After around four years in hiatus, here's something I've been brewing up for the past few days. Any and every critique will be received kindly, especially since the chraracters involved have proven to be a chore in terms of keeping their authentic reactions as how the game portrays them.


"But dad…"

"Didn't I tell you not to go play outside this long? I told you just to be outside for an hour, not a whole afternoon!"

"Can't I pla-"

"Play? Life isn't all about play, Kouya!"

"It's a weekend-"

"I still gave you no permission to play this long! What's so hard to understand about that?!"

"But… I wanted to-"

"Enough, Kouya Aotsuki! You're grounded for a week!"

"T-this isn't fair, dad!"

"I said, you're grounded for a week! Understood?"

"But da-"

"No buts! Now go to your room and think about what you did!"


It's exhausting enough to find myself repeating the same memories time and again, even if I never really intend to do so. And lately, it's been eating me to a point that I can't focus properly on my music or work. Even my sleep seems pretty affected by it; not even daybreak and I'm already up because of it. Doesn't really help that the rain outside's become strong; typhoon's expected to pound us to oblivion for the next few days so there's no chance I'd see a sunny morning.

"Kouya this… Kouya that… overbearing asshole…" I growl, ripping the blanket off me and throwing it aside. "What's his problem anyway? Am I not doing enough to please him?"

Dad's never been the one who shows appreciation, unlike mom. It just seems like he's here to burden me with things I never want to do, and if I try to do something to make him proud of me, all he says is "You should have done more." Seriously, does he even see me as his son? Or someone who should become the person he wished to be?

I ruffle my headfur in frustration, flicking the switch to the lamp on the nightstand and let some light flow into this dark apartment room. The soft yellow tone, thankfully, barely burdens my eyes, adjusting to it relatively quick before standing from my bed. No point in going back to sleep, there's still a song I need to practice, and a busy day looms over me. I've got work at Kazenari, then a gig at the local cafe where I'll debut my new song.

My sleepy eyes barely open up, and when they do, I'm already in the bathroom. In front of the mirror, I take a long look at myself. The messy hairfur, eyebags underneath my eyes, and a… tearmark? I lean forward, sighing as I see it's an actual tearmark.

"Severely affected, aren't you, Kouya?" I ask my reflection, giving a half-hearted snicker that subsides to a lonesome sigh, trying to hide the facts won't help anyone. A weak squeak of the knob and water flows out from the faucet, washing up my face to wake myself and clean up that tear stain. This is probably a good time to trim off some overgrown fur, making quick work of it with a pair of specialized scissors to do this job.

With my face clean and presentable, I head back out and turn on the lights, much of my messy apartment revealed to the light. Music sheets, papers scribbled with lyrics, and crumpled paper litter the dining table, coupled with my guitar leaning against the edge, a mug or two that needs to be washed, my unkept bed, and the magazines that remain disorganized on the bookshelves, you'd be right to guess that a college student lives here. Guests would be less than impressed, but since I'm the only one living here, I don't bother with the cleaning. After all, am I gonna impress anyone? Probably not.

I grab my guitar, then take a seat on the chair. The work I still need to do is finishing the new song I'm writing, practice the fingering on another song, and begin work on another project. So far, my entire night was dedicated to the song that will be debuted by evening, and the lyrics finally make a more compelling story than when the thing was first drafted. After that, I went on with the other song for our next concert at Kazenari Music Hall, something more modern with the unique Musikus flare.

"Alright… what's the first song on the agenda?" I mutter, looking at the papers before me. "Why don't I start with this new one, then I'll work on the performance later."

Settling with the debut song, I grab the paper with the lyrics, running through it a few times to get the emotions. It soon dawns on me that this is the most personal song on my list; the closest one to speak of my story. I feel my throat dry a little, and my chest turning tight, finding it increasingly hard to read towards the chorus. If I'd think of reasons, half of it is because I'm trying to think of how to sing this, and half of it is my longing for my dad to hear this… this cry for his approval.

Minutes pass while I sit there in a trance, vivid flashbacks of my attempts to get my dad's approval with the things I do. My decent academic performance, my sports endeavors, up until those days in high school where I get into trouble just to catch his attention. Nothing… it's like he doesn't care as long as it isn't up to his standards.

