No one answered. He sighed a little, letting his head drop momentarily. Brown eyes blinked down at the crisp envelope poking out from beneath the door. He bent down to retrieve it and saw his own name written on it. It had a small flat bulk inside it.

He opened the envelope to a short, harried note:

Son -
Welcome home, sorry couldn't be here. Let yourself in.
Mom & Dad
P.S. - help yourself to anything. This is your home now.

And a key.

That was it.

I don't know what I expected. A party? A homemade dinner in honor of my coming "home"?? He snorted at himself as he turned the key in the lock. Get real. They'd have to take time off work to do that.

He pushed open the door and stepped in, quietly looking around. Somehow, saying anything felt...awkwardly wrong. The apartment was small and immaculate, but a tad dusty. Of course, no one really lived here. The coffee table and end tables were black marble, the sofa was white leather, the rarely used entertainment center was a dusty oak. It was all carpeted in thick silver except for the kitchen which had silver-blue Italian tile laid out. The dining room table was oak as well, with a gold and white flecked navy tablecloth on it. Ren hunted around and found the master bedroom, which looked like it had NEVER been used, or at least, not for years, and the bathroom before he found a room even more disused and empty, if such was possible.

The bed was covered in white - white pillows, white comforter, white sheets. The nightstands on either side of the bed were oak like most of the furniture (had it all been purchased together? he wondered), and two skinny silver lamps with white shades perched on each. The sliding closet doors were mirrors. There was an oak chest of drawers, and a window with white curtains and white miniblinds. That was it.

Definitely changing the decor, he thought as he set down his suitcases. He set the key down carefully on one nightstand, shrugged out of his coat and tossed it on the bed. He looked at the blank walls and the stark whiteness of everything and pulled out his wallet. His parents had always seen to his monetary needs. He had a debit card for a checking account with a few hundred thousand yen in it. I'll go out to eat, then go shopping for some new home decor. Glad I brought my posters along though. He sighed as he looked around.

Although part of me finds this rather fitting. An empty home and an elegantly stark room - doesn't that just say it all? He sighed again. Why can't I have a NORMAL life?? Parents who intrude on my space, are always around and in my business....I start high school next month, for crying out loud!! I doubt I'll even SEE either one of them before then.

By that time the next day, Ren was hanging the last of his posters. The stark white comforter and sheet set were gone, replaced with a black and white checked comforter and black sheets with occasional swashes of white going every which way. The lamps he kept, but changed the shades to red. He'd bought a small table in facsimile oak to put by the window, and his chessboard was setup and ready to play, with two red folding chairs on either side of the board. The curtains were still mostly white, but now had splatters of red and black on them. He'd left the miniblinds. Too much trouble to deal with.

He couldn't do much about the light oak furniture, the white walls, or the silver carpeting, but his posters helped. Basketball stars hung forever in front of the hoop, prints of lush watercolor landscapes beckoned his mind elsewhere. His favorite poster, the one he had hung first, over the bed, was an overblown Black Queen, the White King knocked over behind, and the words, "Don't Mess with the Best - You'll Die like the Rest."

He'd also gotten a cheap computer desk, one you assembled yourself with no tools, made of black piping and fake oak panels. His computer was already humming.

As he finished hanging the dramatic print of a young sorcerer battling a huge dragon, he heard the front door click open.

Someone's home?! His eyes darted to the stereo on one of the nightstands, which had a digital clock, among other standard features. 3:45? Maybe...just maybe...

He jumped down from the chair he had been standing on and nearly tore open the bedroom door. Who is it? Father? Mother? Which one?? I don't even care...

He blinked at the pretty twentysomething woman before him. "Oh, hello!" she said with a bright smile and a pleasant voice. She was holding several men's suits in dry cleaning bags. "You must be Asano-San's son. He mentioned you might be here. I just stopped by to drop off his dry cleaning. I'm his secretary."

Of course...I should've known. I should know better than to get my hopes up. "Oh. I'm Ren. Nice to meet you." He gave her the best smile he could manage at the moment, and she replied, "You do remind me a lot of your father."

Oh gods, I don't know if that's a compliment or an insult.

He made small talk with this woman who assumed that he knew his father as well as she did, and tried not to be jealous. After all, she gets PAID to spend time with him. He noted oddly that she seemed quite used to the layout of the apartment, and didn't seem the least bit shy about poking around in the chest of drawers as she put things away. Perhaps...she gives him a place to stay instead of coming back here? He shoved the thought away. Some emotions he could hide better than others, and he did not like the idea of his father carrying on with a woman half his age. Hell, she wasn't even ten years older than he was himself!

Of course, I can see why Father wouldn't want to come back here. I can't imagine anyone wanting to be around this place. He thanked his father's secretary/possible lover for coming by. She asked if there was anything he needed.

"Oh no, you don't have to..." he began to protest.

"It's okay," she chuckled. "Your father said to see to it that you were taken care of. Oh! That reminds me!" She reached into his purse.

"Please, that's not..." he protested again. She handed him a thick envelope.

"Your father said to give it to you or leave it here for you inside." She smiled at him again as he took it numbly, bid him goodbye and showed herself out.

Not again. What is it this time? The envelope contained several large bills and a note to make himself at home, get whatever food he liked, and that the remainder was to go towards books, school uniform, and other necessary school supplies. He'd already been registered at the most prestigious high school in the area; the enrollment form and information were included with the money and computer-printed "memo". He was to contact the school Monday to verify his class schedule.

He sighed. He tossed the envelope, and all of its contents, on the couch and retreated into his bedroom. Tossing himself onto his bed, he stared up at the ceiling, his mind an angrily depressed blank.

Hell, I can't lay around like this forever. His head lolled over towards the window. The sun was shining brightly onto his chessboard, drawing pawns, rooks, bishops, knights, kings and queens in shining outline.

He grinned and kicked himself up off the mattress. He pulled on his jacket and headed out, grabbing a wad of bills on the way out. Maybe Father got more money by investing; he got it by doing what he did best. It's summer; there'll be a lot of fresh meat tonight. Punks who think they can take me. I'm faster than all of them, and a hell of a lot better. The chessboard is MY turf, man!!

He paused to look back from the doorway into the empty husk that had once held all of his hope for a happy, quasi-normal existence, of coming home, to a family that loved him. "Tadaima," he whispered quietly. The light clicked off, and the door clicked shut.