Warning, this chapter contains a bit of abuse
It's quite surprising how much of a heavy eater I can be when I have the delicacy of possessing the whole kitchen to myself--only when I have foolishly forgotten to pack my own bento box for school which is every single day. I have access to the limited amount of vegetables, rice and meats I keep in the cupboards and fridge, ones that I myself have been ordered to purchase, meaning that my possibilities are endless when it comes to making dinner for my mother--who normally comes home late--and myself.
I have some time before Tsukishima arrives with the study notes, and hopefully it won't take him long to pass them over and be on his way, so it is a perfect time to start by cooking up a suitable meal; I am self taught when it comes to food after my mother decided not to teach me more advanced dishes that don't involve the use of the microwave, but I can guarantee that I can stew up something that won't end in food poisoning. Something that is healthy and hopefully won't take long before both my two expected arrivals show up.
Ramen is always the first thing that comes to my mind when my stomach rumbles and it is a meal that I could cook up with my eyes closed, however I guess you could say that I make it the 'cheat' way as my method is rather quick and unprofessional. Boiling a stock on a large saucepan over a medium heat, I chop up some coriander stalks, accurately and finely, then I add it to the pan with only a few slices of red chilli as my taste for spice is not so eager; while all this is going on I have two skinless chicken breasts cooking on a separate pan next to it to save time. After that, I only add 200ml of water to the mix and wait for it to simmer for 10 minutes to let the vegetables infuse with the liquids. During the further two minutes, I repair the rest of the ingredients which, by choice, consists of mushrooms, baby pak choi and egg noodles which only need cutting and taking out of their packaging ready for use. Now, I just have some free time to take in the savoury smell that dances around the wooden kitchen and floods my submissive lungs. I could stand next the to cooker and intake these fumes all day, every day if I could.
"Seiren! Come to the door please!" This was an unexpected voice that made my small figure jump in shock; female, harsh and with a tinge of slight expected annoyance. It was my mother, she was early and I didn't even hear her walk through the door as I was clouded by my inner thoughts and the sound of the water heating up. Why is she yelling already? Did I forget to lock the door? Did I accidentally bring mud into the house? Did she trip on my school bag? All were possible accusations, but I don't remember doing any of that. With my heart still racing, I put on a brave smile for her arrival and walked to the sliding door.
"Coming!" I replied, sheepishly making my way to her in front of the open entrance door, an ominous light giving her a dark silhouette around her not-much-taller than my body.
My mother works as a normal company employee in one of the local food stores in Miyagi; uniform consisting of denim overall, a dress shirt and a pair of trousers or the occasional skirt. She commutes by train, taking a merely depressing 20 minutes there and back, always leaving a tired and irritated look to crawl across her face whenever we seem to talk. This doesn't help with the fact that she works every day, but with a 6 hour work time to make up for it and the moments she may lose on her possible days off. However, as she has explained, she takes time after stacking the shelves to socialise with her friends and possibly strangers to give her a level head and to balance home life and work. Incorporating all this means that I rarely get to see and or spend time with her as a normal independent family may do; not that I'm really complaining. Just knowing that she gets to spend time with people that make her happy and have a clear head gives me selfish satisfaction.
"Could you care to explain this?" My mother was holding something rather flimsy and thin in her right hand, overshadowed by her silhouette so I couldn't make out what it was. Her expression is cold and unamused, giving me the obvious conclusion that whatever it is mustn't be good or working in my favour. I prepared myself for the worst thinking about every possibility.
"Explain what?" I asked with an innocent tone, stepping closer to her and squinting my eyes at the mysterious object.
"Don't play dumb with me, Seiren--I'm tired of god's sake!" She exploded like an active volcano, slouching with the weight of her possible aching bones, but still managing to keep an intimidating stance over me. "Answer me: is this really your history test?"
I stupidly left the exam in my bag right next to the door. She must have been curious and looked through to find the one thing I wanted to keep away from her, especially in this state.
"Yes, but--
"But nothing!" My mother interrupted me instantly, not wanting to hear my pathetic as to why I failed so miserably on a 1st-year history test. "18!? Seriously!? It's like you don't even care about our future! Is this really how incapable you are?"
The work incapable sounds like something a certain blond giant called me; I guess it's becoming a reoccurring thing.
"Look, I can explain why I got so bad. Just let me--
"Didn't I tell you, Seiren?" Her dark brown hair swayed with passion, "I told you to at least try on this test to prove yourself to your teachers. I told you to get help with studying and get a tutor so we wouldn't be in this mess! Do you ever listen?"
"Yes, I know I tried, but he--
"Well, obviously it wasn't good enough. You are in high school now so start acting like it or we won't get anywhere."
