Severance
Title: Severance (one-shot)
Author: stupeur
Editor: mtembo
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Nine-year-old Miya and his mom confront each other about a decision of hers.
Notes: Obviously no romantic pairing here, sorry :P I got the idea from an interview in which Miya talks about his childhood, and also was considerably inspired by the song Danzetsu, after which this story is titled (both translations are available here). The names are from the Tsuuzetsu CD thanks (although I might be reading the kanji wrong, so take it with a grain of salt... and they might not even be his parents, but how many Yaguchis would Miya realistically feel the need to thank?). To avoid any confusion, Masaaki = Miya, since he obviously did not go by his handle yet. Now that all is said, enjoy! ;)
"I'm home."
Hisako glanced over her shoulder to see her youngest son kicking off his shoes and throwing his bag in a corner of the living room. Masaaki headed straight for the fridge, hair messy, the jacket of his school uniform opened to reveal a T-shirt that Hisako had no recollection of buying. As he passed her by, he mumbled under his breath, "Shit, I'm hungry," for, she was convinced, the express purpose of upsetting her. Just this once, however, she let him get away with it.
After putting down the kitchen knife on the cutting board and rinsing her hands, Hisako sat at the table and looked at the boy as he stood with his back to her. He had opened the door of the fridge and was now leaning against it nonchalantly, browsing through the items. When he scratched the back of his head, Hisako noticed some sort of bruise on his knuckle. A long sigh escaped her chest. It was only a matter of time before the school principal phoned again.
"Honey, would you sit down for a minute?"
Obviously expecting to be scolded, Masaaki turned around to cast a long, calculating look at her from above the door of the fridge. He had symmetrical, finely chiseled features: high cheekbones, a well-formed nose and a small, pouty mouth - but most striking of all were his eyes. They were thin and dark, veiled by a graveness uncommon to most nine year olds, eyes that held so much and yet remained impenetrable - eyes that could make your heartbeat stop.
The perfect replica of Isamu's.
Masaaki resigned himself with a sigh. He grabbed a package of cheese, closed the door of the fridge and sat down in front of his mother. Careful to avoid her eyes, he started folding a slice, tearing it into small squares. Hisako dreaded to know what was causing him to behave in such an obviously guilty fashion, but chose not to raise the issue yet. She instead reassured him that her request had nothing to do with his behavior, and only then did Masaaki dare speak.
"What is it then?" the boy asked, munching on a piece of cheese. His expression had softened, replaced by one of genuine curiosity.
"I'm going to get married," Hisako answered flatly.
A long silence followed. She watched stupor painting itself on her son's face before anger surged through all of his features. There was a loud thud when Masaaki's chair fell back and hit the kitchen floor. He was up on his feet, palms flat on the table, his chest heaving while he glared at her. His eyes, usually placid, were now burning furiously.
"You... you can't... That's... Mom, that's gotta be a joke! You can't do that!" he blurted out.
"I'm really sorry. I know I put you through a lot already, but it's best for all of us."
Despite the guilt of imposing yet another upset on her family, the unexpected fall from a double to a single income, the struggle of raising three children by herself and her own longing for a shoulder to lean on had made the proposal attractive. It was not so much a marriage of love as a marriage of convenience, but it seemed worth it, if only for the prospect of financial stability. Of course, Masaaki was still much too young to accept or even understand this.
"I don't care! I don't want him to replace my dad!"
"No one is going to take his place, honey."
"Don't baby talk me!" the boy ordered, stressing each word. "What about that bullshit you used to say? That dad would stay in your heart forever? What about that?!"
Hisako swallowed back her tears. "I'll love him no matter what."
Masaaki slammed his fists down on the table. "YOU LIAR!"
It felt like Hisako's hand had moved of its own accord. Masaaki stepped back, startled, a palm pressed on his left cheek. Hisako looked at him in disbelief, shocked by what had just happened.
"I... I-I'm sorry, honey... I didn't mean to..."
Masaaki sniffled as tears gleamed in his slanted eyes. For the first time in a long while, Hisako could see the child in him again. She had not realized how much he had grown - and how he had grown apart from her. He used to be a bright, lively kid, but he had spent the past two years in a world of his own, a world to which he stubbornly refused to give her the keys, and despite Hisako's efforts to keep her family from falling apart, she felt like it was ripping at the seams.
"I hate you..." he muttered, narrowing his eyes at her.
Hisako's voice choked in her throat at that. She stood there, unable to utter a word, arms hanging limp at her sides. It had to be her ears playing tricks on her... but Masaaki struck again, his voice biting and spiteful, his words like knives, this time impossible to mishear:
"I HATE YOU!"
Tears ran down his chin to drip on the collar of his uniform jacket, but Hisako merely caught a glimpse of them before he dashed out of the kitchen. Seconds later, the sound of the front door slamming shut echoed through the house. Still in a daze, Hisako could not tear her eyes away from the spot where her son had stood moments ago.
Already two years had passed since she had lost her best friend and husband, the man she loved, the father of her children - and yet, she had never grown accustomed to his absence. Every night, she still expected him to walk this very doorway, a tired smile on his face, Masaaki chattering happily by his side. But now, only Masaaki ever came back home - and to her, there could not be worse a curse, more cruel a fate than having him leave her behind too.
The sound of Hisako's weeping pierced the suffocating silence. Between sobs, she begged- her son, her late husband or God Himself, she could not even tell-, "Forgive me... Please forgive me..."
