The Grand Alteration (Retry)

The drunkard was in the same house as him, with a gun in his hand. And his target was the unarmed boy, his son, who remained hidden.

And all the boy could hope to save himself with was the new environment he hid himself in. He had to think quickly about how to stop his father or, at least, stop himself from firing the next bullet.

The clock that drew the drunkards attention was helping him. Giving him more time, but he knew that it wouldn't last long. If it was possible, then he would've remained cradled in that corner he hid himself in. Though, that was a terrible hiding spot because he wouldn't be so hidden if the drunkard entered the room.

So he had to take a thorough and fast look at his environment to find anything that might help.

Kuyo: This... is the kitchen¿

He only thought of the environment he was in a few seconds ago. He quickly realized that he was in the household kitchen. Maybe if this was the storage room of a firearms dealer, then the usefulness of his environment would've improved by 100x, but sadly, all he had was the kitchen...

Kuyo: What am I doing here?

That damned sexist. He wasn't fully aware of all the items that were present in that room. After all, his mom did almost all the household duties, except for laundry. That was Kuyos' job. Nevertheless, no household would save him. Only his intuition and improvisation skills.

Kuyo thought of what it was he could use. Well, he could see for himself.

He looked around by scanning the room with his eyes. There was an island in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by tables and cupboards and sinks. The upper cupboards had glass panels to look into them. The sink had nothing on it, as Kuyos Mom took care of it before she left that day.

On the island, he found some of the ingredients that his mom had bought from the convenience store. There was no food capable of harming nor defending people, so he left them alone.

On the left cupboard, away from the sink, there was a cutting board, Kuyos mom had left it on the table. If it were a wooden board, then it would've been useful as a bludgeoning weapon. Yet, it was made of glass. The type that was rather thick. Kuyo knew not of the type of glass that was made to use it, but it didn't matter.

'Glass is glass'

It didn't take half a brain cell to know that. If he hit his dad with it, then it would simply crack on contact. In this situation, where he had to remain unnoticed by his drunkard father, the glass cutting board would fail him in that department. It was too... outstanding to go unnoticed.

If he attacked his father, one second too late, that second bullet would be fired.

And if that happened...

'I DIED'

'FIN'

That would be Kuyos fate. He needed to make sure that didn't happen.

He didn't really know what else to look for. He wanted to reach for the drawers and open them, but he knew that it would be too risky.

If he pulled any of them open by even the slightest millimeter, the sound caused by the friction would alert his father, knocking him out of the trance he was stuck in.

And if he opened any of them slowly to do it silently, he'd take so long that his father would walk in the room and catch him in the act.

'I was shot.'

'I DIED.'

'FIN.'

That wasn't a good idea. And with that idea ruled out, he had run out of options.

If he didn't find something, it's not like he'd be able to defend himself bare-handed. After all, he never learned how to fight or defend himself. He could never resist against his fight.

He didn't know how he would disarm the gun from his fathers' grip, let alone take him on physically.

So what option did he really have? He couldn't tell at all. He feared that there was nothing he could do...

Until...

A glimmer. A reflection, really.

A small smash of light under the kitchen headlight caught his attention while he was looking for an eligible weapon to defend himself against his father.

And it was exactly what he needed.

There, he saw it, the item that was most eligible as a weapon. After all, its name fits into the category of the many weapons of the world.

It was a huge silver knife, which he knew he could use. That was the one his mom always used. He had seen his mom use it a few times to cut meat, and that was all the info he needed to know that he needed it.

*****

See, his mom's cooking was incomparable to many. It was something Kuyo always looked forward to. That was why she turned to cooking him Katsu Curry to cheer him up.

Everyone in the house enjoyed her cooking. It was many of the things Kuyos dad loved about her.

'The way to a man's heart is through his stomach.'

That was the best advice mentioned in the entire history of romantic advice.

If it wasn't, then unfortunately, Kuyo wouldn't have existed, and even if he did, his surname wouldn't be "Iwatane," but "Hanagaki" or the surname of another man.

