Silence, Part 3
part two
* * *
Hi Mimi...
Thanks for the links. I don’t know if I’m ready to look at them just yet, but it helps knowing they’re there. And thank you for being so understanding about things. It’s a bit easier to tell you stuff sometimes, I think. Though I’m still scared of how you might react, it’s easier to be able to just type something out and not have to actually see you when you find out.
So, my dad took me to the hospital the other morning. I felt too sick to eat breakfast, and I guess he got tired of it. They put an IV in me and gave me a bunch of nutrients. I was there for several hours. Now I have to take “nutritional supplements” every day, and my dad is making me eat at least a little bit three times a day. I also have pills to help me not throw up. But the first pill I took, I threw up.
I really don’t mean to. It’s just hard not to remember stuff that happened when I try to swallow any food or drink. It makes me sick... But of course my dad doesn’t know that. And I can’t bring myself to tell him yet.
Anyway, thanks for the offer to listen any time I need it. Tell me how things are going with you. I’ll reply when I can.
Yamato
* * *
His dad has talked to the school and arranged things. Half an hour before lunchtime Yamato is excused to the nurse’s office, where she gives him a pill and watches him swallow it down. He doesn’t immediately start throwing it back up, so she sends him back to class.
Taichi raises his eyebrows when he actually eats something at lunchtime. It isn’t much, just half a portion of plain rice with a few vegetables, but it’s more than Taichi’s seen him eat in the past couple of months.
“Dad made me go to the hospital,” he mumbles to Taichi’s unspoken question. “They gave me pills to help.”
“Is that where you went earlier?”
“Mhmm.”
“Well good. It’s really dangerous if you don’t eat. You can get really sick.”
He looks down at his empty bowl and doesn’t say anything. He wishes everyone would understand he doesn’t do it on purpose.
* * *
Tuesday morning he’s approached by Sayumi.
He’s still at the entrance to the school, placing his shoes in one of the boxes when she comes up next to him and asks to speak to him privately.
“Hi Yamato,” she says. “Can I speak to you alone for a minute?”
He hesitates. He doesn’t know her very well, though he knows of her. They aren’t in the same class, but she’s very popular in their year, and he knows many guys have a crush on her.
“Okay,” he eventually says, and they duck into a nearby alcove. Other students passing by look at them curiously.
“So, I was at your live a couple of months ago. You were great!” she gushes.
“Thanks,” he says, feeling uncomfortable. He doesn’t want to have to think about that night anymore.
“You’re such a good singer, you have a really amazing voice,” she continues, oblivious to his discomfort. He wonders if she’s trying to flirt with him. The thought makes his throat tighten.
“Are you going to have another one anytime soon?”
“Ah... no. Probably not.” Because even thinking about going to a practise makes him break out in a cold sweat.
“Aw, that’s such a shame!” she pouts. She is definitely trying to flirt with him. He feels ill.
“Well... maybe you could give me a private showing sometime?” she asks him. Her voice is coy and her smile suggestive.
His eyes widen. “I-I don’t think that’d be fair to the other fans,” he stammers inanely. This is turning into a nightmare. He wants to run away and be sick.
Her smile falters for a moment. “Perhaps I could give you a private showing instead,” she tries. “You can listen to some of my songs, maybe even use them if you like them.”
“I really don’t think so,” he says faintly.
Her smile disappears completely this time, turning into an unhappy frown. “Are you turning me down?” she demands.
His mouth is dry. His throat feels closed off. He doesn’t answer her.
“You can’t turn me down!” she screeches. Her voice is shrill. It hurts his ears. “No one ever turns me down! Any guy should be lucky to date me!”
Other students are looking. They stop in the hallway, watching the scene playing out before them. He wishes he could melt into the wall.
“You have to go out with me!” she insists. “I’m choosing you! You should feel honoured!”
Yamato simply shakes his head.
“How dare you!” she cries. She storms off.
He remains frozen in the alcove after she’s left, clutching tightly to his bag while people whisper around him. That familiar biting urge is gnawing at him again.
When the hallways clear up a bit, he slips into the nearest bathroom.
* * *
“So what’s this I’m hearing about you and Sayumi?”
He frowns, and looks at Taichi. “Nothing,” he mutters. He doesn’t want to talk about it.
“She asked you out?”
He pokes unhappily at his rice with a chopstick and doesn’t reply.
“I heard you turned her down. That true?” Taichi prods.
He just shrugs, and wishes Taichi would drop it.
“Tohru said that Kenta told her she made a scene when you wouldn’t agree to go out with her. That she screamed at you a bit.”
He slams his chopsticks down, upsetting his lunch tray. “Yes! Okay? I turned her down and she got mad and screamed at me a bit! Everything you’ve heard is probably true! Now shut up about it!”
Taichi stares at him in surprise, eyes a bit wide. “Sorry,” he says, voice coming out small.
Yamato sighs and closes his eyes. His arm is still stinging from this morning, but the gnawing is already back. He stands up, ignoring his spilled food.
“Where are you going?” Taichi asks, sounding hesitant.
“Bathroom.”
* * *
There’s red droplets all over the floor of the stall and red smears all over his arms.
He has nothing to bandage them with. He didn’t really think this through.
Sighing, he slips his knife back into his pocket and grabs some toilet paper. Wet paper towels would work better, but he isn’t going to risk going out of the stall where anyone can come in and see him.
When he’s cleaned up as much as possible, he heads back to the classroom. Lunch has already ended, and the teacher is not happy he’s late. He’s made to stand out in the hallway as punishment for thirty minutes.
Taichi doesn’t talk to him for the rest of the afternoon. He supposes he deserves it.
* * *
Ratsuii corners him the next day after school has ended.
“Ny’s about to kick you out of the band if you don’t show up for practise soon,” he says grimly.
Yamato stares at him despairingly, not sure what to say. He can’t go to practise right now, he just can’t. The band is a huge reminder of the events that turned his life into a wreck.
Ratsuii’s face softens some. “Look, it’s clear to all of us that something’s going on with you. Judging by the way Taichi and your other friends are always giving you worried looks, I’m guessing you haven’t told them either. Ny doesn’t really want to kick you out of the band, he just doesn’t know what else to do or what you’re thinking. Are you wanting to quit right now?”
He shakes his head mutely. He really doesn’t want to quit. He wants more than anything to go to practise, to sing his heart out, to indulge in a passion that has always made all his worries melt away in the past.
“Then talk to us. Tell us what’s going on. Tell us why you won’t go to practise.”
His chest is tight. His heart aches. He feels splintered. “I want to,” he says, and his voice cracks on the words.
“But?” Ratsuii prompts gently.
“I’m sorry,” he says helplessly. “Don’t kick me out.”
“Yamato...”
“I can’t!” he cries. “I just can’t right now! Okay? Please Ratz, please don’t let Ny kick me out! I’m sorry! Please!” His voice is rising insistently with every word, and Ratsuii’s staring at him with slightly wide-eyed concern, but though he’s starting to feel slightly hysterical he can’t seem to help himself. It’s been awhile since he’s shown this much emotion and it’s bubbling up in him, spilling over.
“I want to, I swear, but please don’t let him kick me out,” he begs again. “I really can’t right now.”
Ratsuii sighs. “I’ll talk to him,” he says, “but you’re going to have to talk to us and tell us what’s going on soon. We can’t be on a hiatus for the rest of our lives if we want the band to make it anywhere.”
* * *
Thursday he’s coming back from the bathroom during lunch when he’s cornered by Sayumi. They’re the only two students in the hallway, and before he has time to act she’s pushing him into the wall, pressing her body uncomfortably close up against his.
