Pa's mood was okay that night. He didn't said anything as he stood in, and drank himself to sleep. He didn't greet Sakima nor his sister, and his slump position suggested a passive situation.

On the con note, no talking about life or school like normal families do--not that they were normal. On the pro side, Sakima could leave home.

The window outside blew in through the open window of his room. It was barely a crisp, and he was glad it wasn't winter--which was rare. Snow was never gentle in Michigan.

Kim tossed his ring of yellow gem in the air and caught it in one swipe.

He was called over, to the League--from El Derado, and he felt it was necessary to make it as early as he could.
Fate was on his side.

It was odd--the lingering curiousity had sent him distracted in history. Not that he ever paid attention in History, but still.
Kim was never much of an important figure in the League--he knew that and he accepted that. Better be the everyman. The chameleon who knew how to put up a persona, and mixed in well with anyone. People barely knew him, and his reputation wasn't all that great. His skills were questionable, his looks average.

Why did they call me?
Why me?

Perhaps they would punish him, for running towards Canada in the search of Mishipeshu?
Does the League even care about governments? Or rules?

It was interesting, how in the 5 years he had done service, he knew nothing much about the League. He'd always just thought it was cool, and kind of dangerous. Death risks were common, and the fact that no one would actually believe you were stabbed by a demon--

Okay, really dangerous.

He inhaled the wet air into his lungs, his fingers cold against the passive stone. He fixed his glasses up his nose, and stole a glance to his phone screen. The time shown on display made him nod to himself, grabbing the bag he packed and hour ago.

"3. 2. 1."

Crack!
The smashing noise echoed through the walls--like thousands shards of glass scraping against each other.

Pa had passed out. Green lights for Sakima.

The home had always smelled like alcoholic drinks--sickeningly sweet and elegant. He tried concealing the smell by spraying Febreeze in his room once, but it wasn't enough. When he made way to the living room, the smell practically exploded to his senses. Their house wasn't grand, and not exactly the most comfortable, but he liked it well enough.

The narrow way from his room was well-cleaned, yet bare. White and bleached. No accessories as decorations. Just a plain space that connected rooms to living room.

Except for the pictures, of course.
The framed photos of the happy family. A sane Pa, a present Ma, and their children. The times when what mattered most to Sakima was watching his favorite cartoon. When his most serious problem was passing in Maths.

You'd think he would suddenly have flashes of visions of those times--like in those movies. But he didn't. It was just a blank hole inside him, some remembrance of the past carved in his mind.

Ma might be gone, but Pa was still there. Yet, well...
So near, yet so far.

The thought sent something inside him that he pushed deeper in the hole, releasing a sigh as he passed by. The past couldn't be repeated. Not then. Not ever.

Sakima Lotstein was done hoping.

He made his way quietly, walking by his sleeping Pa. A bottle of wine hung in his hold, two more scattered by his feet. On his lap was his phone, as he sprawled on the couch with his mouth hung open.

He hardly recognised the man--so different than the one he spent his innocent childhood days with. Not to say he was old--but still, it's incredible how mere 16 years could provide so much.

The television was on, some commercial playing on about Dr Pepper. Sakima reached over to the remote control by his fingers, turning it off. That was going to cost his entire piggy bank. And he still needed some for education.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Sakima turned around to see his sister, Ituha, leaning against the kitchen wall. He pursed his lips, his muscles tensed. He slung the bag over his shoulder, one finger fidgeting with the zippers. He was well aware of how guilty he must have looked.

He was an expert liar but it was always hard when it came to Ituha.

She ran a hand through her long dark brown hair, frowning at him. She almost looked like what he imagined would be a mother restricting a child.
"You're leaving, aren't you?"

"Only for a few hours," he jerked a nod, keeping his voice low.

"And that will extend longer, until it becomes a forever."

"Hey, come on," he put his hands up in defeat, stepping away from Pa but closer to her. "I'm not going to leave you like that."

"Where are you even going?"

"Can't say," he put up a shrug, scratching the insides of his palm. He clicked his tongue in an attempt of nonchalance, tilting his head. His family couldn't know about the League. They'd have a heart attack--or in Pa's case, a rage tantrum. "Just stay put. I'll be back."

"And make me handle Pa alone."

"He's passed out. That's gonna be lasting till afternoon, it's not like you just knew him yesterday," he sighed, looking at her eye to eye. She was only a few inches shorter than him--yet 3 years younger. She definitely grew well...at the the wrong time. Or was it him who was short? "Listen, if he tries anything, call me."

"Right," she nodded, giving him the deadpan look. "So you can barge in like some Superman."

"Not as fast, and I don't wear spandex," he smiled softly, trying to get her trust. His heart warmed when he saw her smirk. "But I assure you I'll be there when he starts his tantrums. I'm gonna make sure I'm the one who got the bottle to the head. Don't worry your pretty head off."

"Don't try to ruin my hair, bro, gosh," she pushed away his hand that reached out for a ruffle. Then her teasing smile faltered into a wince. It made him swallow a bitter bile in his throat--reminding him about her birthday last month, to which she only got a simple card from him. And the time when all she had for a dance was tops and jeans. It sent a pang towards him.
She looked down to her feet. "But it's always you. Getting the bottle."

He smiled softly, ignoring the hollow ache in his chest. The painful throb of his arm from the Mishipeshu attack pulsed again through his veins.

"Yup. My head is brittle. I'd make a fine superhero," he tapped on his pocket, feeling the phone inside. His eyes caught sight of the clock behind her. His throbbing arm was like an alarm clock too.

He liked giving affections to Ituha, but that wasn't the time. For some siblings it would be disgusting, but they both knew they had to rely on each other. Cling on each other. "Just call me, okay?"

"Don't take too long."

"I'd get worried if I leave my baby sister alone," he kissed her head, then rushed off to the door. "And yeah, I'll be quick."

Hi, guys! Sorry for the long hiatus! And sorry that there's no mythological creature in this chapter. Wanna give y'all insights on Kim's life at home...