Eight Years Old

Karma wasn't sure what to make of his stepfather. On one hand, Mr. Akabane seemed like a perfect match for his mother: eccentric, quiet, with a kind face and a handsome smile. On the other hand, he made no sense at all.

"Ah, Karma! I saw your report card for this semester. Excellent job! All A's is something to be proud of."

Karma blinked up at his stepfather. "No, it's not."

Mr. Akabane's grin wavered slightly, but remained mostly intact. "What do you mean? Not everyone can get straight A's at your age."

Karma frowned and huffed quietly. "I was aiming for perfect scores in all subjects. I didn't get them, so I failed."

At that, Mr. Akabane's smile vanished. He closed his eyes and seemed to be contemplating something. After a while, he sighed and bent down so he was on Karma's level. "Karma, your grades are nothing to be ashamed of. Your scores are the best in your class. You worked very hard, and it paid off."

Karma clenched his fists, and felt his teeth grind together. "I didn't work hard enough. I'll do better next time."

"Is this about your father?" Mr. Akabane's voice was very quiet and very soft. It did nothing to appease Karma's frustration, though.

Karma felt his shoulders tense, and he dropped his gaze to glare at the floor of the living room. "No," he muttered.

Liar, liar! a voice chanted in his head. What a disappointment! Are you still trying to impress him? After everything he did? After he abandoned you? After he threw you away like garbage? Pathetic!

Shut up.

"Karma," his stepfather said, still with that gentle tone of voice. "You have nothing to prove to him, or your mother. And even if you did..." Mr. Akabane paused, took a deep breath, and continued. "Even if you did, I'm sure they are very proud of your grades."

Stupid.

Stupid.

Stupid!

Now who's the liar? Karma thought viciously. Who do you think you are, pretending you know everything? You don't know anything! I failed, can't you see that? I have to be perfect. Everything has to be perfect. They'll never see me if I'm not perfect! I have to do better, be better, act better. Don't you see? Don't you know anything? I failed.

"Yeah," Karma answered. He mustered a smile to show his stepfather, and finally glanced up from the floor. "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind." He began to move past his stepfather towards his bedroom, already running through what he missed on his exams and devising a study plan to improve.

"Try to rest, okay?" Mr. Akabane called out from behind him.

"Okay!" Karma hollered back.

The man made no sense at all.

Nine Years Old

"Are you sure, Karma? Skipping a grade can be a lot of work."

Karma stared impassively at his teacher. "I'm sure, sensei."

Karma's homeroom teacher frowned at him from over his glasses. The man was in his fifties, with a receding hairline and wrinkles around his mouth from too much smiling. He was constantly attempting to get Karma to socialize more with his classmates, and Karma resented him for it.

Who needs friends? Karma would grumble to himself. They only want to play video games or watch TV. They don't care about school at all! They're all idiots. I don't want to be friends with idiots.

"I don't know, Karma," his teacher sighed. "What do your parents think?"

Karma tensed imperceptibly.

"Okaa-san, can I ask you something?" Karma tried to speak clearly into the mouthpiece of the telephone.

"Sure, but you'll have to be fast. We're about to board the plane." His mother replied, her voice already taking on a distracted note.

"Can I skip this grade?"

Silence.

"It shouldn't be too hard!" Karma rushed out, trying to fit all of his argument into the small time frame he had been allotted. "My teacher said I was already ahead of my class, and that the rest of this year's curriculum shouldn't be too hard for me. If I study, I'll definitely be able to do it! I just need your permission..." Karma trailed off, anxiety causing him to lose the rest of his prepared speech.

"All right," Mrs. Akabane sighed. "You have my permission. Just send me whatever forms you need filled out, okay?"

"Okay!" Karma burst out. "Thanks, okaa-san! I'll make you pr-"

"Our plane is boarding. I have to go, Karma."

The line went dead.

Karma stared at the telephone in his hand, bright smile already evaporating into disappointment. "I'll make you proud..."

"My mother said it was fine and to send her any forms she needed to fill out," Karma replied, expertly keeping his voice level and impassive.

His teacher sighed again. "Well, if your mother is okay with it, I guess you can test out of this grade. I'll get the textbooks you'll have to study. If you need any help-"

"I'll be fine. Thanks, sensei." Karma interrupted.

I don't need help. If I have help, that will ruin the whole thing. I have to do this on my own. If I do it by myself, I'll show her. I'll show her how smart I am. I'll show her she can be proud of me.

I'll show them both that I'm just as good as nii-chan.

Ten Years Old

Karma was running out of ideas. He had tried scoring the highest on tests, he had tried cleaning his room, he had tried cooking dinner, and he had tried falling off his bike. It didn't seem to matter what he did, though.

No matter what he did, his mother refused to look at him.

When he scored the highest, she examined his paper. When he cleaned his room, she inspected his floor. When he cooked dinner, she studied her plate. When he fell off his bike (and scraped his elbow and his knee), she merely observed the bloody area and advised him to put a band-aid on. She never looked at his face.

Karma glared at his reflection and considered smashing his head into the glass of his bathroom mirror. Would you look at me then, okaa-san? he thought, half frantic and half despairing. Would you see me then? Would you look into my eyes? Would you still love me, even if it was his face you saw?

Because the unfortunate truth was that Karma strongly resembled his father, and his mother couldn't bear it.

As the years went by, his face slowly morphed more and more into the face of the person who had both given him life and destroyed it, and Karma was desperate to halt the changes. Stop it! he wanted to scream. Stop it, stop it, stop it! You already ruined my life once; why are you trying to do it again? I don't want your name; I don't want your face; I don't want your smile; I don't want your voice! I don't want anything to do with you.

Karma doubted his father cared at all about his second son, but every now and then he thought he could almost hear his father laughing. Don't you know? She'll never see you! You'll never be worthy! You can cry and shout and scream, but in the end, it means nothing. You can skip grades and score the highest or fail every single subject. It doesn't matter. She'll only ever see my face, stupid boy. She'll look at you and remember me, and it will break her every time. Cursed child, stupid boy, worthless son! She'll never see you. Only me.

Shut up, shut up, shut up! Karma screamed inside his head. I don't care what you think; I don't care what you say! You always hated me! You tore our family apart; you don't get to criticize me! She will see me. Karma glowered at his reflection again. I'll make her see me. Just you wait. I'll be better and she'll love me again. It doesn't matter if I have to change my name or peel my face off. If I'm perfect, she'll stay home more. She'll stop going on business trips to get away from me. She'll stop avoiding me when she's home. She'll be able to look me in the eyes and tell me she loves me. She'll want me again. I'll show you. I'll be perfect, and then she'll see me.

Just you watch.

Okaa-san: Mother

Sensei: Teacher

Nii-chan: Big brother