He freezes, mind flashing back to the weight, and the hands, and being pinned and unable to break free. He whimpers. “No-”
“Shh,” Sayumi whispers, and then she’s kissing him, her lips soft and warm against his.
His eyes widen and for a moment he remains frozen, and then he’s shoving her off of him without any real conscious thought, stumbling away down the hall. He doesn’t care where he goes, he just needs to get away from her. He feels in shock, unable to believe someone has yet again violated him against his will.
“Yamato, wait!” she calls after him.
He ignores her. He wants to be sick. Eventually he somehow makes it back to the bathroom, and once he’s inside he slides down against the wall to sit on the floor.
It doesn’t take long after that for the tears to start.
* * *
Taichi finds him half an hour later, face streaked and still sobbing uncontrollably. He halts in the doorway when he catches sight of him. “Yamato?”
He doesn’t respond to his best friend, or make any effort to calm down. He’s just so tired of everything. He doesn’t want to hurt anymore, or to remember, or to have little things constantly make him relive that Thursday night.
Taichi comes over to him, approaching carefully, before settling himself on the floor next to him. “I’ll listen if you want to talk,” he says softly.
Overall, Taichi’s been pretty understanding over the last few months since he’s changed. He’s withdrawn from everyone, rarely talks, shows little interest in anyone else’s lives, and yet Taichi still sticks by him. Sure, Taichi’s gotten frustrated with him a few times, but he’s always apologised, and Yamato knows he should deserve far worse.
He wants so badly to tell Taichi.
“I...”
“You what?”
He lets out another sob. No matter what, he can’t make the words come.
Beside him, Taichi sighs. “I think we’re way past the point of you needing to tell someone, Yamato. Please, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
He thinks about the email he’d sent Mimi, telling her what happened without actually telling her. He wonders if he can do the same with Taichi. He wonders if Taichi will be as understanding as Mimi.
He takes a deep breath, and then another, forcing himself to calm some. Gradually his sobs lessen, though his tears don’t stop. Taichi sits quietly beside him, patiently waiting, his form a solid and comforting presence.
He swallows. His stomach is full of lead. He feels sick. He wants his knife.
He hopes Taichi doesn’t hate him.
“The live,” he croaks out.
Taichi frowns briefly. “Your last one? A few months ago?”
He nods. Takes another deep breath. Clears his throat. “There was a party after. At Ny’s house...” He shudders, memories of that night once again assailing him.
Sitting with a large group of fans, flirting with girls and guys alike.
Someone shoving a drink in his hand. He doesn’t even think, he just downs it. And then the next one, and the next one.
One guy in particular paying plenty of attention to him, flirting like mad. He flirts back, liking the attention.
“Something happened at the party?” Taichi asks softly, breaking into his thoughts.
“Yeah.” He pulls his knees up towards his chest and wraps his arms around them, feeling cold. “I got drunk. It was an accident. Or, sort of. I knew I was drunk, I just didn’t realise how much so.” He wipes at his face, which is still being soaked from the tears he can’t seem to stop.
Taichi doesn’t say anything, waiting for whatever’s coming next.
“I went into the guest house to find the bathroom...” He pauses, and lets out a shaky breath. Even though he wants to tell Taichi, talking about the next part is hard, and he’s never had to say any of it out loud before.
“The only way to the bathroom is through the bedroom...” He stops again, feeling panic rise just from thinking about it. A few small sobs escape him. He shudders again.
“Yamato...”
The door to the boy's bathroom opens then, and he dimly registers their next teacher coming in, before halting upon spotting him much the same as Taichi had, but he doesn’t stop.
“I didn’t even realise,” he says, voice thick with tears. “I was too drunk, I didn’t realise! I heard the lock and I turned around and I still didn’t get it at first!” He’s getting hysterical, the words exploding out of him as he finally, finally tells Taichi about what happened that Thursday night, but Taichi doesn’t try to calm him. He simply listens.
“He forced me on to the bed and he puts one hand on my both my wrists, holding both of them above my head and I try to fight him but I’m so drunk I can’t figure out what’s going on.” He’s switched to present tense in his recollection, reliving the memories as they’re playing out in his head, but he doesn’t realise, too caught up in them.
Taichi’s looking faintly sick, probably getting an idea of what happened to him, but he still lets him talk, perhaps sensing his need to finally get his horrible secret out. Their teacher is also listening silently in the doorway, face solemn, and Yamato knows he’ll have to report it to someone, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to deal with this horrible secret on his own anymore.
“I try to fight him but I can’t and he puts his hands...” He falters, not able to say it out loud. “He starts trying to undo my jeans and then he’s got his fingers in my mouth and I bite down and he hits me in the head really hard and then I feel really disoriented...”
A few more sobs, and he continues on, unable to stop talking about it now that he’s started. “He’s in my mouth and he keeps banging my head against the headboard and it hurts and my hands are free but I’m too weak and confused to make him stop and then I’m choking and it tastes bad and I’m throwing up...”
“Yamato, oh my god...” Taichi’s voice is full of horror and pain, but Yamato doesn’t pay him any mind right now. He’s kept it inside for so long. He needs to talk. The words pour out of him in a rushed jumbled mess and he’s not even sure if Taichi can understand him through the crying but he doesn’t stop.
“I’m hoping he’s done but then he gets my jeans off and I try to fight him again but I’m useless and then it hurts so bad and I feel like I shut down because all I can do is stare at the lights on the ceiling and they’re so bright and eventually he’s gone but it still hurts and I’m bleeding and I get my jeans back on and crawl in the bathroom and throw up over and over... Ny finds me not long after and he thinks I’m just hung over so he helps me to bed in the main house and then I go home the next morning and shower and shower and don’t tell anybody... I can’t eat and I can’t sleep and I can’t stand the lights and I can’t stop thinking about it and I’m not fine! I'm not Taichi, I'm not!”
He stops then, finally, worn out now that his secret is out, and crying so hard he can’t see straight, shaking and hugging himself desperately.
“I know you're not fine, Yamato," Taichi soothes. "I've known you haven't been fine for months now. I’m really sorry that happened... I don’t even know what to say... It must have been so scary, and awful trying to deal with it by yourself afterwards.”
He just hugs himself tighter, too exhausted to say anything else. He feels drained, and his heart aches.
Their teacher finally steps a bit further into the room, approaching the two of them.
“Ishida-san...” he says softly, and Yamato looks up wearily, not bothering to swipe away any tears. “You know I’m going to have to report this so someone can alert your father, right?”
He just nods. If a teacher had to come in during his confession, he’s glad it was this one. The man has been his favourite teacher since the start of the school year.
“Yagami-san, please stay here and watch over him while I alert the office staff. Try to calm him down a bit more, because he’ll have to come down to the nurse's office shortly.”
“Yes sir,” Taichi says, and then they’re alone again.
They sit quietly for a bit, while Yamato cries himself out. After a bit Taichi sighs. “I really am sorry, Yamato... I wish that hadn’t happened to you.”
“Me too,” he chokes out.
“You haven’t told anyone before now?”
“...I told Mimi in an email a little while ago. She was nice about it. She sent me links to stuff. She said I should tell you.”
“I’ve been worried...”
“I know... I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Taichi told him firmly. “You needed to tell me when you were ready to. I understand that. I’m not mad at you. None of this is your fault.”
He doesn’t have an answer to that one.
* * *
His dad’s face is worried and slightly frantic when he steps into the nurse’s office. He looks around wildly until he spots Yamato huddled on one of the two beds, and then his face takes on a relieved look.
They haven’t told his dad yet why he’s here. The relieved look won’t last.
