Tomorrow Will Be Kinder

starts.

CHAPTER ONE – ICHIRO

Dark Come Soon – Tegan & Sara

After a night that was too quiet to be slept in, I feel like I might spit poison if I open my mouth to speak. I miss the noises, the cars rushing down the road, even the sirens and crashes, but instead deafening silence surrounds me, even now in the late morning.

I sit in my room, staring at the narrow bare walls that are not mine. There's a naked light bulb on the ceiling, throwing ugly light down on the shoebox that is now my new room, and for some reason that bothers me the most. I want to close my eyes again, wake up from this nightmare, punch these walls until I feel something else than angry, but I don't.

Instead, I get up and pad down the hallway to the kitchen. My dog Pixel greets me happily and tries to jump up at me until I tell her not to. My parents didn't want me to take her with me but this was one of the fights I won. Or the only one, really.

Morning, I say as I see Jenna setting the table.

She looks up and smiles at me. Good morning! Had a good night, Yuki?

It takes every ounce of politeness inside me to not tell her off for using my middle name. Not really.

Must be very different from home, she says and shrugs. If I hurt her, she doesn't let me see it.

I nod and sit down. It must be weird to suddenly have a teenager in your house after living alone for years. She doesn't have a husband or kids, and we never really see each other except for Christmas. My dad said she doesn't get along with mum and I can't blame her.

We will probably get used to each other once she stops using the wrong name. Maybe I will like her better than my mother – which doesn't take all that much – but that doesn't make me hate this place any less. I already miss the space of our house, the brightness, my double bed. But none of this is Jenna's fault. I have to keep that in mind.

Do you like sports? We can go have a look at the clubs they have here, you could make some friends in a team, couldn't you? she suggests and I almost laugh.

I'm not really athletic, I say and help myself to pancakes. As if that wasn't obvious from my skinny arms and slightly chubby hips.

What else do you like doing, then?

I sigh internally. Reading, I guess. Playing video games, watching films, teaching Pixel tricks. I don't really do much.

Jenna brushes her wavy blonde hair back and gives me a little smile. I wonder how someone can look so much like a good mother and not have kids. Then it might make you happy that there's quite a nice cinema here in Whinsk. And a good book store.

I might not die of boredom, after all. Unless the cinema only shows documentaries.

Jenna pulls something out of her pocket and presses it into my hands. My fingers close around a few banknotes.

I know you miss home, she says. Go buy a nice book for yourself.

Thank you, I breathe, momentarily overwhelmed by her kindness.

I help her tidy up after breakfast, feeling guilty for being so grumpy, and decide to give the book shop a chance.

Today is brighter and busier. Pixel enjoys the weather and plays with the leash and I let her because I know she's hyper. There are more people outside, now that the sun occasionally shines through the clouds, and I notice that this town mostly consists of old people. The city feels like a skinny grey skeleton, stripped of all colours and wonders, leaving only the most basic frame behind when I walk through the narrow streets.

The book shop is almost empty and painfully quiet after the ding of the door, like a library, even though a shabby radio blares from the ceiling.

Hello. Is it okay if I bring her in? I ask the cashier who turns from a shelf once he hears my voice. It's a relatively young man with a flop of curly brown hair and an easy smile. He nods eagerly when his half moon eyes spot Pixel. Of course!

Thank you.

Are you looking for something specific or…?

I'm just looking around, thanks.

I escape the cashier and bury myself in the fantasy section from which I can see the door. There are two cosy looking red sofas and a coffee table surrounded by the shelves, and I decide to sit down there once I find a book. If I return straight away I will have to face the emptiness of my room or hang out with Jenna in the living room, and I am not ready for any of those things.

Head tilted to the side, I skim through the titles and run my fingers over the paperback spines. There is something incredibly calming about a room filled with stories. I would like to live in one. Maybe I will have my own library some day.

Finally, I pull out a book and sit down on the couch. Pixel wants to jump on it, but I tell her to lie down next to me, so she does, and I start reading.

I have just finished the prologue when the cashier comes over. Would you like a coffee, too?

I am pleasantly surprised by how much I like this guy. Yes, please.

Sorry to bother you, but are you new here? the cashier asks. I look for a name tag but can't find one.

Yes. I feel bad for not saying more but I can't think of anything. Small talk has never been a strength of mine.

The man smiles. Welcome to Whinsk, then. Where are you from?

Central London.

Wow, what a difference. The cashier is about to ask something else but the door jingles again, and he excuses himself.

That's when I see him for the second time.

The thin boy from the road comes into the shop, dressed in black skinny jeans and an equally colourless hoodie. The first thing that comes to my mind is the word emo and I chastise myself mentally for being judgemental. But I just can't find a better word to describe him with his straightened black fringe covering most of his pale face.

There are few people that actually look good with black dyed hair and I think he is one of them.

The boy blocks the cashier's attempt at helping and goes straight through to where I sit, glancing at me once before turning to look at the books. His expression is cold.

What a depressing human, I think, depressing but still strangely pretty.

Before I can ponder on what exactly makes him so handsome, the boy turns around halfway and glares at me.

What are you staring at? he snaps.

Nothing, I mumble and look down again, blood shooting into my head. Hardly here for 24 hours and I have already managed to embarrass myself. Well done.

In the minutes it takes my skin colour to return back to normal, the black haired boy picks a book, pays, and leaves. I glimpse his frigid eyes again through the shop window and turn away quickly, just as the cashier comes back.

