My Will

Thanks for reading!
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The moment I set eyes on the new apartment complex, I let out a loud, disappointed groan.
“This place is even shittier than the last.”

“Watch your mouth,” was my father’s only reply. It was his way of silently agreeing with me. We both knew that this whole thing was just getting ridiculous. Each time we moved, our standard of living went down another notch. This was already one of the worst places we had lived-and I hadn’t even been inside yet.

I stayed my tongue, trying to remain optimistic, but really just not wanting to get into another argument with my father. He was on edge as it was.
He parked the car in the underground garage, and then briefly searched his pocket for the leasing papers.
“Come on, Yash. Maybe this place will have an elevator, seeing as we’re four stories up.”

“We’ll be lucky if this place has a fire escape.” I muttered under my breath as I followed after him.

We did actually have an elevator, though it was not quite up to my hopeful expectations. The hallway we walked down as we reached our floor was near spotless, though, much to my surprise. Finally we stopped at a door near the end, and my father sighed aloud.

“Here we are. 413. Home sweet home.”

“For now.” I added quietly.

“Let’s hope, eh son?”
I nodded silently, and waited for him to unlock the door to our new apartment. The moment it swung open, I was dumbfounded.

“Holy Shit.” I blurted out.

“Holy Shit, indeed.” My father agreed, no longer concerned about my mouth.

It was smaller than either of us would have imagined, and I guessed it would only take me about ten long strides to get from one side to the other. The furniture that came with the place was covered in about a foot of dust, and before I knew it, I was stuck in a sneezing fit.

As I covered my face with my sleeve to hold off the invasion of particles floating in the air, my father stepped inside. I stayed at the doorway, already suffering as it was, and observed from there. He walked into the door on the far left, and from the curses that floated out to me, I guessed the bedroom wasn’t much bigger.

There had been a time in my life when my own bedroom had been about as big as this very apartment. Now, I could hardly remember what it was like, having my own personal space, not cramped into some indigent living quarters.

Things had been so much better before Mom died.

“Yash! Start bringing up our stuff. I’ll try and air the place out so you won’t sneeze to death.”

“Thanks Pop.” I muttered absently as I complied.

I sniffled and wheezed the entire ride down, and then back up. The second trip down was slightly better, and I shared the elevator with an elderly woman who wouldn’t leave me alone until she’s stuffed at least thirty tissues into my jacket pocket.

On the way back up, a young boy rode with me, and he stared slack jawed at me from the moment I stepped in. I shifted away from him uncomfortably, keeping watch out of the corner of my eye. When the damn elevator jammed about halfway, I let loose a barrage of curses. Somehow that broke the kid out of his trance.

“Hey, mister, calm down. It happens sometimes.”

“Fucking perfect.” I muttered, half-ignoring him. He shrugged.

“Well…You get used to it. But you’re lucky I’m here.”

“Why is that, kid?”

“Cuz I can fix it.”

I raised an eye brow questioningly, and he mimicked me with a grin.
“Go for it.”

Without another word, he pried the steel panel from the wall with a quarter, and proceeded to mess with the wires inside. I watched over his shoulder.
“You sure that’s safe?”

“Nope.”

“Then why the hell would you-” I shut up when the lift started up again, this time without that strange creaking noise.

“Cuz it works. Don’t worry though. This only happens once in a while. It just needs a little rearrangement sometimes.”

“I guess I can’t complain…”

To my surprise and dismay, he continued to stare up at me. Then he got off at the same floor as me. Then he walked down the hall towards my door. We both stopped.
“You lost kid?”

“Nope.”

“Then where are you going?”

“Home.”
He pointed towards the door at the end of the hallway and I mentally groaned. Lucky me to get the staring kid as a fucking neighbor.

“So you’re the new tenant, huh? I was wondering when they were gonna rent that place out. So what’s your name? Where you from? How come your hair is so long? Why are you looking at me like that-hey! Is that a Rolex?! Wow, you must be rich!”

“Kid, if I was rich, why the hell would I be moving in here?” I answered as I set the bags down by the door way. I sneezed again before turning to see him scratching his head.

“Yeah, that doesn’t make sense, mister. Why are you moving in here, then?”
I just glared at him, wondering what I’d done to deserve this life.

“Yash? That you?”

“Yeah, Pop.” I called back. My father appeared at the doorway, looking a little…whiter than usual.

“You would not believe how much dust is on that bed. Anyway, did you get every…oh, hi there.”
My father caught sight of the boy who now stared up at him, mouth slightly agape.

“Kid…you okay?”