“Yamato?” his dad says, approaching him. “What’s going on, are you okay? Did you get sick?”
He’d managed to stop crying in the bathroom and clean his face some, but hearing his dad’s obvious concern for him causes the tears to threaten again. It’s going to break his dad’s heart to learn the truth of his horrible secret. He shakes his head.
“Mr. Ishida?” The principal approaches his dad. “Let’s go back in my office and talk for a minute.”
“Of course,” his dad replies, though Yamato can tell he’s still confused as to why he’s been called from work to come here.
He watches them leave the room with a heavy heart.
* * *
The grief in his dad’s face when he steps back into the room alone several minutes later makes him feel awful.
“I’m sorry,” he says, voice catching slightly.
“Yamato, no,” his dad says immediately, sounding pained. “You have nothing to apologise for. This isn’t your fault.”
“I was stupid, I got drunk,” he says. A few tears slip out and slide down his cheeks to gently drop onto his knees.
His dad comes over and sits down on the bed beside him. “That doesn’t give anyone the right to rape you.”
He flinches, not liking hearing the word out loud in connection with himself. “I couldn’t fight him off.”
His dad sighs wearily. “I know... Your teacher told me what you told Taichi.”
“I wanted to tell him for months now. I tried, I really did, I just couldn’t.”
“It’s okay,” his dad replies gently. “We know now. That’s what matters. We can get you some help.”
“Are you mad at me?” he asks in a small voice.
“Mad?” His dad looks at him in confusion. “What in the world would I have to be mad at you about?”
He shrugs.
“Look at me,” he says, and waits until Yamato does, meeting his eyes hesitantly. “I am not mad at you, for any reason. The only person I am mad at is the person who raped you.”
He flinches again, dropping his eyes. “What do we do now?”
“Right now we go home. You’ve been excused for the rest of the day, and the next day or two if you need it. Once we get home, it’s up to you. If you want to talk, I’ll listen. If you just want to sit with me, we can do that. If you need to be alone, I’ll give you some time. If you want to rest or sleep, that’s fine too.”
“What about after that?”
“We’ll have time to talk about that in the next couple of days. For now, let’s just get you home, okay?”
He nods.
* * *
He’s too tired to talk anymore once he gets home, so he doesn’t even try. Instead, his dad helps him to bed, because he can barely keep his head up. He’s so emotionally wrung out from the day that he doesn’t even protest when his dad helps him out of his school blazer. It’s not like his dad hasn’t seen the marks on his arms before.
Thankfully his dad doesn’t say anything about them, though he must have noticed the new marks from Tuesday and Wednesday.
When he’s in bed buried under the covers and the lights off, his dad wishes him a softly-spoken “sleep well” and pulls the door mostly shut. He’s asleep before his dad makes it all the way back down the hall.
* * *
When he next wakes, he’s surprised to realise it’s morning and that he slept through the night without any nightmares. He’s also surprised his dad let him sleep through dinner. His dad must have thought he really needed the sleep.
He stumbles out of bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and pulls on a plain-coloured long sleeved shirt. It’s past time for school to have started, so he’s obviously not going today.
When he walks into the kitchen, his dad’s at the stove, frowning over breakfast. His dad has been attempting to learn how to cook since the hospital ordered Yamato to eat three times a day. He’s had to rely on Yamato’s help a lot, but he actually is learning, which pleases Yamato.
He swallows down one of his pills without too much trouble for once, and then goes over to rescue his dad.
* * *
After breakfast they settle into the living room. His dad turns on the TV, but leaves off the lamp, for which Yamato is grateful. He stares mindlessly at whatever program his dad’s got playing, watching it but not really paying attention.
Eventually he speaks up. “You don’t have work?”
His dad lowers the volume and looks over at him. “No. I told them something had come up with you and I would need the next few days off.”
He swallows, feeling touched. His dad rarely ever takes time off of work. “Oh.”
He falls silent for awhile, and after a few moments his dad turns his attention back to the TV. Yamato can’t focus on it. His mind is full of images. Of the live, and the party. Of being surrounded by fans flirting with him.
Of the one guy in particular. Yamato recognises him from past lives, past parties. He’s constantly flirting with him, smiling at him, finding reasons to casually touch him and let them linger just long enough. Yamato likes it. The guy has brilliant green eyes, and he feels mesmerised by them.
He likes them a lot less when those eyes are staring piercingly into his face while his weight pins Yamato into the bed, hurting him.
He shudders. “I knew him,” he says softly.
His dad mutes the TV, shifting slightly to face him again. “Who?”
“The guy who hurt me... I knew him.” He swallows hard. “I don’t know his name, but he’s gone to most of the band’s lives.”
“That’s where this happened?”
He lifts a shoulder briefly, lets it drop. “Our last live. At the party Ny held afterwards. I was with a group of fans. He kept flirting with me.”
“I’m sorry, Yamato.”
He doesn’t like the sorrow in his dad’s voice. He doesn’t like hurting his dad in any way. “It’s hard to eat because it-it reminds me. Of what he did. That’s why I throw up a lot. I’m sorry.”
His dad shakes his head slowly. “Don’t be sorry... you have nothing to be sorry for. None of this is your fault.”
He shivers and wraps his arms around his too-thin frame. Everyone has told him that what happened to him is not his fault... but he can’t help but feeling like it was. If he hadn’t gotten drunk, if he had tried harder to fight, or had thought to scream for help maybe... He sighs.
Even though he’s fallen quiet again, his dad doesn’t go back to the TV, instead watching him for a bit, clearly worried. He doesn’t know what he can say that would be reassuring. He’s not okay right now, and his dad knows it. He remembers the email Mimi had sent him, with the links he’d never looked at.
Abruptly, he stands. “I’m gonna be in my room for a bit,” he says. He doesn’t wait for a response, just heads out of the room, through the kitchen, and down the hall. He doesn’t look back, but he can feel his dad’s eyes on him, following him until he’s out of sight.
* * *
He spends an hour looking through all of the sites Mimi had sent him, reading through all of the information. There’s a lot to take in. Many of the sites tell him not to blame himself. He’s not sure he believes them anymore than he believes his friends and family.
They also say the way he’s been acting the past few months is normal. He finds that equally hard to believe. He doesn’t feel normal.
Once he’s looked through as many sites as he can handle at the moment, he goes back to his web board. He’s still been using it fairly regularly, keeping people updated with the things going on in his life and making friends with some of the people there. He talks to Alex almost daily.
Despite that, he still hasn’t told anyone there what happened to him.
He loads up his thread and clicks the button to add a new post to it.
* * *
So... it’s finally out.
Yesterday the girl who tried to ask me out before approached me in the hall during lunch time and kissed me. She didn’t ask, didn’t say anything, just pushed me against the wall and held me there and kissed me.
I froze up at first, but after a moment I pushed her away and ran to the restroom. I sat on the floor crying until my best friend came in and found me. He told me that he’d listen if I wanted to talk. I kept thinking about how badly I wanted to tell him, and how you guys here have been encouraging me, and how I told my friend who lives in another country through an email and she didn’t react badly...
I wasn’t able to say the words directly but I started talking. Part of the way through, before I’d really gotten in to it, my teacher came in. He was probably just looking for me and my best friend, since we weren’t in class like we should have been, but he stopped and listened. I knew he was, and I knew he’d have to report it to the school who would tell my dad, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to keep it a secret. Not anymore.
I was crying the whole time I talked. It was really hard to talk about it at first, but once I started, it felt like I couldn’t stop, and I had to keep talking until I’d said everything. My best friend sounded both horrified and sad... My teacher didn’t say much, but when he told me he’d have to report it, he sounded very serious and he also seemed a bit sad. He’s my favourite teacher, he’s always been very nice to me.