Author: stupeur
Editor: mtembo
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Nine-year-old Miya and his mom confront each other about a decision of hers.
Notes: Obviously no romantic pairing here, sorry :P I got the idea from an interview in which Miya talks about his childhood, and also was considerably inspired by the song Danzetsu, after which this story is titled (both translations are available here). The names are from the Tsuuzetsu CD thanks (although I might be reading the kanji wrong, so take it with a grain of salt... and they might not even be his parents, but how many Yaguchis would Miya realistically feel the need to thank?). To avoid any confusion, Masaaki = Miya, since he obviously did not go by his handle yet. Now that all is said, enjoy! ;)
"I'm home."
Hisako glanced over her shoulder to see her youngest son kicking off his shoes and throwing his bag in a corner of the living room. Masaaki headed straight for the fridge, hair messy, the jacket of his school uniform opened to reveal a T-shirt that Hisako had no recollection of buying. As he passed her by, he mumbled under his breath, "Shit, I'm hungry," for, she was convinced, the express purpose of upsetting her. Just this once, however, she let him get away with it.
After putting down the kitchen knife on the cutting board and rinsing her hands, Hisako sat at the table and looked at the boy as he stood with his back to her. He had opened the door of the fridge and was now leaning against it nonchalantly, browsing through the items. When he scratched the back of his head, Hisako noticed some sort of bruise on his knuckle. A long sigh escaped her chest. It was only a matter of time before the school principal phoned again.
"Honey, would you sit down for a minute?"
Obviously expecting to be scolded, Masaaki turned around to cast a long, calculating look at her from above the door of the fridge. He had symmetrical, finely chiseled features: high cheekbones, a well-formed nose and a small, pouty mouth - but most striking of all were his eyes. They were thin and dark, veiled by a graveness uncommon to most nine year olds, eyes that held so much and yet remained impenetrable - eyes that could make your heartbeat stop.
The perfect replica of Isamu's.
Masaaki resigned himself with a sigh. He grabbed a package of cheese, closed the door of the fridge and sat down in front of his mother. Careful to avoid her eyes, he started folding a slice, tearing it into small squares. Hisako dreaded to know what was causing him to behave in such an obviously guilty fashion, but chose not to raise the issue yet. She instead reassured him that her request had nothing to do with his behavior, and only then did Masaaki dare speak.
"What is it then?" the boy asked, munching on a piece of cheese. His expression had softened, replaced by one of genuine curiosity.
"I'm going to get married," Hisako answered flatly.
A long silence followed. She watched stupor painting itself on her son's face before anger surged through all of his features. There was a loud thud when Masaaki's chair fell back and hit the kitchen floor. He was up on his feet, palms flat on the table, his chest heaving while he glared at her. His eyes, usually placid, were now burning furiously.
"You... you can't... That's... Mom, that's gotta be a joke! You can't do that!" he blurted out.
"I'm really sorry. I know I put you through a lot already, but it's best for all of us."
Despite the guilt of imposing yet another upset on her family, the unexpected fall from a double to a single income, the struggle of raising three children by herself and her own longing for a shoulder to lean on had made the proposal attractive. It was not so much a marriage of love as a marriage of convenience, but it seemed worth it, if only for the prospect of financial stability. Of course, Masaaki was still much too young to accept or even understand this.
"I don't care! I don't want him to replace my dad!"
"No one is going to take his place, honey."
"Don't baby talk me!" the boy ordered, stressing each word. "What about that bullshit you used to say? That dad would stay in your heart forever? What about that?!"
Hisako swallowed back her tears. "I'll love him no matter what."
Masaaki slammed his fists down on the table. "YOU LIAR!"
It felt like Hisako's hand had moved of its own accord. Masaaki stepped back, startled, a palm pressed on his left cheek. Hisako looked at him in disbelief, shocked by what had just happened.
"I... I-I'm sorry, honey... I didn't mean to..."
Masaaki sniffled as tears gleamed in his slanted eyes. For the first time in a long while, Hisako could see the child in him again. She had not realized how much he had grown - and how he had grown apart from her. He used to be a bright, lively kid, but he had spent the past two years in a world of his own, a world to which he stubbornly refused to give her the keys, and despite Hisako's efforts to keep her family from falling apart, she felt like it was ripping at the seams.
"I hate you..." he muttered, narrowing his eyes at her.
Hisako's voice choked in her throat at that. She stood there, unable to utter a word, arms hanging limp at her sides. It had to be her ears playing tricks on her... but Masaaki struck again, his voice biting and spiteful, his words like knives, this time impossible to mishear:
"I HATE YOU!"
Tears ran down his chin to drip on the collar of his uniform jacket, but Hisako merely caught a glimpse of them before he dashed out of the kitchen. Seconds later, the sound of the front door slamming shut echoed through the house. Still in a daze, Hisako could not tear her eyes away from the spot where her son had stood moments ago.
Already two years had passed since she had lost her best friend and husband, the man she loved, the father of her children - and yet, she had never grown accustomed to his absence. Every night, she still expected him to walk this very doorway, a tired smile on his face, Masaaki chattering happily by his side. But now, only Masaaki ever came back home - and to her, there could not be worse a curse, more cruel a fate than having him leave her behind too.
The sound of Hisako's weeping pierced the suffocating silence. Between sobs, she begged- her son, her late husband or God Himself, she could not even tell-, "Forgive me... Please forgive me..."