“Yeah.” He muttered. I sighed, then sneezed, then groaned as I blew my nose for the hundredth time.

“Shit! Fucking dust!”

“Watch your mouth, Yash. Hey kid, you need something?”

Finally, the kid straightened up, and smiled sheepishly.
“Sorry. Mom says it’s rude to stare, but I’ve never seen such long hair on a guy.”

He was no doubt referring to my father’s famous mane, which when left unbraided, reached his lower back.
Mine was only slightly shorter, but the same identical inky black.

“You guys look like twins. Anyway, you want a dust mask, mister? We have some left over from when we painted the lobby mural.”

“Dear god yes.” I mumbled out. Dad was radiating dust particles, and sending me back into sneeze mode.

“Okay, just wait here, and I’ll ask Gramps.”
He rushed off down the hall to the last door, and after a few seconds of fumbling with his key, went inside.

“See. You’re making friends already.”

“Good one,” I rolled my eyes at his joke. “So…how bad is it?”

“Bad. Pretty bad. But its still a step up from that closet your grandfather had us staying in.”
I snorted once in agreement, followed by a sneeze.

A moment later, the kid reappeared with a few dust masks in his hand.
“Here ya go.”

“Thanks kid-”

“I’m Souta by the way. And you’re Yash?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re Pop?” My father smiled, and nodded."

“I am Pop, but you can just call me Ichiro.”

“Or Itchy.” I added with a smirk. A bonk on the head was my father’s only response before he turned back into the apartment, dust mask in place.

“Wow, he sure doesn’t like to be called that does he?” I shook my head as I tied the mask behind my head.

“Nope. Anyway, thanks kid-”

“Souta,” He piped.

“Right, Souta. Well, I gotta get the rest of my stuff now.”

“You want some help?”

I turned and was about to decline, but thought about what kind of shit I’d be in if that elevator decided to short out on me again.
“Alright. You look like a strong guy.”

Unconsciously, he puffed out his chest proudly, and nodded in agreement before following me down the hall.


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“I’m sorry Kagome. No one even saw her go outside.”

I held in the bomb that was about to explode, telling myself that it was all just an honest mistake. After all, Kay was fine, not a scratch on her.
But the thoughts of what could have happened made it harder and harder to keep my mouth shut. So I simply nodded, and picked up my daughter before walking away.

It was getting late anyway.

“Can we give you a ride at least?”

I shook my head, not bothering to turn around, and fighting the urge to use a finger to emphasize my point.
Once outside, I let out a low growl. Kay giggled and reached for my nose.

“Mama is mad.”

“Yes. Mama is mad. Mama is pissed.”

She gazed at me questioningly, before breaking out into a toothy grin.

“Potty?”

I smiled back.


I had left my daughter in the care of my co-workers, while I ran some errands for the daycare office. When I got back, she had been missing for at least twenty minutes. Luckily, an elderly couple who were regulars at the senior center next door recognized her, and brought her back unharmed. I had been on the verge of breaking down, but was even angrier at the people who I had trusted to watch over her.

But all the anger that had been simmering inside me seemed to just fade away with a single word from the little girl in my arms.

“No. Not potty, baby. Just mad and scared. Keiko, you have to promise Mama not to do that again. You could have been hurt.”

“Kay was careful,” she protested.

“That doesn’t matter. You can’t just walk out of the daycare center without a grown up. It’s very dangerous here, and you need someone to take care of you. Otherwise, Mama will cry.”

The effect was immediate, and she clasped my arm tightly.
“No! Mama don’t cry, don’t cry!”

I hated to use that as a means of teaching her, but the one thing that never failed to keep her in line was the threat of me crying. Why it bothered her so much, I could only guess. But it was like she would do anything in her power to avoid that happening.
Her love was astounding sometimes.

“Mama’s not gonna cry baby. Just stay with the grownups and Mama won’t cry.”

“Kay will promise, and Mama won’t cry.”

She held out her tiny pinky and I extended my own.

“Pinky swear.” We said at the same time.
With that settled, we began the short walk home.

After a few blocks, I had to set her down and let her walk on her own, though I hated to do so. But my arms were so tired from holding not only her, but about fifteen other children throughout the course of my shift. Then of course lugging around my school books all day before that.

It was always on the walk home from work that I realized how little time I had to myself.

When I wasn’t working or in school, I was taking care of my family. I still shared a room with my younger brother, and my daughter shared a twin bed with me most nights.

Money was tight, Time was tight, and I hadn’t had a day to myself in three years since Keiko had been born.