Eventually they took me to the nurse’s office, told me they’d called my dad, asked if it had happened on school grounds and if I needed anything... I just shook my head and waited until my dad came. He didn’t know what was going on at first but the principal took him away and told him and when he came back he looked almost like he was grieving... it hurt me to see my dad so hurt. We talked a tiny bit and then he took me home and I went to bed and slept until this morning.
So I’ve mentioned before that I’m in a band with three other guys... We’re on an indie label right now and still trying to gain popularity. We put on lives sometimes and usually our “leader” of the band throws a party afterwards at his house. His parents are pretty rich and they have a large yard with a small guest house and that’s where the parties are held.
A few months ago, we had a live and our usual party afterwards. I was with a group of fans that were all flirting with me, girls and guys, and I got drunk. More than I meant to. There was a guy that was flirting with me more than the others, and I flirted back because I just liked the attention.
I got up to find the bathroom and he followed me. Only I didn’t realise it until I was in the house, in the bedroom and he was locking the door behind me. Even after he pinned me to the bed, I didn’t realise what he intended to do until he touched me and tried to take my jeans off.
I tried to fight him off, but I was really drunk. And when I bit down on his fingers after he shoved them in my mouth, he hit me really hard in the head and things felt weird after that.
I’ve never been able to say this word before, aloud, online or in my head. But... that Thursday night, he... he raped me. It hurt, really badly. Once he left I pulled my jeans back on and went into the bathroom to throw up. My bandmate found me and thought I was just hung over. He took me into his main house and gave me a room for the night. I went home the next morning and showered and didn’t tell anyone and blanked it out for three days. Then hearing the word on the news made it come back. But I was too ashamed to tell anyone then, and then I kept getting worse and worse and I wanted to tell my best friend but didn’t know how to by then.
But now he knows, and my dad too...
I don’t know what’s next for me. I hope that they can help me, and that one day eventually things can start getting better. But we’ll see.
And don’t worry, I’ll still keep you guys updated. So many of you have helped me a lot, and been so nice and encouraging even when you have your own struggles and problems to deal with. I really appreciate all of you.
* * *
He posts his message and then shuts the computer down, not wanting to stick around and wait for replies. His stomach flutters nervously, knowing that he’s posted the truth for everyone there finally. And that he actually said the word.
Or at least typed it. He’s not sure if he’s able to say it out loud yet.
He glances at his partially open door nervously. He can hear the television blaring from the living room, so his dad probably can’t hear him. He doesn’t know if he wants to say it.
He feels like he should.
Taking a deep breath, he steels himself. “I...”
Like every time before, the words catch. He’s not ready. Saying it out loud makes it too real somehow.
“I’m fine,” he whispers instead. He wishes he could believe it.
* * *
Lunch comes and goes. He eats very little. His dad frowns, but doesn’t push it.
After, his dad remains seated at the kitchen table and reads the newspaper. He stays as well, idly tracing the grains in the wood with his finger.
There had been one other thing all of the sites he’d looked through had mentioned: the best chance of being able to heal and move on was through therapy, whether with an individual therapist or going to group therapy with others who’d been through similar experiences.
Mimi had sent him a link for a group therapy, for boys ages 12-18 that had been... had been through stuff like him. The page said he wouldn’t be forced to talk. He could just go and listen and if he felt like talking, then he was welcome to.
Perhaps most surprising had been the name listed at the bottom of the page to contact for more information... It had been his teacher’s name, the one who’d found him and Taichi yesterday. His teacher who had apparently been a licensed therapist for ten years before switching over to mostly teaching, according to the small blurb on the site.
He doesn’t know if therapy will help him or not. He doesn’t know if he can sit in a circle of strangers, telling them about the most horrible thing that ever happened to him. He doesn’t know if he can listen to their equally horrible tales, commiserating and offering support.
However, he does know one thing.
He’s not okay.
“Dad?”
“Hmm?” His dad lowers the paper and looks over at him.
He licks suddenly dry lips. “I’m not fine.”
His dad looks sad at the reminder. “I know, Yamato... I knew that since the very first weekend. I just didn’t know why.”
“There’s... there’s a group. Mimi sent me the link. I want to go.”
* * *
“Are you going to be okay?”
He shrugs. He doesn’t answer. He’s afraid if he opens his mouth, he’ll throw up. He feels incredibly nervous, and he can’t stop second-guessing himself.
He’d contacted his teacher once he’d gone back to school, seeking him out in his office at the end of the day.
“I’d like to join your group,” he’d said, and understanding had lit his teacher’s eyes immediately.
He’d gone home with a sheaf of papers and a head full of how things worked, and his dad had helped him sort everything out.
He looks at the small office building before him. It’s very nondescript. Right now that suits him just fine. Anyone who might ever see him entering or leaving would never guess why he’s here.
“Yamato?” his dad persists.
He swallows the lump in his throat and speaks. “I’ll be fine.”
“Okay. I’ll be back in an hour to pick you up, alright?”
He nods, and then opens the door and slides out of the car. He waves to his dad as he pulls away, and then takes a deep breath and goes in the building.
After getting directions from a receptionist, he easily finds the correct room. His teacher is already there, along with five other boys so far. A couple look to be about his age, the others younger. They’re all seated in chairs arranged in a loose circle, chatting softly amongst themselves.
His teacher looks up when he enters and smiles. “Welcome!” he says. “Glad you could join us!”
He’s trembling, ever so slightly. He doesn’t know if he can do this. He doesn’t know if he can ever talk about it. He’s spent the last two weeks before his first meeting trying to say the truth out loud. He still can’t get further than “I.”
He grabs one of the folded up seats against the wall and carries it over to the circle. The two boys his age shift their chairs to make room in between them.
“Hi, I’m Kousuke,” one of them says to him, smiling warmly.
“I’m Daichi!” the other boy offers with a grin.
“Yamato,” he says. His face feels flushed. He hopes he doesn’t get sick.
“Nervous?” Kousuke asks knowingly. “Don’t worry, the first meeting is always the hardest. Because you don’t know what to expect. It’ll get easier.”
“Yeah,” Daichi chimes in. “You may think now that you’ll never be able to talk in front of all these strangers, but trust me, you’ll be talking before you know it, and you’ll already find yourself wanting to before you even do.”
Yamato gives them a sickly sort of smile, but doesn’t answer. They both grin at him this time, having a pretty good idea of how he’s feeling right now.
Once three more boys come in, his teacher claps his hands for attention. “Okay, we’re all here, so let’s get started. We’ve got two new boys with us today. Please introduce yourselves and, if you’d like, tell us anything you’d think we’d want or need to know.” He nods to Yamato first.
He looks around the circle at the faces of the boys. Eight other boys. Boys like him, who were just teenagers, boys who’d likely once been innocent and happy before something awful shattered them enough to seek therapy just to piece themselves back together.
They’ll understand. They won’t hate him, or blame him, or think he’s disgusting or weak or worthless. They’ll get it, because they’ve all felt the same way.
He can do this.
He straightens up in his seat. Takes a breath. Speaks. “Hi. I’m Yamato. I’m 16. I’m here because about three and a half months ago, at a party after my band’s live, I was raped.”
He’s finally said it. It’s as real as it ever will be. He was high on adrenaline and flush with alcohol that Thursday night and he was raped. It happened. There’s no taking it back or pretending it wasn’t real. He was raped and it’s been the worst thing he’s ever had happen, but he survived. He’s here now.
He’s not fine, but for the first time, he thinks he eventually might be.
end
* * *
Hi Mimi...
