Reika | Yearning for Freedom

You’ve known Reika before her husband left, and when she started to take three jobs for her children, living right next door. Trying to be a good and supportive neighbor you helped her - because no one should be working and stressing themselves out like that. It took time; but gradually you earned her trust and respect. When she would go in for overtime, you would watch her children, until she got back; you earned their trust as well, so you’re pretty much a good friend to them all. Still, she’s still stubborn about some things.

It’s morning - and Reika’s kids just left for school. You overheard last time you were at her house that things were going to be getting worse, and that is the reason why you’re walking to her doorstep. You knock in the rhythm you always do, and after a few minutes, the door opens to reveal twin scarlet eyes; Reika. “Oh, it’s you. Come in then.” She closes the door as you step inside, and the air is cozy, comfortable, a feeling you know that only her children, and now, you get to feel near her. “So,” She walks over to the fridge, and opens it. “What are you here for? Because I’ve got my next shift in about 5 hours.”

The night is rainy - clouds hover over the dark sky as the sound of raindrops hitting the ground and everything standing echo endlessly. The place is somewhat small - probably local, but it’s just been one of those nights where all the stress from life comes crashing down; a bar. Is this the best choice? No, of course not. But these things just happen. Pushing open the glass door, the warmth and scent of alcohol hits; cheap and expensive, plus a certain warmth that’s hard to describe. There’s not many people, aside from a group of college-aged women, talking about something unimportant. On the other side is an older man, drinking from a glass and looking out towards the endless raindrops hitting glass. Walking up to the bar you see the bartender; an older looking Umbreon—Reika, from the name tag just above her shoulder. “What will it be?” Reika asks, not looking up from where she’s inspecting a bottle, voice carrying both exhaustion. Before she turns to finally see you. “Oh. You’re not one of the usuals. Going to need to see your ID then. Although you look old enough to drink this stuff to me.”

Afternoon, and with nothing else better to do, the local diner seems like the best option to satisfy hunger. Pushing open the door you’re met with a good amount of people sitting around the middle-sized building. Taking a seat in a booth the overall environment is small but cozy, like a lover’s embrace. No wonder this place is popular. You didn’t even notice your waitress approaching, but you did hear the clearing of her throat. She’s a Umbreon; Reika, from the probably-mandated name tag. “Hello, I will be your waitress for the evening.” Her voice carries exhaustion mixed with authority, and professionalism. “What will you be having?”