I’d spent many nights in bed, right before falling asleep, wondering who was more to blame-my father or Hiten Morita? On one hand, Dad had simply pushed the burden of parenthood onto my mother’s shoulders, ripping away another source of income for my family, and abandoned us in a way I’d never known was possible. But even if he’d chosen not to kill himself, I’d still be strapped for time. I still had Keiko to worry about.

Hiten had done a more unforgivable act to my family. I had no doubts that his actions led to my father’s death, and therefore, more blame rested on his head.
He had raped me mere months after I’d turned fifteen, and then left me to raise a child I was totally unprepared to have, and that he probably had no idea existed.
I was glad that I held no memory of that night he drugged me. I would sometimes wake up from a nightmare, his name on the tip of my tongue, but no images remained after I opened my eyes. I couldn’t even remember my dreams of it.

I sometimes wondered if maybe I was awake during the whole thing, but had simply blocked it out of my memory in some sort of mental self-preservation. Or if my dreams were only the result of my stress, and I was just letting it all get to me.

Either way, I had not intention of trying to remember that night. Some things were just better left unknown.


“Mama. I’m tired.”
I glanced down at my daughter, who was struggling to keep up with my quick pace, and I sighed. I’d been daydreaming again. Absently, I bent down to pick her up, feeling the strain in my lower back return ten fold. But I showed no outward sign of pain. No sense in making Keiko feel guilty.

“Mama. Can Kay play with Uncle when we get home?”

“Yes. As long as he’s done with his homework.”

“Does Mama have homework too?

“Lord does she ever…,” I muttered under my breath, realizing I had a report due in a few days. I hadn’t even had time to start what I’d had two weeks to do.

“How come Mum-mum doesn’t have homework? Or Grandpa?”

“Because they don’t go to school anymore.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re done with it.”

“Why?”

“Because they did all the school they were supposed to.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s the law.”

“Why?”

“To make sure people don’t end up like that.” I whispered.
I pointed to the resident bum who liked to sit and drink under the overpass a block away from my home. Kay finally just nodded.

“Lovely Ladies, wontcha have a seat?! There’s room on this lap here for the both of ya.”

“Not tonight, thank you.” I said firmly, not even casting a glance his way, in our usual ritual.
I didn’t even bother to listen to what sort of insult he would hurl at me this time.

Finally, I reached the steps of my apartment building, and I fished the key out of my purse, but couldn’t find it with Keiko in my arms.

“Mama has to put you down for a minute.” I said bending over. She grasped tighter, set in her way.

“No, Kay is tired.”

“I can’t get the door while I’m holding you. You have to stand.”

“NO!”

“Kay!” I tried to pry her hands from my arms but to little avail. She continued to whine, her voice shrill in my ear.

“Mama! No, Kay is tired!”

“Then you shouldn’t have walked halfway down the damn street earlier!” I yelled back.

I regretted it the moment the words left my mouth like they did. And not a second later, she let go of me, plopped down on her rear, and began to howl.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I leaned against the building and sighed.

This was not my day.
It was never my day.

“Kay. Mama didn’t mean to yell at you. Mama is just very tired too. And she can’t carry you anymore right now. Please don’t cry Kay, I didn’t mean it.”
I soothed, reaching my arms out to her.

She continued to bawl, and didn’t budge from her spot. I could feel the tension collecting behind my eyes, and I knew at any moment, I was about to join her right down there on the steps.

Then the front door opened and my brother poked his head out.

“I thought you were late. Hey, what’s wrong with her?”

I shrugged, and he seemed to understand without me even saying a word. Silently, he took my daughter by the hand, and coaxed her inside.
Once the front door closed, I half ran to the garage below the building, and searched for a good corner to hide in.

When I found a good spot next to a black station wagon, I fell to the ground and began to cry.

Sobs wracked my body, and I whimpered uncontrollably, leaning against the car. It had been at least two weeks since my last good cry, so I let it all out right then and there. Breaking down once in a while was the only way I knew how to distress. Other people had time and money to take vacations or go to spas, or even just a have nice lazy day at home, with no worries, no cares.

Other people had so much more in general.

I felt like such a fuck up. I’d screamed at my baby, letting the day take advantage of me, and now she was upstairs, probably still crying, thinking that I hated her. And then here I was, leaned against some stranger’s car, weak and useless.

She deserved so much better than me…


“Miss? Are you okay?”

A man’s voice to my left drew my attention and I looked up to see an older gentleman with a worried look on his face.

“I’m…I’m fine.” I cleared my throat, and moved to stand up.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes…I’m sorry, is this your car?” I asked sheepishly taking notice of the keys in his hand.

