Ueno’s had been looking after him after school for as long as he could remember, and today was no different. 

The two kids and the Pokemon were panting as they hurried to the front door. Without hesitation, Ao threw the door inwards and stampeded in. 

“Hurry Mika, or we’re gunna miss it!“ She cheered as she kicked her boots off. 

Mika didn’t need to be told twice. He had his sneakers off before the last words were out of her mouth. Both kids dropped their bags by the door and rushed to the living room. 

The inside of the Ueno Residence was just as suburban and upkept as the outside. The furniture looked lived on and comfy, but wasn’t worn out. It was warm, and friendly, and there were Pokemon laying about everywhere. 

A happy-looking Growlithe trotted up towards them as they both climbed up onto the couch, but neither of them seemed to notice him in their hurry, so he opted to jump up on the couch between them as Ao turned on the tv. 

Immediately a familiar anthem lit up the room, followed by the voice of an announcer. Good! They hadn’t missed it! 

“Aozora? Mika?“ A kind-sounding voice came from the hallway, “Are you home sweetie? How was school?“ 

“Hi Mom!“ “Hi Mrs. Ueno!“ 

Mrs. Ueno peeked her head into the living room with a curious look... but the moment she saw what was on the tv, a smile crossed her face. She walked across the room and folded her arms on the back of the couch, “Oh! There’s a match today?” “Yeah! Lance is playing today!“ Ao cheered. “Well then, I better go get you some snacks.“ Mrs. Ueno laughed. She leaned down to peck Ao on the forehead, “But as soon as the match ends, I want you two to start your homework. Deal?“ “Deal!“ They both said, without turning their attention away from the TV.

Mrs. Ueno laughed and turned away. Both kids were too transfixed to notice her leaving. 

Without turning his attention away from the tv, Mika grinned brightly. He crossed his legs on the couch and leaned forward, “This is gunna be us some day!” “Next year!“ Ao cheered, “But no crying when I beat you!”  “As if! Eevee and I’re gunna be the next Champions!“ Mika replied.

The announcer finished, and the music pumped louder, attracting their attention fully back to the TV. 

The smell immediately hit him the moment he entered. It was a stale, unwashed smell, that stank of sweat and beer. There was no lights on in the living room and the only light came from from the TV that was playing some sort of infomercial. 

The bulk of the stench was coming from the couch, where a middle-aged man was slumped over wearing nothing but a stained muscle shirt and briefs. He was surrounded by empty bottles and was snoring loudly. 

After the accident, Miguel’s Father had never returned to his room - the Master Bedroom had become a time capsule - left untouched by anything but dust for the last six years. At first Miguel didn’t blame his Dad for not wanting to go in there - he didn’t want to go either. There were too many memories of his mother in there. So, he had let his Dad hunker down in the living room... but as time went on, and his Father made the living room his new bedroom... it had gotten rather stale... literally. 

He flicked on the living room light, “Good morning, Dad.”

Yet again, he got another dissatisfied grunt in response. 2 for 2. That was pretty normally. 

Miguel crossed the living room and put the plate of toast on the coffee table in front of his father. The man was gauntly skinny with sickly pale skin and a thick stringy beard that was in desperate need of a trim.

His Father opened his eyes and murmured, “Mornin’ already?”  “Yeah. Here.“ He gestured at the plate and straightened up, “Have some breakfast.“ 

Miguel instinctively picked up a few empty beer cans, “I’m going to be working late again today... so I’ll bring something home for dinner... anything you feel like?”

Dad just mumbled something in response.

After picking up as much as he could carry, Miguel straightened back up again, “Can you do me a favour today? I’ve got a ten hour shift today, so can you please do the dishes for me? And take the garbage out?”  This got a response form his Father, “Why me?” He grumbled, “I took the garbage out last time.”  

Miguel felt his chest tighten, and he fought back a retort. Instead he sighed, and then tried to keep an upbeat tone to his voice, “Remember what the social worker said - getting up, showering, and getting some exercise is good for you!”