Thanks for the links. I don’t know if I’m ready to look at them just yet, but it helps knowing they’re there. And thank you for being so understanding about things. It’s a bit easier to tell you stuff sometimes, I think. Though I’m still scared of how you might react, it’s easier to be able to just type something out and not have to actually see you when you find out.
So, my dad took me to the hospital the other morning. I felt too sick to eat breakfast, and I guess he got tired of it. They put an IV in me and gave me a bunch of nutrients. I was there for several hours. Now I have to take “nutritional supplements” every day, and my dad is making me eat at least a little bit three times a day. I also have pills to help me not throw up. But the first pill I took, I threw up.
I really don’t mean to. It’s just hard not to remember stuff that happened when I try to swallow any food or drink. It makes me sick... But of course my dad doesn’t know that. And I can’t bring myself to tell him yet.
Anyway, thanks for the offer to listen any time I need it. Tell me how things are going with you. I’ll reply when I can.
Yamato
* * *
His dad has talked to the school and arranged things. Half an hour before lunchtime Yamato is excused to the nurse’s office, where she gives him a pill and watches him swallow it down. He doesn’t immediately start throwing it back up, so she sends him back to class.
Taichi raises his eyebrows when he actually eats something at lunchtime. It isn’t much, just half a portion of plain rice with a few vegetables, but it’s more than Taichi’s seen him eat in the past couple of months.
“Dad made me go to the hospital,” he mumbles to Taichi’s unspoken question. “They gave me pills to help.”
“Is that where you went earlier?”
“Mhmm.”
“Well good. It’s really dangerous if you don’t eat. You can get really sick.”
He looks down at his empty bowl and doesn’t say anything. He wishes everyone would understand he doesn’t do it on purpose.
* * *
Tuesday morning he’s approached by Sayumi.
He’s still at the entrance to the school, placing his shoes in one of the boxes when she comes up next to him and asks to speak to him privately.
“Hi Yamato,” she says. “Can I speak to you alone for a minute?”
He hesitates. He doesn’t know her very well, though he knows of her. They aren’t in the same class, but she’s very popular in their year, and he knows many guys have a crush on her.
“Okay,” he eventually says, and they duck into a nearby alcove. Other students passing by look at them curiously.
“So, I was at your live a couple of months ago. You were great!” she gushes.
“Thanks,” he says, feeling uncomfortable. He doesn’t want to have to think about that night anymore.
“You’re such a good singer, you have a really amazing voice,” she continues, oblivious to his discomfort. He wonders if she’s trying to flirt with him. The thought makes his throat tighten.
“Are you going to have another one anytime soon?”
“Ah... no. Probably not.” Because even thinking about going to a practise makes him break out in a cold sweat.
“Aw, that’s such a shame!” she pouts. She is definitely trying to flirt with him. He feels ill.
“Well... maybe you could give me a private showing sometime?” she asks him. Her voice is coy and her smile suggestive.
His eyes widen. “I-I don’t think that’d be fair to the other fans,” he stammers inanely. This is turning into a nightmare. He wants to run away and be sick.
Her smile falters for a moment. “Perhaps I could give you a private showing instead,” she tries. “You can listen to some of my songs, maybe even use them if you like them.”
“I really don’t think so,” he says faintly.
Her smile disappears completely this time, turning into an unhappy frown. “Are you turning me down?” she demands.
His mouth is dry. His throat feels closed off. He doesn’t answer her.
“You can’t turn me down!” she screeches. Her voice is shrill. It hurts his ears. “No one ever turns me down! Any guy should be lucky to date me!”
Other students are looking. They stop in the hallway, watching the scene playing out before them. He wishes he could melt into the wall.
“You have to go out with me!” she insists. “I’m choosing you! You should feel honoured!”
Yamato simply shakes his head.
“How dare you!” she cries. She storms off.
He remains frozen in the alcove after she’s left, clutching tightly to his bag while people whisper around him. That familiar biting urge is gnawing at him again.
When the hallways clear up a bit, he slips into the nearest bathroom.
* * *
“So what’s this I’m hearing about you and Sayumi?”
He frowns, and looks at Taichi. “Nothing,” he mutters. He doesn’t want to talk about it.
“She asked you out?”
He pokes unhappily at his rice with a chopstick and doesn’t reply.
“I heard you turned her down. That true?” Taichi prods.
He just shrugs, and wishes Taichi would drop it.
“Tohru said that Kenta told her she made a scene when you wouldn’t agree to go out with her. That she screamed at you a bit.”
He slams his chopsticks down, upsetting his lunch tray. “Yes! Okay? I turned her down and she got mad and screamed at me a bit! Everything you’ve heard is probably true! Now shut up about it!”
Taichi stares at him in surprise, eyes a bit wide. “Sorry,” he says, voice coming out small.
Yamato sighs and closes his eyes. His arm is still stinging from this morning, but the gnawing is already back. He stands up, ignoring his spilled food.
“Where are you going?” Taichi asks, sounding hesitant.
“Bathroom.”
* * *
There’s red droplets all over the floor of the stall and red smears all over his arms.
He has nothing to bandage them with. He didn’t really think this through.
Sighing, he slips his knife back into his pocket and grabs some toilet paper. Wet paper towels would work better, but he isn’t going to risk going out of the stall where anyone can come in and see him.
When he’s cleaned up as much as possible, he heads back to the classroom. Lunch has already ended, and the teacher is not happy he’s late. He’s made to stand out in the hallway as punishment for thirty minutes.
Taichi doesn’t talk to him for the rest of the afternoon. He supposes he deserves it.
* * *
Ratsuii corners him the next day after school has ended.
“Ny’s about to kick you out of the band if you don’t show up for practise soon,” he says grimly.
Yamato stares at him despairingly, not sure what to say. He can’t go to practise right now, he just can’t. The band is a huge reminder of the events that turned his life into a wreck.
Ratsuii’s face softens some. “Look, it’s clear to all of us that something’s going on with you. Judging by the way Taichi and your other friends are always giving you worried looks, I’m guessing you haven’t told them either. Ny doesn’t really want to kick you out of the band, he just doesn’t know what else to do or what you’re thinking. Are you wanting to quit right now?”
He shakes his head mutely. He really doesn’t want to quit. He wants more than anything to go to practise, to sing his heart out, to indulge in a passion that has always made all his worries melt away in the past.
“Then talk to us. Tell us what’s going on. Tell us why you won’t go to practise.”
His chest is tight. His heart aches. He feels splintered. “I want to,” he says, and his voice cracks on the words.
“But?” Ratsuii prompts gently.
“I’m sorry,” he says helplessly. “Don’t kick me out.”
“Yamato...”
“I can’t!” he cries. “I just can’t right now! Okay? Please Ratz, please don’t let Ny kick me out! I’m sorry! Please!” His voice is rising insistently with every word, and Ratsuii’s staring at him with slightly wide-eyed concern, but though he’s starting to feel slightly hysterical he can’t seem to help himself. It’s been awhile since he’s shown this much emotion and it’s bubbling up in him, spilling over.
“I want to, I swear, but please don’t let him kick me out,” he begs again. “I really can’t right now.”
Ratsuii sighs. “I’ll talk to him,” he says, “but you’re going to have to talk to us and tell us what’s going on soon. We can’t be on a hiatus for the rest of our lives if we want the band to make it anywhere.”
* * *
Thursday he’s coming back from the bathroom during lunch when he’s cornered by Sayumi. They’re the only two students in the hallway, and before he has time to act she’s pushing him into the wall, pressing her body uncomfortably close up against his.
