The Jorougumo’s Toy Hospital: Chapter 1: Enough G.M. Germer, 17
"You good for nothing rodent!" Mrs. Miyake spat, shoving a plate of food in the face of her 19-year-old son Hibiki, who had just been shoved onto the floor of the dingy kitchen. "I give you exact instructions, down to the fractions, and you still screw this meal up!" Mrs. Miyake threw the plate onto the floor, smashing it and sending sauce flying onto Hibiki's old uniform. "How am I supposed to retire when I have no heir worthy of inheriting my shop and no way of making another ever since you make Papa end his own life?!" Hibiki didn't answer, nor did he make eye contact with his mother, until she grabbed a fistful of his shaggy black hair and forced him to look up. "You will never be able to surpass me or your Aunt Minami at this rate," she spat, "I don't know why I even gave you a chance to cook tonight." Hibiki stared into his mother's dead black eyes. "I swear I followed it this time, Mother. I swe-" A cold hard slap was planted on his face before he could finish. "It was not good enough for me! And if not good enough for me, then not good enough for customer!" Mrs. Miyake dragged Hibiki by his hair to the back of the restaurant and threw him out the door into the cold, mid-Autumn night. "You no cook here any longer. Clean out food scraps, then go home." She kicked the broken plate out the door before slamming it. Hibiki gave a sigh before running a hand through his hair. Phew. Still no bald spot yet from all the tugging. He looked back up to the door, then over at the bags of trash waiting to be hoisted off to the nearest dumpster, which was a good hike away from the family restaurant. Better get going, then. Taking two of the bags in each hand, Hibiki dragged them across the carpet of damp leaves left from noon's thunderstorm, thankful for them, as it lessened the chance of the bags getting shredded by the concrete. He walked through the dark back alley in his half of Brichester City, ignoring any shady pair of eyes who just happened to look his way. Honestly, at this point, he'd prefer
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