His Dad was about to argue, but luckily the sound of Mika running down the stairs caught both of their attention. Miguel looked over his shoulder at the light from the kitchen, and then back to his Dad, “...I can take the Garbage out on my way out. So all I need you to do is the dishes, please?”  “Fine, fine.“ Dad replied dismissively. 

Taking that as a small victory, Miguel turned around and hurried back to the kitchen to dispose of the cans and grab himself something to eat before he had to go drop off Mika at school, and go to work.

Every day had been like this for the past six years - get ready for work. Get Mika and Dad up. Get Mika ready for school. Work. Come home. Sleep. Rinse and repeat. 

He didn’t have a choice though. There was no time to argue about it. Miguel was used to it by now anyway. He knew that even though his Dad agreed... when he came home from work - the dishes would still be there. Miguel was the sole homemaker and bread-winner of this household. He had been ever since Mom passed away. 

Still half asleep, Miguel walked straight downstairs to the kitchen - where a pot of coffee was already auto-perking. He always made sure, no matter how tired he was the night before, to set it up so it was ready in the morning. The smell lit up the kitchen and helped to chase some of his weariness away.

It would be the normal morning routine. He would have enough time to sit at the kitchen table and scroll through his notifications while he drank his first cup of coffee, and had his first cigarette of the day, and then at 7 o’clock, he would go back upstairs. 

Miguel quickly poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down. The kitchen about him was rather cluttered - dishes from the night before were still piled in the sink, and there was a faint smell of garbage seeping out from the corner - a clear sign it was time to take that out. There was a pile of unopened bills on the table, and there was a sweater or two draped over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. Almost everything was in a state of disrepair - the dishwasher didn’t clean quite right. The fridge was old and noisy. And one of the burners on the stove didn’t heat up. None of the plates and cutlery matched anymore, and some of the pots in the sink were starting to loose their non-stick coating. The yellow light coming down from the ceiling fan in the center of the kitchen did little to hide this. It bothered Miguel a bit... but there was little he could do about it, so once again he pushed it from his mind and tried to focus on his phone. 

Nothing seemed to interest him much though, and he found himself endlessly until his 7 o’clock alarm went off. He sighed, and reluctantly pushed himself from the table and headed back towards the stairs. 

The house was old and the floorboards creaked underfoot. It had been built in the 60′s and the wallpaper that still lined the walls clearly displayed that. It was a simple, two-story dwelling, with three small bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs, and a kitchen, living room, and a small bathroom downstairs. 

Miguel’s room was the first room on the right, and the door was open. Through the crack in the door, he could see a Jolteon still curled up at the foot of his bed, and was still snoring slightly. The room was plain and wasn’t elaborately decorated. The room across the hall from his though was a whole other story. This door was closed - but the door itself was covered in magazine pages of Pokemon Battles and competitions. There was a giant painted name plate hanging from the center of the door that read ‘Mikado’.

Miguel knocked on the door lightly, but heard no response. So instead, he opened the door a crack, and flicked on the light. Unlike his room, the room that suddenly lit up was much more cluttered. Old toys and dirty laundry littered the floor, and there was much more furniture. 

There was a sleeping hump on the bed - curled up beneath a mountain of blankets and pillows. Miguel called out, but he got no response. 

“Mika.“ He said again - this time louder.  “Hmm...“ A soft groan replied.  “Mika - get up. It’s time to get ready for school.“ Miguel replied. 

This time, Miguel saw Mika roll over. The nine year old’s face peeked out from under the blankets with a mess of shaggy black hair that was similar to Miguel’s, only somehow even more messy, and a pair of black, sleepy looking eyes fluttered open, “Five more minutes...” He whined.  “Nope. Get up or you’ll miss breakfast!“ Miguel replied. 

At the mention of ‘breakfast’ a pair of long, brown ears poked up from beneath the sheets, followed by a fluffy head. Eevee trilled and squirmed free and ran towards Miguel. He let her escape the room, before looking back up at Mika, “Better be up in five minutes!”  He just got a groan in response.