He freezes, mind flashing back to the weight, and the hands, and being pinned and unable to break free. He whimpers. “No-”
“Shh,” Sayumi whispers, and then she’s kissing him, her lips soft and warm against his.
His eyes widen and for a moment he remains frozen, and then he’s shoving her off of him without any real conscious thought, stumbling away down the hall. He doesn’t care where he goes, he just needs to get away from her. He feels in shock, unable to believe someone has yet again violated him against his will.
“Yamato, wait!” she calls after him.
He ignores her. He wants to be sick. Eventually he somehow makes it back to the bathroom, and once he’s inside he slides down against the wall to sit on the floor.
It doesn’t take long after that for the tears to start.
* * *
Taichi finds him half an hour later, face streaked and still sobbing uncontrollably. He halts in the doorway when he catches sight of him. “Yamato?”
He doesn’t respond to his best friend, or make any effort to calm down. He’s just so tired of everything. He doesn’t want to hurt anymore, or to remember, or to have little things constantly make him relive that Thursday night.
Taichi comes over to him, approaching carefully, before settling himself on the floor next to him. “I’ll listen if you want to talk,” he says softly.
Overall, Taichi’s been pretty understanding over the last few months since he’s changed. He’s withdrawn from everyone, rarely talks, shows little interest in anyone else’s lives, and yet Taichi still sticks by him. Sure, Taichi’s gotten frustrated with him a few times, but he’s always apologised, and Yamato knows he should deserve far worse.
He wants so badly to tell Taichi.
“I...”
“You what?”
He lets out another sob. No matter what, he can’t make the words come.
Beside him, Taichi sighs. “I think we’re way past the point of you needing to tell someone, Yamato. Please, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
He thinks about the email he’d sent Mimi, telling her what happened without actually telling her. He wonders if he can do the same with Taichi. He wonders if Taichi will be as understanding as Mimi.
He takes a deep breath, and then another, forcing himself to calm some. Gradually his sobs lessen, though his tears don’t stop. Taichi sits quietly beside him, patiently waiting, his form a solid and comforting presence.
He swallows. His stomach is full of lead. He feels sick. He wants his knife.
He hopes Taichi doesn’t hate him.
“The live,” he croaks out.
Taichi frowns briefly. “Your last one? A few months ago?”
He nods. Takes another deep breath. Clears his throat. “There was a party after. At Ny’s house...” He shudders, memories of that night once again assailing him.
Sitting with a large group of fans, flirting with girls and guys alike.
Someone shoving a drink in his hand. He doesn’t even think, he just downs it. And then the next one, and the next one.
One guy in particular paying plenty of attention to him, flirting like mad. He flirts back, liking the attention.
“Something happened at the party?” Taichi asks softly, breaking into his thoughts.
“Yeah.” He pulls his knees up towards his chest and wraps his arms around them, feeling cold. “I got drunk. It was an accident. Or, sort of. I knew I was drunk, I just didn’t realise how much so.” He wipes at his face, which is still being soaked from the tears he can’t seem to stop.
Taichi doesn’t say anything, waiting for whatever’s coming next.
“I went into the guest house to find the bathroom...” He pauses, and lets out a shaky breath. Even though he wants to tell Taichi, talking about the next part is hard, and he’s never had to say any of it out loud before.
“The only way to the bathroom is through the bedroom...” He stops again, feeling panic rise just from thinking about it. A few small sobs escape him. He shudders again.
“Yamato...”
The door to the boy's bathroom opens then, and he dimly registers their next teacher coming in, before halting upon spotting him much the same as Taichi had, but he doesn’t stop.
“I didn’t even realise,” he says, voice thick with tears. “I was too drunk, I didn’t realise! I heard the lock and I turned around and I still didn’t get it at first!” He’s getting hysterical, the words exploding out of him as he finally, finally tells Taichi about what happened that Thursday night, but Taichi doesn’t try to calm him. He simply listens.
“He forced me on to the bed and he puts one hand on my both my wrists, holding both of them above my head and I try to fight him but I’m so drunk I can’t figure out what’s going on.” He’s switched to present tense in his recollection, reliving the memories as they’re playing out in his head, but he doesn’t realise, too caught up in them.
Taichi’s looking faintly sick, probably getting an idea of what happened to him, but he still lets him talk, perhaps sensing his need to finally get his horrible secret out. Their teacher is also listening silently in the doorway, face solemn, and Yamato knows he’ll have to report it to someone, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to deal with this horrible secret on his own anymore.
“I try to fight him but I can’t and he puts his hands...” He falters, not able to say it out loud. “He starts trying to undo my jeans and then he’s got his fingers in my mouth and I bite down and he hits me in the head really hard and then I feel really disoriented...”
A few more sobs, and he continues on, unable to stop talking about it now that he’s started. “He’s in my mouth and he keeps banging my head against the headboard and it hurts and my hands are free but I’m too weak and confused to make him stop and then I’m choking and it tastes bad and I’m throwing up...”
“Yamato, oh my god...” Taichi’s voice is full of horror and pain, but Yamato doesn’t pay him any mind right now. He’s kept it inside for so long. He needs to talk. The words pour out of him in a rushed jumbled mess and he’s not even sure if Taichi can understand him through the crying but he doesn’t stop.
“I’m hoping he’s done but then he gets my jeans off and I try to fight him again but I’m useless and then it hurts so bad and I feel like I shut down because all I can do is stare at the lights on the ceiling and they’re so bright and eventually he’s gone but it still hurts and I’m bleeding and I get my jeans back on and crawl in the bathroom and throw up over and over... Ny finds me not long after and he thinks I’m just hung over so he helps me to bed in the main house and then I go home the next morning and shower and shower and don’t tell anybody... I can’t eat and I can’t sleep and I can’t stand the lights and I can’t stop thinking about it and I’m not fine! I'm not Taichi, I'm not!”
He stops then, finally, worn out now that his secret is out, and crying so hard he can’t see straight, shaking and hugging himself desperately.
“I know you're not fine, Yamato," Taichi soothes. "I've known you haven't been fine for months now. I’m really sorry that happened... I don’t even know what to say... It must have been so scary, and awful trying to deal with it by yourself afterwards.”
He just hugs himself tighter, too exhausted to say anything else. He feels drained, and his heart aches.
Their teacher finally steps a bit further into the room, approaching the two of them.
“Ishida-san...” he says softly, and Yamato looks up wearily, not bothering to swipe away any tears. “You know I’m going to have to report this so someone can alert your father, right?”
He just nods. If a teacher had to come in during his confession, he’s glad it was this one. The man has been his favourite teacher since the start of the school year.
“Yagami-san, please stay here and watch over him while I alert the office staff. Try to calm him down a bit more, because he’ll have to come down to the nurse's office shortly.”
“Yes sir,” Taichi says, and then they’re alone again.
They sit quietly for a bit, while Yamato cries himself out. After a bit Taichi sighs. “I really am sorry, Yamato... I wish that hadn’t happened to you.”
“Me too,” he chokes out.
“You haven’t told anyone before now?”
“...I told Mimi in an email a little while ago. She was nice about it. She sent me links to stuff. She said I should tell you.”
“I’ve been worried...”
“I know... I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Taichi told him firmly. “You needed to tell me when you were ready to. I understand that. I’m not mad at you. None of this is your fault.”
He doesn’t have an answer to that one.
* * *
His dad’s face is worried and slightly frantic when he steps into the nurse’s office. He looks around wildly until he spots Yamato huddled on one of the two beds, and then his face takes on a relieved look.
They haven’t told his dad yet why he’s here. The relieved look won’t last.
