COMING OF AGE | Nishimura Riki

019 | homely

sato mai
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Am I following in my Dad's footsteps? Am I following the stereotypes and expectations people have of me? At this point in my life, avoiding everyone's stereotypes and expectations is hard.

It doesn't matter if I am the polar opposite of the made-up image, no one would believe it anyway. It doesn't matter how often I would correct someone by telling them I am not who they think I am. At the end of the day, I should just be that person everyone thinks I am, it's easier that way.

People say it's better to be liked by a few people for being who you are than to be liked by many people for being someone else. It sounds logical to me but why am I still disliked no matter which version of myself I am?

"Have you heard that someone broke into Kinmyaku last night?" Someone asked.

I caught two female students standing by the lockers, gossiping while organizing their bags and lockers. I hid myself nearby as I continued to listen to their conversation. Sometimes, it is okay to eavesdrop, like when the conversation is related to you.

"Really? Did they get caught?" The second female student asked.

"The security camera didn't catch them, but the security guard did see something. Some people believe it was a ghost" The first female student answered.

"That's scary. If it was a ghost, I hope it stays at Kinmyaku because I don't want to be around any ghost" The second female student replied with a chuckle.

"Are you two still in 3rd grade? Ghosts don't exist, it's obvious Sato did it" A male voice joined the conversation.

"Didn't her Dad get arrested after threatening the royal family? Maybe Sato is planning on taking revenge on Crown Prince Riki" The second female student assumed.

My fist is shaking out of anger. Once again, my Dad and I are nothing but two misunderstood people, especially my Dad. I can handle hearing people talking shit about me behind my back, but I can't handle people talking shit about my Dad.

Before letting my anger take control, I left. I still have two lessons left, but no one would care or be surprised if I didn't show up. Plus, I'm too angry and emotional for class, I need to be alone.

I hate whenever your day is solid, it's a decent yet nice day, but then your whole day gets ruined because of idiots with no life.

🌥️

The only thing I like about school is that it is a place where I can go. Other than school, I don't have a place to go. I do have a place to live but wouldn't necessarily call it a home just because I live there. Being homely is not a feeling that is connected with a place, it's connected with people.

Before entering the hospital building, my phone started to ring. An unknown number is calling which only means one thing, it's my Dad.

"How are you doing?" I asked.

"Great! I don't have much time to talk so I will go straight to the point. I might get released" My Dad announced.

"You are?! That's amazing! How come?" I responded out of excitement.

"Since I have been doing so well and haven't involved myself in any trouble, the warden is discussing with the custodial managers if they should change my life sentence" My Dad explained.

"Is this what happiness feels like?" I asked with a chuckle.

"I think so" My Dad replied while laughing along.

We said goodbye and hung up. I let out a sigh of relief as I hugged my phone. There are thousands of questions floating inside my head, trying to understand the logic and how this is my reality. There is no logic in why the custodial managers would change my Dad's life sentence since it is the worst sentence you can receive.

Maybe I shouldn't question the logic as much as I do right now. If they do, maybe they will change their mind and that is the last thing I want. I don't want them to take Dad away from me again. One time was already enough, I don't need a second time.

I walked inside the hospital, walking through the first-floor hallway until I reached my Mom's room. I knocked on the door before I walked in, seeing my Mom lying on her bed with a confused look on her face but a wide smile on her lips.

"Are you my daughter?" She asked.

"Yes Mom, it's me, your daughter Mai. Do you remember me?" I asked back as I sat down on the chair next to her.

"Of course, I remember my strong and beautiful daughter Mai" She answered as he took my hand.

My relationship with my Mom is complicated. It's not because I dislike her, in fact, it is because I love her so much. It's heartbreaking to listen to people my age complain about their parents while I would do anything to have what they have.

I'm grateful both of my parents are still alive, but I wish we could live together instead of suffering separately. My Dad says that I have inherited Mom's warrior mindset. The reason why I have been able to survive for this long is because of the warrior mindset Mom gave me. And my Mom wouldn't have survived for this long either if she didn't have her warrior mindset.

Spending time with my Mom helps me to drift away and set my chaotic brain on pause. Despite having my brain on pause, anxious can walk around. Sometimes I want to scream at the doctors and nurses who work at the hospital and blame them for tricking me. They say medicine will help her, therefore I have no other choice but to buy expensive medicine.

All the medicine does is slow down the process, helping Mom to stay strong and alive longer. Even if the medicine is not working as I would like, it's still better than nothing. I still have my Mom with me. She may not always remember I'm here, but that is okay.

My Mom sat up to spread out her arms, welcoming me to her embrace. Tears fell down from my eyes as I wrapped my arms around her, feeling warm and comforted as my Mom hugged my thigh and stroked my hair with her hand. Things like this are what people take for granted.