She stood stiffly behind the door in her room, listening to the heated shouts rising from the living room in waves that battered her broken spirit again and again. The only comfort she could find was in her memories, in remembering a better time. But nothing lasts. The girl's name was Yuka, the same as her mother. She had always resented that name, wanting only to become what her mother was not. They were much too different, and she cared little for reminders of the fact that their only commonality was in a name. Her mother was a businesswoman, strict and directly to the point. She cared little for the bonds of family and more for advancing in life and in her career. Yuka shook her head, wondering for what seemed to be the hundredth time what two people as different as her parents had ever seen in each other. Wondering how they had ever thought they could make it work. The arguing never ceased. Small issues would swell and swell until they threatened to wash her away like a wave which goes unseen until it crashes around you and carries you to your death. Yuka chided herself softly for her bitterness, for sounding so morbid, until she leaned in closer and began to fully comprehend the situation. This was no small issue. It seemed her mother had been offered a promotion, on the condition that she move to Japan to continue her work there. But that couldn't be right. They would never have to move to a completely different country, would they? No, she shook her head again. After all, her mother always got her way. The only way Yuka could make herself feel better was simply to convince herself that this wasn't what her mother really wanted. But no, fooling yourself never does you any good. She sighed, crossing over to her bed and sitting down. Yuka slumped over, laying her head in her hands to think. She knew her mother would win this argument, as well as she had won the others. She just couldn't imagine a life without her friends, her home, and perhaps this time she would be without her family as well. No, of course not. They would always be together. True, they had their differences, but they were a family, and nothing could break that. Still, she wished that she could stay in her home with her father. Then perhaps her mother would see reason. Yuka's face slowly crumpled, and she swung her feet onto the bed and curled up in a tiny ball. Her mother always expected so much of her.

Why can't she see that I'm just me, and not the person she wants me to be? Why am I never good enough? she replayed the thought over and over in her mind, hating herself for being so childish, for pitying herself. A lone tear slipped from her eyes and slid slowly down her cheek to fall unnoticed on the blankets. She lay there silently until she fell asleep.

Yuka woke early the next morning, and trudged blearily out to the kitchen for cereal, passing her parents room on the way down the hall. She glanced inside and saw her father standing inside stiffly facing the bed. She took another step, and it echoed through the silent house. Her father started, and spread his arms wide as if trying to hide something. Yuka leaned further inside, curious as to what he might be doing. He began to shuffle around something in front of him, just out of sight, shoulders shaking slightly.

"Dad? Is something wrong?" Yuka asked him, suddenly worried. She crossed the room to stand next to him, and froze suddenly at the sight of a suitcase and clothes strewn across the bed. He sighed and looked at her with such sadness it seemed his heart would break.

"Dad... Dad, why do you have a suitcase?" she whispered.

"Sweetie...I'm... so sorry... but I have to leave," his voice shook as it threatened to break.

"Why? Where are you going? You'll be right back, right? ...Dad? Dad!" he said nothing, still gazing at her sadly. "No... you can't leave me alone! Why are you doing this!" she screamed, eyes wide, flailing her hands. She grabbed the clothes from the suitcase and wildly began hurling them across the room. Make him stay. Anything at all to make him stay. At that moment her mother stepped firmly into the room, heels clacking against the floor. She took in the sight of her husband's helplessness and her daughter's hysteria and simply stood watching.

"Mom! Why is Dad leaving? Make him stop, Mom!" Yuka screamed hysterically.

"I'm sorry, Sweetie, but it's for the best. For all of us." She stared coldly at Yuka's father. He nodded and stood, suitcase clutched so tightly in his hand that his knuckles turned white, and began to shuffle towards the door. Yuka ran after him screaming, but he simply continued down the stairs to the car.

"Dad, please come back! Don't leave! PLEASE DAD!" She reached him and grabbed his coat, digging her heels into the floor and holding on to him as though for dear life. He attempted to weakly tug himself free of her grasp, but she refused to let go. Yuka sobbed and clutched at him as he finally managed to pull himself free. Shamelessly, she followed, once more attempting to drag him back into the house. He finally managed to open the door and step outside, crossing to the car and throwing his suitcase in the back seat.