Why was that the case?

Her cuts.

When she cuts her food,she cuts it ever so beautifully to the point where it affects the textures of the food. The meat and vegetables that were sliced down by her hands were always the most delicious.

And it truly was because of that knife. A silver knife that she valued a ton. It had a sharpness like no other. It was truly one of a kind.

But more importantly, her love. She would put her feelings into the meals that she made. That was very true, even if she could attest to that.

She truly loved cooking. That was why she was set on making Katsu Curry for Kuyo, to the point where she left the house to go a long way to buy Panko crumbs.

Her extraordinary... no... extraterrestrial (put of this world) cutting skills, and the love she had for cooking...

Those were the reasons why she was the best.

*****

He had come to the conclusion that the knife was an eligible weapon for one reason.

It wasn't super pointy like a syringe or the types of knives that thieves use.

But it was sharp. That was its deadliest feature.

If he stabbed his dad, he would at most only let him go with a scar from the attack. That was shitty. But if he were, to say... slit his throat...

Tsssssssssss

The thought of it rang out through his mind. He could imagine how his attack - ehrm, I meant defense - would turn out.

If he slit his throat, he could stop him from firing the next bullet.

If he slit his throat...

If he slit HIS throat...

If he SLIT his throat...

If he slit his THROAT...

Kuyo: Hah...

Slit his father's throat.

Slit his father's THROAT...

Slit his FATHER'S throat?

SLIT his father's throat!

Was that something he could do?

Maybe there were another two reasons to NOT use the knife, which overweighed the one reason he had to use it.

He, one couldn't use THAT knife

And he couldn't use that knife against his FATHER.

That knife... it carried too much love in it to be used for something other than cooking. For such a hateful act...

And even if it was to save himself, he couldn't kill HIS FATHER. He couldn't grab that knife and slit his father's throat in cold blood. That wasn't a physical problem, but it was also a problem beyond the mental.

He couldn't kill him...

He was too hesitant about such a thing.

He couldn't kill him...

*Clang*

And there it went. The weapon he hoped he could defend himself with brought him closer to danger.

*Thud*

That sound the knife made when he dropped it. It was loud. It was likely loud enough to break his father out of his trance. Kuyo could hear it in his footsteps

*Thud*

Or did he fall? He couldn't really tell, but he could tell it was getting closer, so truthfully, the answer was...

That was the sound of death approaching.

Now, the hesitant boy had a choice

Use the knife or don't use it.

He was stuck with that choice.

The hesitant boy didn't know what to do. Making the choice that decided whether he lived or died would take some time. It's time that he didn't have.

So what did he do?

*****

The drunkard was still in the hall. He was facing a clock. He was trying to synchronize his humming with the clocks ticking. Or maybe that was what it seemed like.

Dad: Tick... Tock... Heheh... Tick... Tock...

Whatever it was assumed, he was doing or thinking, it probably wasn't the case. After all, the drunk mind was confusing. It's Misunderstandable as well

*Clang*

He heard a sound that was loud enough to be heard from the bedrooms of the house. But he was too drunk to know that.

He could only hear that sound of something dropping. That sound ended up drowning out the sound of the clocks ticking. Finally, he finally snapped out.

Dad: Eeeeeegh~ What was zat~

He was still drunk. Even though just from listening, one could tell the sound was from close proximity. That meant one in his position would know it was in the kitchen. Nevertheless, the drunkard was too drunk to know such a thing.

However, he managed to follow that sound. And so, he took one step towards the room.

His son was in their, hidden in that room. But even though he dove into that room right in front of him, he was too drunk to know.

That was his own child he had shot at and was now intending to shoot again, but again, he was too drunk to know.

But he still approached the kitchen. There was only a door to look into the kitchen and nothing else, so he couldn't see whatever it was that whoever was there might've been doing in there.

After a few labored steps, the man, with the intention of shooting his son, entered the kitchen. Then he immediately turned his sights.

Then he saw someone over-

Bang!