Spirit - Bungo Stray Dogs Fanfiction - Atsushi Love Story - 1215

Episode 8

Luckily, my mother didn't call that day throughout work. I tried to forget about it, but I couldn't help but wonder all day if anyone - or everyone, could notice whether or not I was upset. I decided to try and forget about that too, and got to making my dinner.

I used mainly left overs, and whipped up some omelet rice. I sat down with a heavy sigh, eating alone was something I got used too. It wasn't any worse than eating at a table with an unreasonably angry mom, spitting out derogatory comments even after the lecture ended ten minutes ago.

After I left, I didn't have to force food I didn't want to eat because of a loss of appetite down my throat anymore.

My mother called me when I was doing the dishes. I had spent the entire night dreading this call, and now my stomach hurt. I sat down to take the call, and she seemed too calm.

Much too calm, when she told me that my father had been diagnosed with stage three cancer, and all they wanted was for me to visit. Since I was so busy with work, she said, I might not get a chance in the future.

How could this have happened?

I swallowed hard and told her I'd book some days off, and text her when I was on my way. I lowered my phone in my lap and tried to reason with my thoughts.

My father wasn't like my mom. He was nice, carefree, had several ADHD tendencies but was discrete about it enough that my mother could ever notice. He was active on his job, and loved physical activity. He ate well, drank well, he was a good person. How did he, out of all of us, end up sick with something as unfair as cancer?

Well, cancer doesn't know if you're deserving of it or not, does it?

I ran a hand through my hair, my stomach still hurt, and I dialed the presidents number next.

-

Two days later, I was on the train back to my house. The walk there was rather unsettling, there was maybe a little bit of bittersweet nostalgia, from the few memories that I liked to think about from time to time.

But when I left this house to live in the dorms closer to the ADA, I pushed it all to the back of my mind. I told myself I was free, I told myself I could start new. I didn't move so I could be independent, I already was, I had been for a long time. I wanted something... but even now, I still don't know what that is.

Now, my dad is sick. I left with a measly goodbye and never called. My father always just sat there and let my mother yell, or he was away working, but when my mother wasn't there he was a good, kind, and fun person to be around. His only child ignoring him because of his wife wasn't fair at all.

And that made me hate myself.

When I got to the house, I knocked lightly and waited to be let in instead of walking in uncalled for. When my mother opened the door, she smiled and told me I could have just walked in.

I smiled back and laughed it off, but the truth is is that this place didn't feel like my house anymore.

"Come and sit, I've got some snacks set out."

"I brought some stuff." I held up the bag, "It's not much, but it's some cookies dad likes. Where is he?"

"He's on his way home from work, he should be here soon."

I rose a brow, "He's... working?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't he be?"

"But he's sick."

She scoffed a laugh, "Ayame-chan, I just told you that so you'd come home."

My shoulders relaxed, and I took a breath. I licked my lips, and turned my eyes to the same old kitchen window I always used to stare out of when I was trying to zone out, wishing I could turn my ears off.

The calm didn't last. She sighed and took the bag of sweets, pulling out the cookies and putting them on the counter, nagging, "Come on, don't make that face. How else was I supposed to convince you to come? You're so stubborn, you always have been. You got a new phone and didn't bother to tell me. You never call."

"Mom." I began, trying to stay calm, "Do you understand how wrong that was?"

"What? What was wrong?"

"You told me dad was dying from cancer. That's not funny."

She rolled her eyes, just like she always used to when I started getting upset, "Relax. He even knows about it."

"I-I'm not going to relax! How could you do that?!" I snapped, throwing my hands out.

"How could you joke about something like that! I'm busy working, helping to save peoples lives everyday! I had to take unpaid time off to come see you and dad, and dad's not even here and you lied to me!"

"Okay- you know what?!" She snapped back, her temper rising like a boiling over pot, way too fast, and she threw the cup she was washing into the sink, smashing it, "You're the ungrateful daughter who never calls! I spent your whole life making your life magical, buying you things, letting you go on your school trip to Hawaii! And this is what I get?! I don't care what your job is! I'm your mother!"

I pursed my lips, "You never made my life magical."

"Oh, really? Really now?"

"And I paid for that school trip all on my own! All you gave me was some spending money!"

"Enough!" She screamed, and I told myself to leave.

I told myself to turn, and just walk out, because I didn't have to listen to this. I didn't have to do this anymore. And as she screamed and yelled and groaned and slammed things, and tossed the cookies back at me, hitting me in the shoulder, she told me to leave if I wanted to.

"Don't come back, since you hate it here so much!"

And then, after a few more comments, "You know what, I deserve an apology!"

Her voice cracking, as if she had any right to be upset after all she just spat at me while I stood here and took it, just like I always used to, in that magical life she was giving me.

I bent down and picked up the cookies. They were probably all crushed now.

"And now the cookies are ruined. Nice." She scoffed, and I just looked at the dented corner of the box.

Eventually, she calmed down and dad came home. I pretended like nothing happened for the sake of my father, and told him I accidently dropped the cookies on the way here.

My mother just glared at me, but I wondered if behind all that angry front she felt guilty when I said that.

My father told me it was no problem, smiling as he opened the box. He ate away and told me they were good, and we talked about what we'd been doing recently.

Due to confidentiality, I couldn't really say much on my part, but I spent a good two hours focusing my attention to him.

When I left, I forced myself to hug the both of them. I told them calling would be hard because of my job, and only my father said it'd be fine. He told me to live my life, and at that moment I wanted to cry.

How was I supposed to live my life when you didn't even want me to?

I stepped out of the house and on the porch, and gathered up every last bit of emotional energy I had left in me. I turned to look at them both,

"Love you."

"Love you too!" They said together, like nothing had happened when I first got here two hours ago.

Like nothing had happened last year when I had to move out because of the stress. Like nothing had happened all my childhood. Like they speak and then forget, and never think of it again, and I'm the only one that felt like I couldn't forget, suffocating.

I'm not sure, if I ever believed it when they told me they loved me. But what other choice did I have?