“Yamato?” his dad says, approaching him. “What’s going on, are you okay? Did you get sick?”
He’d managed to stop crying in the bathroom and clean his face some, but hearing his dad’s obvious concern for him causes the tears to threaten again. It’s going to break his dad’s heart to learn the truth of his horrible secret. He shakes his head.
“Mr. Ishida?” The principal approaches his dad. “Let’s go back in my office and talk for a minute.”
“Of course,” his dad replies, though Yamato can tell he’s still confused as to why he’s been called from work to come here.
He watches them leave the room with a heavy heart.
* * *
The grief in his dad’s face when he steps back into the room alone several minutes later makes him feel awful.
“I’m sorry,” he says, voice catching slightly.
“Yamato, no,” his dad says immediately, sounding pained. “You have nothing to apologise for. This isn’t your fault.”
“I was stupid, I got drunk,” he says. A few tears slip out and slide down his cheeks to gently drop onto his knees.
His dad comes over and sits down on the bed beside him. “That doesn’t give anyone the right to rape you.”
He flinches, not liking hearing the word out loud in connection with himself. “I couldn’t fight him off.”
His dad sighs wearily. “I know... Your teacher told me what you told Taichi.”
“I wanted to tell him for months now. I tried, I really did, I just couldn’t.”
“It’s okay,” his dad replies gently. “We know now. That’s what matters. We can get you some help.”
“Are you mad at me?” he asks in a small voice.
“Mad?” His dad looks at him in confusion. “What in the world would I have to be mad at you about?”
He shrugs.
“Look at me,” he says, and waits until Yamato does, meeting his eyes hesitantly. “I am not mad at you, for any reason. The only person I am mad at is the person who raped you.”
He flinches again, dropping his eyes. “What do we do now?”
“Right now we go home. You’ve been excused for the rest of the day, and the next day or two if you need it. Once we get home, it’s up to you. If you want to talk, I’ll listen. If you just want to sit with me, we can do that. If you need to be alone, I’ll give you some time. If you want to rest or sleep, that’s fine too.”
“What about after that?”
“We’ll have time to talk about that in the next couple of days. For now, let’s just get you home, okay?”
He nods.
* * *
He’s too tired to talk anymore once he gets home, so he doesn’t even try. Instead, his dad helps him to bed, because he can barely keep his head up. He’s so emotionally wrung out from the day that he doesn’t even protest when his dad helps him out of his school blazer. It’s not like his dad hasn’t seen the marks on his arms before.
Thankfully his dad doesn’t say anything about them, though he must have noticed the new marks from Tuesday and Wednesday.
When he’s in bed buried under the covers and the lights off, his dad wishes him a softly-spoken “sleep well” and pulls the door mostly shut. He’s asleep before his dad makes it all the way back down the hall.
* * *
When he next wakes, he’s surprised to realise it’s morning and that he slept through the night without any nightmares. He’s also surprised his dad let him sleep through dinner. His dad must have thought he really needed the sleep.
He stumbles out of bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and pulls on a plain-coloured long sleeved shirt. It’s past time for school to have started, so he’s obviously not going today.
When he walks into the kitchen, his dad’s at the stove, frowning over breakfast. His dad has been attempting to learn how to cook since the hospital ordered Yamato to eat three times a day. He’s had to rely on Yamato’s help a lot, but he actually is learning, which pleases Yamato.
He swallows down one of his pills without too much trouble for once, and then goes over to rescue his dad.
* * *
After breakfast they settle into the living room. His dad turns on the TV, but leaves off the lamp, for which Yamato is grateful. He stares mindlessly at whatever program his dad’s got playing, watching it but not really paying attention.
Eventually he speaks up. “You don’t have work?”
His dad lowers the volume and looks over at him. “No. I told them something had come up with you and I would need the next few days off.”
He swallows, feeling touched. His dad rarely ever takes time off of work. “Oh.”
He falls silent for awhile, and after a few moments his dad turns his attention back to the TV. Yamato can’t focus on it. His mind is full of images. Of the live, and the party. Of being surrounded by fans flirting with him.
Of the one guy in particular. Yamato recognises him from past lives, past parties. He’s constantly flirting with him, smiling at him, finding reasons to casually touch him and let them linger just long enough. Yamato likes it. The guy has brilliant green eyes, and he feels mesmerised by them.
He likes them a lot less when those eyes are staring piercingly into his face while his weight pins Yamato into the bed, hurting him.
He shudders. “I knew him,” he says softly.
His dad mutes the TV, shifting slightly to face him again. “Who?”
“The guy who hurt me... I knew him.” He swallows hard. “I don’t know his name, but he’s gone to most of the band’s lives.”
“That’s where this happened?”
He lifts a shoulder briefly, lets it drop. “Our last live. At the party Ny held afterwards. I was with a group of fans. He kept flirting with me.”
“I’m sorry, Yamato.”
He doesn’t like the sorrow in his dad’s voice. He doesn’t like hurting his dad in any way. “It’s hard to eat because it-it reminds me. Of what he did. That’s why I throw up a lot. I’m sorry.”
His dad shakes his head slowly. “Don’t be sorry... you have nothing to be sorry for. None of this is your fault.”
He shivers and wraps his arms around his too-thin frame. Everyone has told him that what happened to him is not his fault... but he can’t help but feeling like it was. If he hadn’t gotten drunk, if he had tried harder to fight, or had thought to scream for help maybe... He sighs.
Even though he’s fallen quiet again, his dad doesn’t go back to the TV, instead watching him for a bit, clearly worried. He doesn’t know what he can say that would be reassuring. He’s not okay right now, and his dad knows it. He remembers the email Mimi had sent him, with the links he’d never looked at.
Abruptly, he stands. “I’m gonna be in my room for a bit,” he says. He doesn’t wait for a response, just heads out of the room, through the kitchen, and down the hall. He doesn’t look back, but he can feel his dad’s eyes on him, following him until he’s out of sight.
* * *
He spends an hour looking through all of the sites Mimi had sent him, reading through all of the information. There’s a lot to take in. Many of the sites tell him not to blame himself. He’s not sure he believes them anymore than he believes his friends and family.
They also say the way he’s been acting the past few months is normal. He finds that equally hard to believe. He doesn’t feel normal.
Once he’s looked through as many sites as he can handle at the moment, he goes back to his web board. He’s still been using it fairly regularly, keeping people updated with the things going on in his life and making friends with some of the people there. He talks to Alex almost daily.
Despite that, he still hasn’t told anyone there what happened to him.
He loads up his thread and clicks the button to add a new post to it.
* * *
So... it’s finally out.
Yesterday the girl who tried to ask me out before approached me in the hall during lunch time and kissed me. She didn’t ask, didn’t say anything, just pushed me against the wall and held me there and kissed me.
I froze up at first, but after a moment I pushed her away and ran to the restroom. I sat on the floor crying until my best friend came in and found me. He told me that he’d listen if I wanted to talk. I kept thinking about how badly I wanted to tell him, and how you guys here have been encouraging me, and how I told my friend who lives in another country through an email and she didn’t react badly...
I wasn’t able to say the words directly but I started talking. Part of the way through, before I’d really gotten in to it, my teacher came in. He was probably just looking for me and my best friend, since we weren’t in class like we should have been, but he stopped and listened. I knew he was, and I knew he’d have to report it to the school who would tell my dad, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to keep it a secret. Not anymore.
I was crying the whole time I talked. It was really hard to talk about it at first, but once I started, it felt like I couldn’t stop, and I had to keep talking until I’d said everything. My best friend sounded both horrified and sad... My teacher didn’t say much, but when he told me he’d have to report it, he sounded very serious and he also seemed a bit sad. He’s my favourite teacher, he’s always been very nice to me.
