"Is Mahiru serious?!" Ryuusei groaned as he pocketed his phone. "He could've asked us for help or something if he needed it. Wonder what this 'errand' is all about." He drew quotation marks in the air as he spoke, then sighed.

"It's fine, it was probably sudden. Well, we can still go check out the store without him," The red-eyed individual behind him shrugged nonchalantly, seeming to be used to their missing friend's spontaneity. Mahiru kept things clean and in order, and he worked efficiently, although these impulsive decisions sometimes had gotten him in trouble. Today was a good example; he'd technically be skipping class. If he entered classes in the afternoon without a letter from his uncle, he'd surely get a record.

Well, it's not like the school was too strict on these rules, but students had to be students.

"Maybe we could just sit this one out and go back together when he's here?" Koyuki proposed, pulling on the fibers of his bag.
"Hm... you have a point but," the blonde threw his hands up. "No way I'm going to miss the opening! Mahiru can just go f—"

Sakuya couldn't help but look at the message again. It was a little too rushed. Well, maybe it was an emergency? But then again, there was a chipper tone to it, one you wouldn't exactly feel from someone who was facing crucial moments.

Whatever kind of lie Mahiru was weaving up this time, Sakuya sure as hell didn't like it.

Whatever bulshit this kid was up to, Kuro wasn't liking it one bit. Despite the fact that he'd— against his initial intentions— spilled the news of his involvement with the splitting of his former band, Mahiru refused to budge. The brunette simply nodded, directed his gaze skyward as if thinking, then bobbed his head again, looking like he was coming to a conclusion of some sort. He crossed his arms, giving himself an air of solidity; he shall not be moved.

"Well, I guess you did what was needed, Kuro. Whatever you say isn't going to make me leave. I'm here for answers." he said, and Kuro could imagine the sparks of resolve in his eyes if this had been some sort of cartoon. He sighed, leaning on the wall, hands pocketed, his right foot tapping on the ground impatiently. He once made the mistake of interacting with Shirota Mahiru more than necessary; he wouldn't do it again. Better to withdraw while he still could, else he forget the inevitable and lose himself in the waves of trouble.

"What do you know? Up until that live show, you weren't even interested in our craft. Don't act so high and mighty just because you've learned your chords." he saw Mahiru visibly wince, although the latter didn't react violently.
"That's not... hey, you've been doing this before too. When you started responding less and less, you were— you spoke as if you were discouraging me or something. Or telling me— have you actually known you'd be disbanding before you did?"
"Yeah, you could say I'm an asshole. Now I told you to fuck off after inviting you. Solid proof I'm an asshole. I'm currently asking you to leave. You can connect the dots." he sighed, as if exhausted. "Ah, I'm too old for this entire conversation. I'm having highschool flashbacks."
"So this also happened before?"
"... That... That was sarcasm."

Mahiru mouthed an 'oh', his obliviousness almost comical. Kuro was almost impressed. Almost.

"Why are you even so set on making me leave?" the brunette asked, shifting to his left.
"Why are you so set on getting these so-called 'answers' out of me? You have technology, there's Google."
"Please stop doing that, you're only making this conversation longer than it has to be."
"It makes a longer chapter."
"Kuro, this isn't a book!" Mahiru cried out in disbelief, throwing his hands up again. It seemed to be a manerism. "This is reality, and I'm asking you why you suddenly stopped talking to me without even saying goodbye."

There was a pause, and Kuro opened his mouth, then closed it again as if losing his words. Looking somewhat victorious, the other individual in the room offered a small smile of smugness.

"How sure are you?"
"Huh?"
"That we're not in a book?"

His smile froze. If this were a gag anime, and he had glasses on, he'd have an irk mark on his forehead while his glasses cracked. That was the kind of situation it was at the moment. Now Mahiru was on his feet, barely containing his irritation.

"Could you please get serious," he ran a hand through his hair, then began to pick up the scattered pieces of garbage on the floor. Kuro started, his shoulders leaving the surface of the wall, his hands slipping out of his pockets as he tentatively took a step forward. He felt odd, as if this very moment was a catalyst, a symbol.

"Hey—" he called out, interrupted before he could form a coherent thought. Mahiru glanced at him over his shoulder, already shoving the empty containers from this week and the week before's cup noodles into a stray plastic bag he found in a corner. Ironically enough, it was a plastic bag from the grocery.
"Not only does this mess annoy me, you're adding fuel to the fire. Now let me clean this place. And then we'll talk."
"Uh—"
"No." Mahiru went over to the door and clicked the lock into place, pocketing the key hanging by its ring on a small metal hook affixed to the wall. "You are not getting out until we're done talking."

"He's a mom," Kuro thought. "A classic Asian mother."

A genuine look of horror crossed his face as the brunette opened the unused cupboards and looked into corners in search of a broom. He took down curtains and opened windows, the clatter of mugs and spoons accompanying the nostalgic melody of water flowing from the tap as he set to work on washing the dirty mugs, remnants of instant coffee sticking to the bottom of each one.

"Hey, Kuro, do you think maybe you could wipe the cupboards? I think I found tissues somewhere in there," he spoke for the first time ever since he began neatening the place as if it were his own, his automatic work mode already on, all previous exchanges forgotten as he focused on his task. "So maybe you can use that to, like, give the inner surfaces a preliminary cleaning. We could go get a— wait, do you have a duster around here or something?"

Kuro shook his head, still trying to register this unusual situation. It wasn't Mahiru's business, really, and it was sure as hell that no one told him to start rifling through unused spoons and forks just to say they were dusty. But as soon as he hooked the handle of the final mug to the plastic ware on the wall, he was already moving on to the next task.

"Hey, I told you to start cleaning the cupboards— oh, hey, you've got a can of aerosol here— so what are you doing, standing there, staring at me? If we want work to be done maybe an hour after lunch, we gotta move."
"I didn't even..." Kuro began to argue but bit his tongue. It seemed to him as if Mahiru had turned deaf, issuing orders and shutting out protests.

"And wait, an hour after lunch? Does he plan to make the place sparkle?"

Kuro, albeit lazy, felt as if he didn't have a choice. With a painful sigh, he was up on a stool he pulled over to his side, doing something he'd never done in years; domestic activity.

"Phew, guess we finished earlier than expected!"

Mahiru tossed a bag of trash over to the door, apparently having stuffed the remaining rubbish into the black trash bag he'd found an unopened pack of under the sink. Surprisingly, there wasn't much to empty out in the space which, only earlier, had seemed to him a vast expanse of plastic, paper, and other materials used for packing food. It was unfortunate he couldn't find canned fruit that wasn't expired, but he just guessed he had to scrap the idea of preparing a refreshing snack for the two of them.

"Hey, I'm hungry. Let me go to the grocery or something..." Kuro complained from the bed, snapping Mahiru back to the scene he was currently in.
"No one eats until we're done cleaning."

Kuro had stopped helping with the cleanup as soon as he was done with the final empty cupboard, tossing the boxes he found onto the floor. He then dragged himself over to the untidy bed, collapsing face-first onto the sheets. Mahiru was now beside him, kneeling on the wooden floor to clean the space under the old metal frame. As he lifted the covers, he found a bunch of broken drumsticks, which made him smile vaguely. So Kuro still cared about his former bandmates.

He was rolling them out with the other end of the broom when the former vocalist shifted and shot him a question.

"Hey, why'd you bring your guitar, anyways?"

"Of course I would bring it. I want you to sing for me again."

today's chapter is a little lacking i guess (i admit, i've been losing appropriate words over it), but here you go! i've only had about 3 hours of sleep in 72 waking ones so this note may not make sense. see you next week!