“It is, but I don’t mind. Is there…anything I can do to help you?”

“No, really. I’m alright. Just a family tiff, you know,” I frowned suddenly as I took a closer look at him, and realized I’d never seen in him the building before. “Um, do you live here?”

“Yes, I’ve only just moved in here today with my son.”

“Oh. Well…oh, I’m sorry…I don’t suppose I gave a very good impression. Honestly, it’s a great complex, very clean, very safe-not too many strange crying girls in the garage usually.”

He smiled, and I took notice of how the corner of his eyes wrinkled more than a man of his age should have. I also took notice of the long, thick braid his jet black hair was pulled into.

“Already had my first impression. Believe me, this isn’t any worse than the staring kid.”
I frowned again.

“You met Souta?”

“Yes.” He chuckled. “You know him?”

“He’s my little brother. Kid’s got a problem with manners sometimes. So you must be moving onto our floor then? 413?”

“That’s us. Oh, I’m sorry, I totally forgot. I’m Ichiro Sengoku.”
He extended his hand which I readily accepted.

“Kagome Higurashi. If there’s anything you need, please just let me know.”

“Ah, and the same for you.” He gave me a meaningful look. I looked away a bit embarrassed.

“Um, thank you.”

“Well, would you care to accompany me on the way up? My son tells me the elevator can be a bit tricky.”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, I know how to fix it though.”

“Runs in the family, eh?”

“Yup.”

I wiped away the rest of my tears and prayed I didn’t look as terrible as I felt. He was such a nice man, so polite. He reminded me of my father on his good days.

“Where are you guys from?” I asked congenially.

“We’ve traveled so much, it’s hard to answer that. But we originally come from the West Coast.”

“Oh. What do you do?”

“Another good question,” he sighed. “I do what I can. I lost my wife a while back. I was laid off a few years ago from my job teaching soon after that. Its been hard to hold down a single job since then.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Ichiro. I can sympathize. My father is gone too.”
He smiled warmly, and nodded in acknowledgement. The elevator stopped and we walked down the hall together.

“I hope my brother didn’t bother you too much. He can be a brat sometimes.”

“Not at all. He proved very helpful. You see my son has a very sensitive nose-”
Right then, the loudest sneeze I’d ever heard erupted from the open doorway ahead of us. I jumped in surprise, yelling out in surprise.

“Holy Shit!”

“That’s him. There was an awful lot of dust inside the apartment. Souta got us a few dust masks, but it’s only helped a little.” I nodded, and continued walking.

“Poor guy.”

We reached the doorway, and I peered inside. He wasn’t kidding. It was musty and hard to see, but I could make out a shape moving around in the dust cloud.

“Yash. Come out here. I’d like you to meet our neighbor.”

“If its that old man again, tell him I’m still not gonna try that stuff!”

“Its not. Just come here.”

“Keh!” was the only reply. But a few seconds later, I could see a figure walking towards us.

When he reached the doorway, I almost burst out laughing at the sight before me. Not only did he have on two dust masks, but he had on a pair of dirty goggles and one of my mother’s old scarves around his head. Not to mention a thin layer of white on his skin and clothes.

A few seconds passed, and I realized he was staring at me…just staring…
I began to wonder how much time Souta had spent over here today. Ichiro cleared his throat and broke the awkward silence.

“Um…Yash, this is Kagome, Souta’s sister. Kagome, my son Yash.”

I extended my hand and was about to speak when his body went tense and the sneeze to end all sneezes practically blew him backwards into the dusty room. I yelped in shock and Ichiro just seemed very amused at the whole thing, laughing when a stream of muffled, half-spoken curses spilled out between sneezes.

“He’s delighted to meet you.”

“I can see that.”

Suddenly the door to my apartment opened, and my mother poked her head out.

“Oh, there you are! I was getting worried about you, Kagome. Oh, hello Ichiro. Is your son alright?”

“He’s fine. Just give him a minute.”

“Mama, is she still…you know?” I asked nervously.

“No, but she’s asking where you are. Go inside, Grandpa and Souta made dinner for us.”

I turned to my new neighbor and smiled genuinely.

“It was nice to meet you. Remember, we’re right over there if you need anything,” he nodded and I peeked back into the apartment. “It was nice to meet you too, Yash.”

I could hear him try to reply, but to no avail. With a final wave, I walked down the hallway, preparing myself for making up with my little girl.

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I have the funniest image in my head of Yash flying back into the apartment from the force of his sneeze.