Reuploaded... again. Sorry, it makes me cringe when I look at a chapter and I see things that should be changed.
The two had sat in silence, waiting for their counterpart to falter. Neither quite have the time for this blast of teenage rebellion, though neither can come to deny it.
In this fight, we all may hope for the hero to win, but reason begs to differ.
"Father," Fuyumi breaks the silence, the activist in a two person war. She sits up in her chair, the plush cushioning her all too securely, curling around her legs and trapping her in place.
"Fuyumi," her father replies. "What may bring you into my office?" His features say nothing, but his face a story that lies in the spider webbing lines painting his fading complexion, a mosaic of stress and the weight of the world etched in pigmented skin. It is a story of graying hairs and weakening bones, popping veins and buckling knees.
"You know what," she growls.
"I can't say I do," he replies, eyes flicking to trivial things scattering his desk.
She slams her fist on the wood. "How can you do something like, like thisto your own son! It's cruel, and viscous. It's inhuman!"
"Fuyumi," Yoshio purrs, unaffected by her rambling stupor. "You haven't changed a bit... you've always been one to throw a tantrum. You used to be… untamable."
"You can't throw him out like this," Fuyumi narrows her eyes, far graduated from the batting eyelashes and sickeningly sweet smiles she'd used to win people over throughout her childhood.
"It's for his own good," Yoshio simply replies, as if there is nothing more to such a thick subject.
"Howcould this possibly be for good, for anykind of good! You're sending your son to the street. Kyoya did nothing wrong, and yet... yet..."
"Fuyumi, my sons have no knowledge of reality. How am I to hand over a company to someone dependent on me—on the money I make and the food I provide? Allof them suffer. And there is only hope for one. Kyoya."
"You're punishing him for—"
"I am unsure where his abilities lie. Is it his money, or his mind? I know he is brilliant, he surpasses his brothers in many ways, but he lacks in experience. His life has been revolved on one goal and one goal only, and I am questioning his ability to translate himself into many situations, not only ones of mindless facts and science, of fiscal problems and analyzed facts.
"People, he needs to know people. To relate instead of understand, to know the weight of money and how it will flow from people's wallet's, and most of all he must know control. Control is far from restraint, and as of now he knows neither to any great length," the man lets out a wheezing cough, covering his mouth with a shaking hand.
"Irrational, that's the word for you! He's seventeen! How is he to know restraint? Or control? Or the difference? He's changing so much, you know how drastically puberty affects boys..."
"We change many times in our lives, Fuyumi. This change just happens to be hormonal, and one very important one. If he cannot grow from it, he has no business running a company. The matter is settled, and come Sunday, he is not welcome in this house."