The door swings open and Akio shuffles through, bags full of shopping on each arm. It smacks against the opposite wall and ricochets back, nearly clipping him in the face.

  “Goddammit, Alexandria! A little help would be appreciated!” He flings over his shoulder, wrestling the door back open again.

  Cursing under his breath, Akio stalks into the kitchen where he unceremoniously drops the bags on the counter, scatters the contents about the counter in a totally warranted show of pettiness. He brought in the bags, Alex can see to their storage and arrangement.

  Tossing a particular canned something she insisted on behind the dishwasher, he grabs a glass before heading to the sink for a drink. A shuffling sound causing him to pause and head towards the living room.

  “What the hell?” He mutters under his breath.

  Someone is sneaking through the house. Or rather, someone is trying to sneak through the house. The masked culprit is crouched behind the couch, unaware of their reflection on the glass case behind them.

  “Hey!” Akio hollers as he rounds the couch. Causing the thief to rear up in alarm, gun trained on Akio, an ancient tome clutched in their other arm. Akio raises his arms in surrender, unused drinking glass still clutched tight.

  “Whoa, pal.” he chastises nervously, “How about we talk about this for a moment, like say how you got a key?”

  The thief swallows audibly, the hand with the gun shaking in poorly concealed fear. Definitely didn't need a shaman to tell you this one had never fired a gun before.

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  “I don't want any trouble--” They begin.

  “Perhaps you should have thought about that before you broke in.” Akio interrupts. Also, how long did it take to park a damn car? This part he doesn't say out loud.

  “I'm just going to take the book, and leave.” The thief says, gun still trained on Akio as they round the couch, and inch for the door.

  “Listen pal--” Akio starts, but is interrupted by the garage-kitchen door slamming shut. Finally!

  “Really?!” Alex screeches indignantly, obviously over the mess in the kitchen.

  Akio can't find it in him to appreciate her annoyance at the moment. Breath hitching in his throat when Alex pops her head out the kitchen door to possibly berate him, and takes in the scene.

  “What the--”

  The fragile atmosphere is shattered by the crack of a gunshot. Akio's eyes widening in fear, as the gun person hightails it out of the house in the distraction. He looks down to catalog his torso, whimpering when he sees the red patch spreading just over his sternum. The glass cup falls from his grip, shattering into a million pieces.

  “Motherfucker.” Alex mutters, darting to quickly catch his teetering body. She lays him down gently, avoiding glass shards while cradling his head, her other hand rifles through her jacket for her phone.

  “You're alright.” She promises, fingers dialing quickly.

  “Alex.” Akio wheezes. In the end, he's a doctor, he's not going to pretend like the wheezing is a good thing. “I don't want to die.” He struggles out, blood spraying as he coughs.

  “You're fine.” The phone is on Alex's ear now.

  “Hello this is 911 how can we help you?” The operator's voice echoes through the eerily silent house.

  “Ambulance.” Alex grits out. “I need an ambulance now.”

  “Can you tell me exactly where you are?” The woman responds calmly.

  Alex chances a look at Akio to find him glassy eyed, body slack. She freezes.

  “Hello?”

  She can't help but stare at him unmoving. Half expecting him to pop back up and scold her for keeping the nice lady on the phone waiting.

  “Hello?” The operator tries again.

  It is with great difficulty Alex gets her throat to work again.

  “F-false alarm. Everything is fine now." She grinds out mechanically before ending the call.