Wayside - 1920s Japan Dramedy

"Lu-chan! We're going out for lunch, you should come down and join us, please!"

Her voice was unmistakable–that was definitely Mieko.

Lucy sat on the floor of her room, one wrist up to her eyes as she mustered up enough willpower not to cry. What was happening to her? She was never a crier, she was never weak. Not until she had to leave South Dakota for Chicago. Not until everything changed.

This was how it was supposed to be. By some grace of God.

She shook her head. The laugh that escaped her was coated with spite, spite for the two men below her and for herself.

Hot tears flooded from the backs of her eyes and spilled on the tatami mat below.

"God damn it." She cursed under her breath as her other hand fisted into the front of her head, wispy strands of baby hair threatening to tear right out of her skull.

She didn't care that she used "the Lord's" name in vain, a so-called sin that her mother indoctrinated her into fearing since Lucy had come out of the womb. In fact, she was now welcoming being struck down by some otherworldly force with open arms–anything to get out of this tolerable-turned-hellish situation.

She cursed him again, her nails nearly drawing blood as they dug into her palms.

Yet here Lucy was, seconds later, still alive and kicking and sitting on the floor in a house with her infuriating uncle an ocean away from everything she knew.

Her face grew hotter as reality set in, lip trembling and her last smidgen of faith fizzling away.

"Just one fucking sign."

She waited for ten seconds, twenty seconds, one minute.

Still nothing.

Just her and her room and the thundering voices and footsteps below her. Her back fell to meet the stiff cushion of her futon, arms spread above her head as the sunlight dried her tears.

How many times had she asked him for guidance? How many times had she asked for anything even slightly signaling to her that what she was led to believe wasn't some convoluted mythical mess?

Her father, her brother, her mother and grandfather, took the word of God to their graves.

They insisted it was true, and for the sake of them, Lucy with all her heart hoped it was too.

But what if it wasn’t?

She shook the thought out of her head. It was true. It had to be, because if it wasn't, then where did everyone go?

Where was her family?

Another wave of anxiety and tears itched to gush from her eyes. Slapping the apples of her cheeks, she sniffed and propelled her back up from the futon just as more tears were about to fall. She blinked her eyes for what seemed to be a hundred times, determined not to let another drop of water escape her.

She had to get up. Even if she was livid about her uncle and Kazuma's agreement, even if she was having some investor-induced crisis of faith, Lucy was not going to make Mieko even more uncomfortable than she already had earlier.

She could survive one meal.

The voices and footsteps below ceased as the sound of a creaking and slamming door echoed up the stairs. All was silent save for an annoyingly persistent tapping just beneath her room. Her brows furrowed as she stood up. Weren't they all outside? Who was staying behind?

She tip-toed to the door and listened closely.

Why was it silent all of a sudden?

No matter which way she looked at it, it would definitely be more effective to just run down the stairs and see who was still moseying about, but that would possibly subject her to two scenarios she did not want to take any part in – either being alone with Mister Kamoi or, even worse, with her uncle after their spat.

But then there was the matter of her rumbling stomach to consider.

Defeated, she threw her neck back in annoyance, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

Gulping down the ripples of unease and hunger swimming up from her stomach, Lucy slid open her door.

Please be Yuko or Mieko, please be Yuko or Mieko.

She steadily descended the stairs as she mentally recited her plea.

Eventually turning the corner from the hallway and into the living room, she froze. Her breath hitched as she spotted a black pant leg jutting from the study room entryway. Her eyes followed the silhouette until she was met with a head of sleek black hair.

It was Mister Kamoi.

Thankfully he wasn’t facing her direction, and Lucy didn't know whether to engage him or simply walk out the front door and join Mieko and the others.

She wanted to go outside, but her curiosity peaked as she heard a sudden rustling of papers.

What was he doing in there?

Was he, for whatever reason, reading one of those ancient shelf-warming books?

Careful not to put her entire weight on each step she took, she silently edged against the wall until she was mere meters away, the only barrier between them being the thin wall dividing the living area and study.

She couldn't help herself – she had to sneak a peek at whatever he was doing. Was he forging documents? Was he actually reading one of those books? Hell if she knew, but she wanted answers. Biting her lip and craning her neck closer to the door, she still couldn't make out his face as he moved from the sitting table towards the bookshelf, one long finger perusing the lines of books with titles Lucy couldn't yet read.

She flinched and cowered back behind the wall when a consistent tapping suddenly sounded through the study. She nearly choked on her own spit when she heard him rounding towards the door, a self-satisfied chuckle dropping from his lips.

「Didn't your parents ever tell you eavesdropping was unbecoming? My my.」

Feeling footstep after footstep as the distance between them closed, Lucy's fingertips burned and her temper boiled.

"Forget your uncle, you alone have cut out quite a bit of work for me, Lucy dear."