Chapter 27

Having a mother like Inari meant that Izumi's childhood was never normal and one would say void of any kindness or any mercy. Not knowing a mother's love nor a father's protection, and void of any familial emotions, Izumi grew up surrounded by darkness. Her strand of light was minimal; they were lit up by her friends, Kelly, Liam and Natsu but losing both meant that her only light was left with Natsu.

Relying on Natsu the most, Izumi tried to go about her day as normally as she knows how to.

Her heart had closed, to protect itself from more pain, and what it does is block any emotion from filling her up, effectively emptying her of any feeling that would bring her weakness. She knew that her emotions were fleeting, and they come and go very easily. She knew it, and she felt helpless despite wanting to feel more, like she once did before her darkest days.

Having a mother like that, Izumi struggled very hard to keep afloat despite the darkness always wanting to pull her deeper into the depths of the water. She knew at an early age that school and studying was the utmost important, and that she swore that she would never become like Inari.

Izumi knew, and she learned the hard way.

Despite not wanting to be called mother, Inari gave her pocket money and made sure she got enrolled in school. It was something that Izumi was grateful for, the only thing that she'll thank her for and Izumi made sure that she attended school, and ace her tests so she could excel in life.

It was a tough thing to do, balancing school and getting into fights with Natsu. She was still Izumi after all, the other neighborhood kids knew of the pair and were always raring to fight them to prove to the others that they were tough too. Natsu was never one to run away from a challenge, and Izumi always found herself stepping into the fight to support Natsu.

They were a pair, like peas in a pod, and always getting into trouble.

They both got their first tattoo together, a matching piece that cost them a bomb but they were triumphant nonetheless as they enshrined a story on their skin.

A story that means the world to them.

 …

It was blissful. There was some calm sitting on the roof of a building, with only your thoughts accompanying you and the occasional breeze lifting your clothes, giving you breathy kisses down your face. I liked being alone, by the roof. I wasn't sitting on the bench, but seated cross-legged on the floor facing the fences so I had a pleasant view of the soccer field below. I happened to catch sight of the third years, as they were busy playing a game below.

I was skipping class, by the way.

I felt the need to clear my mind so I could have better control of my emotions. I needed to release the negativity trapped inside. Hearing shouts below perked me up, and I peeked down seeing Hajime-san and his other friends coming into the field. My interest peaked as I watched them take positions on the field and they started playing soccer. 

Ever since the game started, there was a crowd of spectators just by the edge of the field and it was steadily growing. I'd like to note that most of them were girls and they were cheering for him quite substantially.

Sitting there and witnessing the mass of girls interested in him made me realize just how popular Hajime-san was, and I understood the reason behind the girls' petty bullying. I understood it, and it hurts.

A bark of laughter and I pulled out a cigarette to smoke. I didn't leave the roof, I merely stayed there to watch him play and interact from afar. I wanted to know him without him knowing I was there. I wanted to see what he was like. While I was busy puffing away, and he finally left the field as it was lunchtime, I stubbed the cigarette and threw it, trying to wave the smoke away from me. I needed to get back to class to get my bento and I didn't want to smell like cigarette smoke.

Just a few minutes later, I got a call from him.

"Hey, Izumi! Want to go eat lunch together? I packed food with me today."

"Yeah, sure."

"Want to eat by the garden?"

I paused. A different place today. "Okay."

"See you there!"

Despite my brooding mood, I tried to enjoy the lunch as it was difficult not to. I didn't want to waste my lunch either since Setagawa-san had put his effort into making this. As soon as I reached there, I was joined by the third-year boys, and I had to admit their laughter was infectious. Soon enough, I felt light and happy, feeling myself laughing and smiling more.

Now, they were joking about a random topic, and they burst out laughing like maniacs, crowing with glee. They hit each other, shouting and exclaiming over the other. It was hilarious to watch. Every time I was with them, there was never a quiet moment and I enjoyed being in their presence.

It was nice to belong.

 …

I am brooding, I know and I cannot stop the frown from furrowing my brows as I look down at my smartphone. Somehow or another, my biological father, Takahashi Makoto has acquired my personal number and has been texting me whenever he is free. It irked me beyond belief, and I dared not answer his messages the moment he started messaging.