I am Jack, by the way, the guy says as he turns on the coffee maker that stands between the comics and the kids section.

Nice to meet you. I'm Ichiro.

Excuse me if I am too curious, but are you foreign?

I sigh. Half Japanese.

Jack nods and hands me a steaming mug, and I set it down in front of me, adding some sugar.

I don't know if he expects me to keep the conversation going or not, so I just sit there, waiting. Pixel sighs contently next to me on the floor, only making the awkward silence more obvious.

Just call me if you need anything, Jack says and leaves with his own cup.

CHAPTER TWO – CIAN

Stage 4 Fear of Trying – Frank Iero

Today is crisp but not cold enough. I know winter isn't all that far now but I can't wait. Time does things to me and nothing is safe and for all I know, it might be my last winter, so I want it to be a good one.

Turning the pages of the book I just bought becomes harder, not only because my fingers are stiff from the cold, but also because the words blur and mix in front of my eyes and I have to really concentrate to understand them. I fucking hate days like these. The Bad Days. Where I can't run away from who I am, when I can't even distract myself.

The old oak towers above me like a soldier protecting me, but the wind rips at my clothes anyway. Somewhere in all the howling, a dog barks and I jump, angrily composing myself again in case someone walks by. I make myself look unapproachable as the dog barks again, closer now.

Then it comes into sight, a long legged, shaggy thing, brown-white, ears flapping, way too happy to see me. I'm scared that it comes closer, so I put on my coldest mask.

I don't have to wait long for the owner to come into view too, and I almost make an irritated noise. It's the boy from the book store. I hadn't noticed the dog back then, but it's him with his red sweater and brown hair and slightly Asian looking face. I am annoyed as soon as I see him. Or maybe I've been annoyed before. It's always hard to tell what the fuck I am feeling on Bad Days.

Mind if I sit down here, too? the boy asks and gestures to the other, empty, bench.

I stare at him, eyes hard and unreadable. If I waver, I lose. Yes.

Excuse me? the boy says and his confusion is almost funny.

Fuck off, I spit back and pretend to go back to reading but the words are swimming away from my eyes. I wait for the sound of feet carrying a body away from here but I don't hear anything but the wind and my pulse. I want to be alone. I need to be alone. My blood feels too hot in my veins.

I hear foot steps coming towards me and then the noise of someone sitting down on rotten wood. This time, I let the irritated sound out as I spot the boy on the bench across from me.

Did you even listen? I ask.

The boy looks up, brown eyes innocent. Yes.

Then fucking go.

This is a public place.

Then why did you bother asking? I make it sound like an accusation.

Because it's polite.

If you were polite, you would leave me alone.

Maybe if you were, I would.

If this was a Good Day, I would give him credit for this comeback. But this is a Bad Day and I am ready to break things, so I answer, This doesn't work with me.

Too bad. Finally, the boy gets up, calls his dog, and leaves. I feel like breathing in after diving too deep.

After my heartbeat returns to its normal pace, I pick up my book again but I can't remember where I was or what it's about or why the fuck I bought a new paperback when I'm having a Bad Day. Then I get so frustrated that I get up and smash the book against the tree until the paper tears and the cover falls off, and it's only then that I realize my hand is bleeding.

It's so hard to feel things when all my days are Bad.

CHAPTER THREE – ICHIRO

Toxic – A Static Lullaby

The next day, I am sitting on the small sofa in the living room, still slightly outraged about yesterday's encounter with the boy. The TV shows me something about a lot of people fighting and flirting, and it's kind of funny but mostly predictable and not enough to distract me from where I am.

Really, I should enjoy the time alone with the remote while Jenna is working in her study, but I'm not really in the mood for anything.

I still can't get used to the silence and smallness of the town and I still can't sleep. It doesn't help that the beginning of school is looming above me like an executioner. Given that I hate most people my age and that I am terribly awkward, I guess I won't make a lot of friends. Not that I wanted them, anyway.

I look at Pixel who chills on her dog bed, her paws neatly tucked under her body. In contrast to me, she looks like she has never belonged anywhere else.

Wanna go outside? I ask and her ears twitch. When I get up to grab my jacket and a pack of cigarettes, she jumps up and follows me.

Knew you wouldn't let me down, I say quietly and feel for my keys. I leave my phone where it is, wanting to tempt fate, even though I know that such a thing doesn't exist. I would never have done that in London.

Pixel runs down the stairs in front of me and I wonder how long we'd have to live here for them to ruin her joints.

The air outside is cold and slaps me in the face with force. It's easy to forget how far up north I live now when I keep pretending I don't. No more sunshine in summer, then. Not that I really care about tanning.

Pixel runs a few feet away from me, sniffing a patch of half dead grass in the drive way. It's already getting dark now but I don't mind it. I wonder if I care about anything right now but can't find a single thing.

I light a cigarette which is not easy with the wind blowing from what seems to be every direction, but I manage and inhale deeply. Even though I am just over seventeen, I've been smoking for a few months now. I don't care what it does to my body. Other things are more likely to kill me. My parents either didn't care or didn't notice. Not that they would've been able to stop me when they lost their influence by making me grow up on my own. I just need something to make time bearable when it's a rough day.

In less than 24 hours, I will have to face the youth of this hicksville and I am so not ready for that.