Eventually they took me to the nurse’s office, told me they’d called my dad, asked if it had happened on school grounds and if I needed anything... I just shook my head and waited until my dad came. He didn’t know what was going on at first but the principal took him away and told him and when he came back he looked almost like he was grieving... it hurt me to see my dad so hurt. We talked a tiny bit and then he took me home and I went to bed and slept until this morning.
So I’ve mentioned before that I’m in a band with three other guys... We’re on an indie label right now and still trying to gain popularity. We put on lives sometimes and usually our “leader” of the band throws a party afterwards at his house. His parents are pretty rich and they have a large yard with a small guest house and that’s where the parties are held.
A few months ago, we had a live and our usual party afterwards. I was with a group of fans that were all flirting with me, girls and guys, and I got drunk. More than I meant to. There was a guy that was flirting with me more than the others, and I flirted back because I just liked the attention.
I got up to find the bathroom and he followed me. Only I didn’t realise it until I was in the house, in the bedroom and he was locking the door behind me. Even after he pinned me to the bed, I didn’t realise what he intended to do until he touched me and tried to take my jeans off.
I tried to fight him off, but I was really drunk. And when I bit down on his fingers after he shoved them in my mouth, he hit me really hard in the head and things felt weird after that.
I’ve never been able to say this word before, aloud, online or in my head. But... that Thursday night, he... he raped me. It hurt, really badly. Once he left I pulled my jeans back on and went into the bathroom to throw up. My bandmate found me and thought I was just hung over. He took me into his main house and gave me a room for the night. I went home the next morning and showered and didn’t tell anyone and blanked it out for three days. Then hearing the word on the news made it come back. But I was too ashamed to tell anyone then, and then I kept getting worse and worse and I wanted to tell my best friend but didn’t know how to by then.
But now he knows, and my dad too...
I don’t know what’s next for me. I hope that they can help me, and that one day eventually things can start getting better. But we’ll see.
And don’t worry, I’ll still keep you guys updated. So many of you have helped me a lot, and been so nice and encouraging even when you have your own struggles and problems to deal with. I really appreciate all of you.
* * *
He posts his message and then shuts the computer down, not wanting to stick around and wait for replies. His stomach flutters nervously, knowing that he’s posted the truth for everyone there finally. And that he actually said the word.
Or at least typed it. He’s not sure if he’s able to say it out loud yet.
He glances at his partially open door nervously. He can hear the television blaring from the living room, so his dad probably can’t hear him. He doesn’t know if he wants to say it.
He feels like he should.
Taking a deep breath, he steels himself. “I...”
Like every time before, the words catch. He’s not ready. Saying it out loud makes it too real somehow.
“I’m fine,” he whispers instead. He wishes he could believe it.
* * *
Lunch comes and goes. He eats very little. His dad frowns, but doesn’t push it.
After, his dad remains seated at the kitchen table and reads the newspaper. He stays as well, idly tracing the grains in the wood with his finger.
There had been one other thing all of the sites he’d looked through had mentioned: the best chance of being able to heal and move on was through therapy, whether with an individual therapist or going to group therapy with others who’d been through similar experiences.
Mimi had sent him a link for a group therapy, for boys ages 12-18 that had been... had been through stuff like him. The page said he wouldn’t be forced to talk. He could just go and listen and if he felt like talking, then he was welcome to.
Perhaps most surprising had been the name listed at the bottom of the page to contact for more information... It had been his teacher’s name, the one who’d found him and Taichi yesterday. His teacher who had apparently been a licensed therapist for ten years before switching over to mostly teaching, according to the small blurb on the site.
He doesn’t know if therapy will help him or not. He doesn’t know if he can sit in a circle of strangers, telling them about the most horrible thing that ever happened to him. He doesn’t know if he can listen to their equally horrible tales, commiserating and offering support.
However, he does know one thing.
He’s not okay.
“Dad?”
“Hmm?” His dad lowers the paper and looks over at him.
He licks suddenly dry lips. “I’m not fine.”
His dad looks sad at the reminder. “I know, Yamato... I knew that since the very first weekend. I just didn’t know why.”
“There’s... there’s a group. Mimi sent me the link. I want to go.”
* * *
“Are you going to be okay?”
He shrugs. He doesn’t answer. He’s afraid if he opens his mouth, he’ll throw up. He feels incredibly nervous, and he can’t stop second-guessing himself.
He’d contacted his teacher once he’d gone back to school, seeking him out in his office at the end of the day.
“I’d like to join your group,” he’d said, and understanding had lit his teacher’s eyes immediately.
He’d gone home with a sheaf of papers and a head full of how things worked, and his dad had helped him sort everything out.
He looks at the small office building before him. It’s very nondescript. Right now that suits him just fine. Anyone who might ever see him entering or leaving would never guess why he’s here.
“Yamato?” his dad persists.
He swallows the lump in his throat and speaks. “I’ll be fine.”
“Okay. I’ll be back in an hour to pick you up, alright?”
He nods, and then opens the door and slides out of the car. He waves to his dad as he pulls away, and then takes a deep breath and goes in the building.
After getting directions from a receptionist, he easily finds the correct room. His teacher is already there, along with five other boys so far. A couple look to be about his age, the others younger. They’re all seated in chairs arranged in a loose circle, chatting softly amongst themselves.
His teacher looks up when he enters and smiles. “Welcome!” he says. “Glad you could join us!”
He’s trembling, ever so slightly. He doesn’t know if he can do this. He doesn’t know if he can ever talk about it. He’s spent the last two weeks before his first meeting trying to say the truth out loud. He still can’t get further than “I.”
He grabs one of the folded up seats against the wall and carries it over to the circle. The two boys his age shift their chairs to make room in between them.
“Hi, I’m Kousuke,” one of them says to him, smiling warmly.
“I’m Daichi!” the other boy offers with a grin.
“Yamato,” he says. His face feels flushed. He hopes he doesn’t get sick.
“Nervous?” Kousuke asks knowingly. “Don’t worry, the first meeting is always the hardest. Because you don’t know what to expect. It’ll get easier.”
“Yeah,” Daichi chimes in. “You may think now that you’ll never be able to talk in front of all these strangers, but trust me, you’ll be talking before you know it, and you’ll already find yourself wanting to before you even do.”
Yamato gives them a sickly sort of smile, but doesn’t answer. They both grin at him this time, having a pretty good idea of how he’s feeling right now.
Once three more boys come in, his teacher claps his hands for attention. “Okay, we’re all here, so let’s get started. We’ve got two new boys with us today. Please introduce yourselves and, if you’d like, tell us anything you’d think we’d want or need to know.” He nods to Yamato first.
He looks around the circle at the faces of the boys. Eight other boys. Boys like him, who were just teenagers, boys who’d likely once been innocent and happy before something awful shattered them enough to seek therapy just to piece themselves back together.
They’ll understand. They won’t hate him, or blame him, or think he’s disgusting or weak or worthless. They’ll get it, because they’ve all felt the same way.
He can do this.
He straightens up in his seat. Takes a breath. Speaks. “Hi. I’m Yamato. I’m 16. I’m here because about three and a half months ago, at a party after my band’s live, I was raped.”
He’s finally said it. It’s as real as it ever will be. He was high on adrenaline and flush with alcohol that Thursday night and he was raped. It happened. There’s no taking it back or pretending it wasn’t real. He was raped and it’s been the worst thing he’s ever had happen, but he survived. He’s here now.
He’s not fine, but for the first time, he thinks he eventually might be.
end