I did not understand his actions.

Locking my phone, I pocketed it angrily and went about my way. I was hanging by the wall next to the vending machine, sipping on a hot chocolate drink when I felt my phone vibrating inside my pocket again. I took it out thinking it might be a phone call, but it turned out to be a message from an unknown number.

It was from him again.

Please reply.

- Dad.

The way he ended his message unnerved me.

I sucked in a sharp breath as my hands shook in fury. How dare he command me like that? Who does he think he is? I had told him specifically that I didn't want him to meddle in my life, and I was fine with how things were. I don't have any desire to have him acknowledge himself as my father, and this merry thing called family will never happen!

Angrily, I replied to him.

Don't message me. And you're not my dad.

Throwing the can away, I headed back upstairs and into the classroom. His sudden message angered me, and the anger stayed in my chest for hours. Every time I calmed down, my mind began to conjure up his message again and I got furious all over again. This pattern kept repeating for a few weeks.

This time, the bastard has gotten to messaging me every few hours which I never replied to and I got to muting his messages instead. My temper stayed constant, and thanks to that, I was getting into fights often.

Hajime-san found me by the playground sporting bruises and wounds on my face and body. He had called me and messaged me earlier when his practice was over, but I didn't reply or call him back so he got worried, and went around to find me instead of heading back home. He managed to find me while I was daydreaming seated on a swing set.

"There you are, Izumi!" he exclaimed, which scared me. "What were you doing? Why didn't you answer your phone?"

"Hajime-san," I said in dumbfounded shock and promptly hid my hands. "What are you doing here?"

My reaction was too slow, he saw me hiding my hands from him and grew livid. He burst his top. I was taken aback at his rage, and in a fit of anger, he hauled me back to his home to get patched up since his place was close by.

His house was a modest two-story white building with warm brown gates. The front yard was half-covered with a beautiful garden and there were some playthings scattered around.

I was dragged into the house, clumsily taking off my shoes one-handed as he pulled me into his living room where he made me sit down on the sofa so he could go and take the first-aid kit from somewhere.

The living room was brightly lit, with warm curtains and a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. There were decorations, and picture frames of the family scattered around the shelving. Most of them were of Hajime-san and his kid brother, some were taken during vacation while others were taken during his matches, or competitions that they had participated in.

It was a lovely house.

While I was busy minding my own business, soft footfalls interrupted my inner monologue and I turned around to see the young boy, Kotaro-kun making his way towards me excitedly. I knelt down, opening my arms out for a hug and he threw himself at me, squeezing me tightly to him, laughing slightly.

I was taken aback by his vicious hug. "Hey there, Kotaro-kun," I greeted cheerily.

"Nii-chan finally brought nee-chan back home!" he declared happily as he nuzzled his head against my neck before resting it there. "Nee-chan, welcome home!"

The words couldn't form in my tongue to reply to the little boy and they got stuck in my throat painfully. That was the first time in my life someone had said that to me, and I didn't know if I should be happy, but I knew that I wanted to cry.

"Kotaro, don't disturb her."

"I was not!"

"Come here."

Immediately, Kotaro-kun released me and headed towards Hajime-san who was holding onto the first-aid kit. They spoke for a little while (which I couldn't hear) before Kotaro-kun ran away cheering happily, probably heading back up to his room. Hajime-san and I went to sit on the sofa, facing each other as he began to administer my wounds.

"Did something happen?"

My eyes had been staring down at his hands, seeing the wiry digits making satisfactory progress in patching me up and marveling at how nice they looked when he asked the question. Surprised, I turned red with embarrassment and kept my head down so he wouldn't see how bright red I was.

"Nothing."

"Then, why were you in a fight?"

"I felt like it."

"What're you talking about?" he asked flatly. "Why on earth would you feel like getting into a fight?"

I said nothing.

"Is there no other way to channel your anger?" he asked gently. "Is fighting the only answer?"

"What do you suggest?" I asked, raising a pierced eyebrow at him.

He looked thoughtful for a moment, his lips curling up. "Maybe you should go for anger management classes," he suggested.

I held his hands, a slight smile playing on my lips as I looked at him. "I'm lucky that you are thinking about me," I said gently. "But it's not as simple as that, Hajime-san. Going for anger management classes may not be the answer to my troubles."