"No! No! NO!" she shrieked uncontrollably at her helplessness, bent over with the force of screaming the words as loudly as she could. She beat her fists on the car, watching her father, facing straight forward. He wouldn't even look at her. No, he was too ashamed to look at her.

"Don't leave us," she whispered softly, voice ragged and painful, but she didn't notice. Her entire being was focused on the man in front of her who sat sagging in his seat, tears streaming down his face.

"I love you, Yuka. I'm sorry," he whispered, before starting the engine and pulling out of the driveway. Yuka screamed once more, sprinting after the car as quickly as she could manage. Then she slowed to a run, then a jog, and finally an exhausted walk as her body would no longer carry her. She watched in helpless rage as the car became a speck on the horizon, and then it was gone.

She trudged slowly back towards the house, barely realizing where her feet were carrying her. Yuka heard the click-clack click-clack of heels behind her as her mother caught up with her.

"Come inside, honey, you'll catch a cold," she said calmly.

"Come inside... because I'll catch a cold? DAD JUST LEFT US BECAUSE OF YOU AND YOU'RE WORRIED ABOUT A COLD!" Yuka screamed once more, every fiber of her being filled with the deepest hatred for the woman standing before her, oblivious to her pain. Her mother merely looked at her with surprise, before her "it was for the best" expression snapped firmly back onto her face. Yuka felt hot tears pouring down her face, contorted in fury.

"You know what? This is it! I can't do this any more! I don't carewhat you say! I am not moving!" she raged, before running down the street once more. Yuka took refuge in the bushes by the park nearby, scrunched up as she felt the branches scratching at her tear-stained face and hands, wanting to stay here forever and wanting to leave.

One month later, Yuka find herself standing outside, gazing up at her new home in Japan. She couldn't believe she hadn't been able to prevent her mother from dragging her here. It wasn't enough that she had destroyed her entire life, she had to drag Yuka away from her home and her friends to a place that as stranger and unknown to her as if it had been in another world. Ever since her dad had left, Yuka had felt emotionless. She silently walked past her mother into her new room, and sighed. It was fine, but it wasn't her old room, her old house. She seemed to exist in a different reality, waking, sleeping, just watching the window for any sign of her father. The days crawled by slowly but still Yuka remained the same. It was late one night when she was sitting on her bed watching the ceiling when she heard a noise in the hall.

Yuka's mother's heels announced her presence before she actually stepped into the room. Yuka pointedly turned away from her to look out the window.

"Yuka," her mother sighed sadly," are you still not talking to me?"

It had been an entire week since Yuka had moved into the new house, and she still hadn't spoken a word. Her mother glanced pointedly at the unpacked boxes laying by the desk.

"Sweetie... I think it's time you start going to school. I found a very nice school called Domino High School that would be just perfect for you, and it's only a few miles away!" she smiled cheerfully.

Yuka looked at her and nodded dully, before finally managing to speak.

"I don't want to go to school. I'd rather not go anywhere."

Her mother sighed once more and left the room. Yuka's silence had been hard on her, because she was usually so sweet and cheerful. It's true she hadn't meant to hurt her daughter, but the relationship with her and Yuka's father just hadn't been working. It would have only gotten worse in time. Still, seeing her daughter in that condition made her very sad.

"I don't want to go to school, but I can't shut myself up forever," Yuka thought to herself, trying to make a decision and not knowing what," if Dad comes back, we still wouldn't be a happy family. I guess I'll have to cheer up, and maybe if I just take baby steps with this, I'll be all right eventually."

Finally, she heaved herself out of bed and took slow, unsteady steps down the hall. Yuka found her mother in the kitchen reading the newspaper. She hadn't noticed before, but her mother's eyes were rimmed darkly, and she looked so tired. Yuka sighed.

"I'll go to Domino, Mom, but I don't promise I'll like it."