Every word that came out of her venous mouth shot through me like poisonous darts, sinking into my skin and corrupting my blood with hatred. Her guilt-tripping and degrading were a cleaver trick is making me crumble at her feet, feeding me with all these negative thoughts and shaming me on my inevitable actions. Her plan to help me succeed to carry the weight of her failed attempt at life proved to turn downhill, not because of Tsukishima and his lack of generosity back then, but because of the high expectations of her own flesh and blood. She is relying on me to one day provide for our non-existing family, however, she is delusional to the fact that my future can be turned around with just a little push; and that push should be arriving any time soon now. Sure, I was positive that this history test had proved that I was hopeless in achieving my goals, but now, that one of the smartest people in the class will be helping me, my confidence has now overtaken my earlier sulking. I now have a chance to prove my mother wrong, if she would only just listen to me.
"In three years time, you'll be able to get a good job to help me get out of this situation, but how I that supposed to happen when you are producing these numbers, Seiren? This isn't like you to get such a low score." The manipulating was becoming more and more opaque as time moved forward.
"I can get better! This is just one test, I'm sure I can pass now! This guy finally wants to--
My mother decided to cut me off again with a scoff, "Is that what pushed you? Has got a bad grade pushed you to get some help more than your own mom asking you to?" She clenched the paper in undignified frustration. This is getting out of hand; some part of my brain wondered why she was getting so flustered at a mistake I made that I can now surely make right? Does she think that this yelling will push me to do better? To make me want to fight for her needs? This isn't the right tone she should be using, especially when it is a cry for help.
Remembering how I stood up to Tsukishima at school made me realise how much built-up anger I must have without even knowing. I sit in silence when it comes to my relative putting me in my place, but this time is different. I now understand that her quest isn't to see myself succeed as any respecting mother would do, but it is to live off my achievements to watch her own life improve to fulfil her own desires. Forgive me if I am wrong.
"This isn't about you." I squeaked, clenching my hands in tight fists in cringe at my own, weak voice and bowing my head so my expression couldn't be seen by her fiery gaze. "This is about me and my chance to get better: something that shouldn't be manipulated by you. I'm trying my best to care for this family all I can, but can't you act as you care about me personally?"
I stopped to catch my breath, watching my petite chest fall up and down in overwhelming satisfaction yet pure terror at what I had just done, but it feel unbelievably amazing. Every word came straight from the heart, meaning everything and more, causing me to feel emotional and unstable at the knees. It felt like I would cave in and drop to the ground like an unstable tent, tears swelling in my glossy, brown eyes, but never releasing. However, my tired and shocked state didn't matter, what mattered was the message that floated in the air for what seemed like a lifetime of waiting for my mother to respond; I didn't dare look her in the eye as I shifted my head from the floor. I feared that her devilish glance would finally send me over the edge.
My mother neared closer to me bit by bit until finally breaking my personal space, "Is this how you truly feel?"
I gulped the build-up in my front and stuttered a faint reply, "Yes."
Without hesitation or a small warning, my mother shifted her hand around her back, building up incredible tension and speed in her arm, and slapped me straight across the face with no reluctance or compassion whatsoever. The sound it made echoed through the house like vars smashing against the floor, piercing my ears almost instantly. It completely turned my small head in the other direction, swerving my body until my feet pointed in the location of the box tv in the corner of the lounge. The pain was overridden with shock; the stinging feeling couldn't amount to the pain I felt in my heart as it already bled from emotion. The crimson fire spreading along my cheeks burned and throbbed with heat at the physical touch, causing it to almost fall numb.
"After everything I do and you still don't see it. Try harder."
And with that, she removed herself from out of my bruised face, stomping to her room while leaving a burning trail behind her. Her wooden door slammed in anger, shaking the whole house while I stood still in disbelief and grieving turmoil.
The tears, I've head in my eyes since day one, couldn't be held back anymore as they cascaded down my face, acting as a chain reaction to my sores. Everything was shaking violently, to my hands, legs and hips as reality came crashing down on me all at once with brute force. My blurry vision came back again and it turned my eyesight into a slobbering mess as the light shining through the open door frame was the only thing my eyes focused on.
I was so overwhelmed by the current situation that I didn't even realise the tall, slim and well-built figure stood still and in pure shock at the edge of my wooden patio. He was like a statue facing towards my paralysed body, sweeping with second-hand guilt and sorrow at the helpless sight in front of him. The person, the most likely male, held what appeared to be various papers in his hand while a rather familiar uniform clung to his unknowing frame.
But then it hit me. It hit me worse than my mother's unthinking attempt at discipline. I know this boy. He has my email. He sits in front of me in class. And now, he now he has been a witness to one of my darkest moments.
Kei Tsukishima stood in a state of horror at the sight he had just seen and heard. He saw it all; every single last sadistic moment of it.