"Then, maybe you can let them out by confiding in me," he proposed.

I gave him a curious look, which he returned by giving me a wide, innocent smile. He saw the chance, and he took it. What a scheming boy. I think he had been meaning to say that for a long time.

I was nervous, I didn't want to be rejected but as we stared at each other, I knew that I could trust him with my fears and my troubles. I could share with him my past, and my pain. Will he be like Natsu? Will he be able to accept the horrors of my past? Can he understand the darkness in one's heart?

Taking a deep breath, I let them out slowly and released my hands from holding onto his own. Slowly, I pulled down the black long-sleeved shirt I was wearing to reveal my wrist to him. My heart was hammering away, I was terrified beyond my life, but I steeled myself to show him a part of me that I had been hiding from everyone.

I showed him the scars on my right wrist, the zigzag lines that crossed the skin, and one long ugly scar that lay prominent over the rest of the lines. I watched his eyes carefully, nervous and terrified of his reaction. I held my breath and prayed to God that this man would be able to accept the horror that rests on my skin.

His fingers lay on my wrist gingerly, before tracing them across the skin. His sea-green eyes looked curious, as he touched and felt the scars beneath his fingertips. Nervous, I began to chew my lip ring as he traced the largest scar as slowly and gingerly as he possibly could. I think he was being gentle as he was crossing unknown territory and I knew he didn't want to upset me.

"It has been 209 days since the last time," I prompted quietly.

"I don't know what I should say," he admitted. "I am afraid I might say the wrong thing."

"You don't need to say anything," I said as I pulled the sleeve back up. "All I want is for you to understand what this means."

"What about your left wrist?" he asked. "Are both –"

"No," I interrupted gently and flashed him a grin as I pulled down the sleeve on my left wrist to show him the skin. "They're clean here."

His eyes widened in surprise as he noticed the artwork beneath the sleeve and they seemed to splash elegantly across my skin. I had a range of watercolor tattoos spanning across the appendage, in a way to remind myself during my darkest days that I am not as damaged as I would like to think.

"Wow, so the rumors are half right," he said with a cheeky grin.

"I bet they are," I said.

"Izumi, thank you for this," he said quietly, as he held my face. "I will try my best to understand, and I won't leave you even during the dark times. You have my word."

My heart hurt, I couldn't deny that but seeing his sea-green eyes smoldering into shades of blue and swirling into gold flecks, I felt myself sinking deeper till the pain in my chest was temporarily forgotten. I could feel myself growing enchanted in his beauty – and I wonder if I were to die, I want to be this happy but I know it's impossible.

I gave him a small smile and pulled his hands off my face. Honestly, I didn't want to tell him that I couldn't believe his words. I know that actions speak louder than words, but it is not easy to understand a person's troubles or thoughts when you don't experience them yourself.

"Hajime-san, I –"

"I'm home!"

His reaction was immediate. He pulled his hands off me and shot up from the chair as if he was electrocuted. I was taken aback by his sudden reaction and watched him amble his way towards the door. It seems that his mother has returned home from work, and I bet he has not informed her about my arrival.

I remained seated, as I listened to him explaining to his mother that he had brought a girl home and got up when they arrived in the living room. She was taken aback upon seeing me, I didn't blame her. I had the whole package on me; lip ring, snakebite, double piercings on my right eyebrow, multiple piercings on one ear, bandages on the neck, and hands, and bandaids all over my face.

"Mum, she's Amari Izumi and –"

"Oh, she's the one who found Kotaro, right?" she interrupted swiftly and headed towards me, before grabbing my hand for a handshake. "Thank you for the other night! We were so worried when Kotaro wasn't around in the house, and we almost got the police involved. We are indebted to you."

"It's no problem, Nishigawa-san," I murmured weakly.

She laughed and held my shoulders. "I like you!" she declared suddenly. "Stay for dinner! I'm going to cook up a storm!"

With that, she left me standing there gaping and went to the kitchen. I was not expecting his mother to be that kind of person, and honestly, I had never met someone as explosive and surprising as her. Hajime-san appeared in front of me a few minutes later, looking sheepish as ever as he apologized for his mother's attitude.

"No, it's fine," I said.

He smiled.

"I like her."