Shizuo closed the door behind him as he walked to the sofa. His walk was sluggish, but he felt shame with every step he took.
When he finally reached the sofa and wrapped his entire body with a blanket. As he was scrolling through the channels, he recalled the phone call with his father.
His lips compressed as he thought back to how his father treated him. But as he looked around his apartment again, he remembered the offer.
"…you can move out…"
He fixated on those words, as he replayed that conversation over and over again in his head, and every time, they sounded louder.
He took slow and deep breaths of the cold, yet so humid, air to try to calm down and forget about it. But now, he couldn't ignore the walls slowly closing in.
The slow and controlled breaths slowly grew faster and frantic. When he started sweating, he threw the blanket around his body to the floor.
"Stupid blanket," he though, as he extended his legs onto the small table in front of him. But he couldn't fix his eyes to the TV anymore. His eyes darted all around the apartment, looking for the smallest changes, his breathing still irregular.
But when everything seemed to settle back to normal again, he heard a voice behind him.
"Move out," said a voice in a whisper.
But when he turned to find no one, his stomach turned. The voice kept whispering the same thing. "No… not this again… not this… please…" Shizuo kept asking, shaking his head violently.
His head kept twisting and turning. "Stop… stop… stop…" he pleaded, covering his hears to stop the voice. After a short while, Shizuo decided to run to his bedroom.
He locked the door behind him and hid underneath his covers. When he finally calmed down from his frenzy, he decided he'd had enough and wanted to sleep.
Before he finally faded, he let out a quiet declaration as if he wanted to let anyone listening to know. "I… hate this place."
When Shizuo woke up the next day, it had already turned noon. He washed his face and went into the living room looking for his phone. He picked up his phone from the couch, and without any hesitation, he dialed his father's phone.
The phone didn't ring for long before he heard that stern voice again. "Hello, Shizuo," said his father. "Hey, Dad… I've been thinking about what you said, and I have made my decision," replied Shizuo with a cold voice.
His father didn't try to make any small talk. "So, it seems… I will send over some boxes later and you'll be done by Saturday." Shizuo, with a firm tone replied, "Alright then," before hanging up the call.
It wasn't long before he heard a knock on the door. When he opened it, he was greeted by two men.
"G'day to ya… we're with your father's company," said one of the men. Behind them stood a dozen boxes, seemingly empty. "We were told to leave these boxes inside," continued the man.
"Sure… place them wherever," replied Shizuo, trying not to look the man in the eyes. When the men finally finished and left, Shizuo looked around again.
"That man… he was quicker to send boxes than to ask how I am doing," thought Shizuo, shaking his head.
He opened one of the dusty boxes to find a suitcase. It looked new and unused. He took it out of the box and slowly dragged it to his bedroom. He opened his closet and started shoving all his clothes inside the suitcase.
As he finished packing his clothes, he looked around his room. On the floor, was his mother's old and wrinkly shirt. He stared at it for a while before letting out an exhausted sigh. He walked over and picked it up and put it in his suitcase.
Once he started zipping up his suitcase, he could hear it echoing. He felt the uneasiness slowly leave his body. He looked around once more and showed a gentle smile.
On Saturday morning, he received a call from his father. He was quick to pick up and greet his father.
"Hello, Dad," he said, trying to conceal his excitement. "Shizuo… I assume that you have finished packing," he asked. "Yes, Dad… will you be there to show me around?" Shizuo replied with a smile on his face. "I can't today. I have a business meeting," said his father with the same stern voice.
The smile quickly faded from Shizuo's face. "Why did I think this time would be different?" thought Shizuo. "A car will pick you up in an hour or so," added his father.
"Ok then… I understand—" before he could finish, the call had already ended. He stared at his phone silently, scrolling through it.
But, before long, he heard a knock on the door. He put his phone down and sighed. When he opened it, a tall man wearing a suit stood before him.
"Mr. Amaya, I am here to show you to your new house," said the man at the door. "Sure… whatever," replied Shizuo, handing the suitcase by the door to the man.
"I'll be waiting in the car then, sir," bowed the man, politely excusing himself. Shizuo slowly walked back to the couch to grab his phone. He kept looking around, replaying all the memories with his mother.
His eyes filled with tears as he kept walking, the air growing colder. He fell to his knees and started crying, with a smile on his face.
"Thanks, Mom… but I must go now… I l-love you," he said lips quivering. He picked himself up and grabbed his phone. Then, he walked to the open door wiping his face with his sleeves. When he was outside, he looked at the apartment that was lit by the sunlight.
"Thank you, for everything," he whispered, closing the door, and locking it.