Father's Day was never something Hazamada looked forward to; it was just another holiday to remind him that no one gave a shit, really. At its best, it gave him a reason to visit the cemetery on Morioh's outskirts. At its worst, it gave him yet another reminder that the world was terrible and life had never been worth living.
Of course, his mother no longer visited, even on holidays like these. Maybe she'd moved on from him. Maybe she just didn't care anymore. Either way, he couldn't help but be happy; he had no intentions of dealing with her. Not today.
The cemetery was pleasantly empty, and the flowers he held to his chest were riffled by the warm afternoon breeze. Peace and quiet, just like he preferred. His father's grave was far from prying eyes, settled near the farthest corner, and for that Hazamada was eternally grateful. It wasn't anything fancy, of course; they never had the money for that, especially not when his family had only just been burdened with a second child. He had a feeling his dad wouldn't have wanted anything too nice, though. (Not that he had left any goodbye wishes in the first place.)
Hazamada sat on the cracked concrete, setting down the bouquet of white chrysanthemums on the monument, and for a while, he just... stayed there, silent. He wasn't sure what to say. Was there really anything to say? And if there was, should he say it? He'd never really known his dad, after all. Nevertheless, he was the only family member he could say he had a half-decent relationship with.
"...Sorry," he began, his knees tucked close to his chest. "I guess it's hard to keep myself from thinking that this was partially my fault. I'm, uh, not really sure whether it really was or not, but I can't really ask you, can I?" This was stupid. He should just go home. Why had he decided to do this? Was he even listening?
"I can see where you got the idea, though. If I could kill myself to get away from my family, I would. I'd see them again in Hell, though, and that'd fucking suck. I've got the feeling Mayumi's already there." He snorted, though he felt kind of bad about his joke afterward.
"You know, sometimes I wish I could've died, instead of her. Not because I think she deserves to be alive or anything, but just because living is a damn chore. I don't get why people think it's some sort of great thing- life, I mean. I'm really tired of getting my shit wrecked all the time, and always getting blamed when I give them what's coming. Most of the human race deserves a good beatdown, honestly.
"I get that... sometimes I get carried away, like with the whole eye thing, and with Junko. But I still don't think that justifies me being called a psychopath, or getting suspended more than once. It's all bullshit. Might be a little easier to deal with if someone who wasn't a total asshole was here for me.
"Would've been a little easier to deal with if you were here." Hazamada stood up, brushing off his pants. "I figure we might see each other again pretty soon, though, if nothing changes. Keep an eye out for me."