I shake my head, grabbing the guitar from the side and mindlessly plays the chords on is, a rush of words pour out of me like a raging waterfall. Heart and soul force out my innocence again; the dying child in me who yearns for his father's love and approval. My tears won't stop, but I couldn't care less, I want him to hear this… I want dad to hear my song!

"Cuz if you know the chains that keep me down…. and my wounded soul tries to hide it all…. It's been so long since I felt warm and whole…. it's been so long, but I still hold on… For there's a hope that keeps on pushing me …. to do it all, to give my entirety…. to prove to you that I can do it after all… and my only hope is to hear how much I make you proud of me…"

Those last words, that's everything I wish for. That child in me still begs for it, even if I try to suppress or kill it. Somehow, some way, he would always come back to remind me, and I would end up hiding and letting a tear or two out, keeping my pained heart at bay as I steel myself up. I won't let anyone see my weak side, nor will I give in and show an ounce of weakness. Yet…

"Compose youself, Aotsuki" I reprimand myself, breathing deep and forcing my tears to stop, yet all it did is worsen the sniffling. "There's still songs that need attention." I add, deciding to work on the concert song now to clear my mind. A bit more upbeat and definitely for crowds, my fingers go straight to work and my hand starts plucking all the strings in an experimental way, looking for a new way to play this.

"Then I'll work on that song… please… I hope you hear this, dad…"


Buzzing sounds… great…

Reaching to the bedside table, I turn off the alarm clock that buzzes to the sound of the pouring rain. I wouldn't know if this day would be dreadful, or it's just the rain making it seem like it, but one thing's for sure, I need to get up.

Throwing the blanket to the side, I sit on the side of the bed hunching forward, a frustrated sigh blowing out of my lips, and my hands rubbing my face with an exasperated look. It's been like this since he ran away, waking up early, and either walking to his room or checking downstairs and suddenly seeing him and his bags on the sofa. You can say it's a pattern at this point.

I have to admit, and my wife keeps saying this, that I'm as stubborn as my boy is. He wants to do his thing with music, but I fear it won't be stable enough to keep him floating in the long term. Yet he's resisting my idea on how to have the stable life I want him to have, and combine my less-than-forgivable patience, it would end with a heated exchange that strains my connection to him. Then came that night… I hoped to come to his room and discuss this matter as level-headed as I can, yet by the time I opened the door, his window was open, and his bags were gone, so were his belongings.

Just thinking about it makes me regret everything. I always feel sick in the stomach, wondering if he has food to eat or a place to sleep, or if his job is enough to get all what he needs and wants. Last I've heard, he works at a music store at Kazenari, and has started a band called Musikus, performing at the local concert hall or any place that would love to showcase new talent. I wanted to make sure he's okay, so, I've been secretly watching his performances since.

While I keep on thinking about this, I stumble to the bathroom, locking up the door and flicking the lights on, staring at my reflection. The man standing before me no longer has the youthful vigor he once has, nor does his optimistic, carefree demeanor. In his place stands a hardened man, scarred by trial and bruised by pain, who enjoys a comfortable life after the hardships that he's endured.

Yet… what good are these sacrifices when my son has ran away because of me?

Shamefully bowing my head, I keep looking at my own reflection, feeling dirty and upset at myself for being too hard on him. He's my son, not a slave; why didn't I let him spread his wings? Maybe if I'd been more supportive, he wouldn't have become this rebellious.

"Oh Kouya…" my lonely voice echoes in the tiled room, combing back my hair and staring at myself in the mirror. "I'd do anything to have you back, son…"

While my emotions slowly simmer, I strip down my briefs and step into the shower, a stream of warm water cascading onto me as I adjust the knobs. It's soothing to have the shower run like this, letting my thoughts melt away together with my worries. Tipping my head, the running water trickles down my back, sending a warm tickle across my spine, sighing from the lovely feeling.


"Kouya! Kouya Aotsuki!"

"I've had enough of your bossing around, dad! Leave me alone!"

"Don't you dare talk back at me, Kouya. Come back here right now!"

"Shut up! You never cared about me!"

"Kouya!"

"I said leave me alone, dad! You don't understand! You'll never understand!"

"Kouya, come back down this instant!"

"I hate you, dad!"


I gasp as my eyes open, looking around the bathroom while the water gives off a monotonous tone, to which I turn it off. It was that night… that very night he ran away. It's still so fresh even after a year... a whole year… My spine turns cold, stepping back until I press against the wall, then sitting on the floor with my hand holding my head.

"I'm sorry, son…" is all I could mutter, sniffling now and then, until tears start dripping out my eyes. "I'm sorry for all of this…"

I didn't know how long I was cooped up in the bathroom. Half an hour, an hour, even two hours? Regardless, after the tears dried up, I grab a towel and dry myself up, still needing to head to work. Worrying about Kouya will have to wait, that's what I'm mentally saying to myself as I head to the cabinet, picking up a freshly ironed dress shirt and a clean pair of slacks. While putting up some underwear, the aroma of coffee starts filling the air, tickling my nose in the process. Guess Kazumi woke up no sooner than I did. Anyway, once I got my clothes on, and grabbing my briefcase underneath the bed, I head down to the living room, seeing the table fixed up with two plates set up, each filled with some toast and an omelette. In the kitchen, Kazumi is preparing the mugs for the coffee, a perfect time to give her a little hug from behind. It would be an understatement to say she's surprised.

"Morning, sweetheart." she says, her soft, loving voice cracking my face with a smile. "Coffee's just about done. Why don't you take a seat and I'll carry these to the table, hmm?"

I'd like to comply, but right now, I need her in my arms now more than ever, especially after what happened earlier with me. "But I like it this way~ Hugging you from behind while the rain trickles outside. Kinda romantic, don't you think?" I smile at the end, seeing her face curl to an amused smile.

"Sweet talker~" her retort follows, filling the mugs with coffee and turns tail to head to the dining table. I follow behind her, watching her set the mugs down and the two of us settle in for breakfast.

"Friday again." Way to start a conversation, Mitsu. "Is there anything new today? Apart from this weather?"

Kazumi quiets herself for a second, then gives me a flyer, her face stern to the bone. "I saw this the other day, it's Kouya's performance at a cafe in Kazenari." she starts, sipping her coffee whilst placing the flyer near my plate. "Open night, so anyone can go listen." She takes another sip. "Maybe this is your chance to try and make amends to your son, Mitsu."

I take the flyer into my hands, reading the details like where the cafe is, what time the open night starts, and so on. A part of me wants to go there immediately after work and maybe confront Kouya, yet another side of me feels too guild-ridden to do anything. I take that my thoughts were heard by my wife, who immediately steps in to block my train of thought.

"Think about it, this may be your only shot at saying what you really feel."

My eyes close, holding the paper on my hands tightly. "You're right… I'll see what I can do when I get off from work later tonight."

Seems like she's happy enough with my answer, taking back the flyer and keeping it on the side of the table. I guess I can focus on my breakfast, then worry about work. Warm aromas fill my senses as I eat, the tender egg and the flavorful filling erasing all my cares and worries of the day in a snap, savoring the meal whilst I have the time. In quick bites, I soon finish up my meal, left to deal with the coffee that's piping hot, taking slow sips now and then. Kazumi takes her time, though. Granted, she doesn't have any place to head to for the day, and the inclement weather would make market day too burdensome without the car, so lucky her.

After breakfast, and with the clock reading around six-thirty in the morning, I grab my briefcase once more and kiss my wife goodbye. "Take care of yourself, sweetheart. I'll be back early, bosses told us we'd be sent home before the local engineering department inspects the office."

"Be safe now, Mitsu. Don't forget the open night."
The rain won't stop pouring as I walk outside, an umbrella keeping me dry for a while as I throw my stuff in the car, then stepping in it myself. In the silence of the cabin, I take deep breaths, my heart pacing itself and my anxiety shooting up just a little, wondering what will happen tonight at the cafe. A lot could happen, he might run away, fight me, or listen to me. Yet any of those chances would be better than missing the opportunity to talk to him, even for a little.

"I'm resolving myself to do this." I say to myself, starting up the car, the engine roaring to life. "This is for myself… and for Kouya."