Author's Note will be at the end and is optional.
Father
By: Ninoandjaffar
What is a father? 1. A male parent. 2. A father-in-law, stepfather, or adoptive father. 3. Any male ancestor, especially the founder of race, family, or line; progenitor. 4. A male who exercises paternal care over other persons; paternal protector or provider: a father to the poor. 5. A person who has originated or established something: the father of modern psychology; the founding fathers.
What is a parent? 1. A father or a mother. 2. An ancestor, precursor, or progenitor. 3. A source, origin, or cause. 4. A protector or guardian. 5. Biology: Any organism that produces or generates another.
What is a father? A father is the male parent in a child's life who sets an example of behaviors that are appropriate and teaches why other behaviors are not. A child should feel loved and cared about when in the presence of a father.
What is a parent? A parent is a person in a child's life who's purpose is to make the child feel safe and secure. The child should feel loved and cared about when in the presence of a parent.
:::
These were things I never had while growing up. My parents...my father...left a long time ago. I find myself nineteen years old now, and I was six when they departed on a trip they would never come home from. Somehow, I turned out just fine. Maybe it was my grandmother becoming more than just a grandmother to me...she became my parent. Or maybe it was just pure luck.
Never-the-less, I find myself grateful. I find myself thankful that I don't have a father, as horrible as that may seem. But if you knew my friend, my dearest companion, you might understand where I'm coming from.
The horridness of the stories he tells me not only send shivers down my spine, but they set my stomach churning. My heart starts to beat faster and faster, filling up with rage and hate for the man my friend still calls 'father.'
A slap to the face. "You're worthless!"
A punch to the gut. "Why do you even exist?"
A grabbing of arms, forcing towards the ground. "You're more pathetic than any other creature on this Earth!"
Sometimes, I ask myself why I still listen. I hate hearing stories like this, especially from someone so close and dear to me. But, then the answer comes to my head: I listen because I care, because I love him and if listening is what he needs of me, I'll listen until my ears bleed and fall off.
But you know, maybe I have this all wrong. What defines a father versus a dad?
What is a dad? Noun informal: Father.
What is a father? A father is the male who offers half of the DNA necessary for the creation of a child. He is also the deciding factor for the gender of the child.
What is a dad? A dad is the male parent in a child's life who sets an example of behaviors that are appropriate and teaches why other behaviors are not. A dad is a person in a child's life who's purpose is to make the child feel safe and secure. A child should feel loved and cared about when in the presence of a dad.
:::
Deidara stood in the living room, looking at a picture. A woman with brunette hair, a man with red hair, and a baby with red hair stood, with a city scene in the background.
"Who are they, un?" he asked me as he pushed some blond hair behind his ear.
I walked over, standing just behind him. "They're my mom and dad," I answered simply.
"Oh," he gasped. After a minute, he turns to face me. "They look like nice people, un."
I smile. "From what I've heard, they are."
He turns to look back at the picture. Though I'm looking at the back of his head, I can still feel the sorrow he's emitting. "I wish my father was like that, un."
:::
Now that I think about it, we always did refer to them differently. His was 'father,' and mine was 'dad.' So maybe that was the difference.
A father is a sperm donor. A dad is a mentor.
:::
A knock at the door dragged me from my thoughts. I quietly got up from my chair at my desk and headed for the door. As I opened it, a grotesquely familiar sight greeted me.
"Hey, Danna..." his eyes are a dulled blue. "Can I stay over for the night, un?"
Without words, I quickly escorted him to my bathroom. I felt like this shouldn't feel so familiar. It felt too ritual to me.
His eye was swollen, and he's cradling his right arm. I don't need to ask to know what happened, but I asked anyways. "So, what happened this time?"
"I fell down the stairs, un."
His answers are lies, and both of us know this. I could never figure out why he lied to begin with, but more baffling to me is why he still lies about it. We've talked of this many times before.
Maybe it's just part of the ritual.
I started to clean off his eye. There appeared to be a cut on his forehead, so the blood must be cleaned up first. A band-aid should do just fine. Once the bleeding is taken care of, I got a towel, running it under cold water. "Here," is all I managed as I handed it to him. He already knew it was for his eye.
Next, the arm. I picked it up, examining the extent of the injuries. Looks like just a couple cuts, nothing major. Clean off the blood, wrap and ACE-wrap around it, and let him rest. That's about all I can do for him.
"Arigatou," I heard him whisper as I finish wrapping his arm.
I gave him a faint smile. "It's no problem. Let's go lay down for a little bit."
We're both quiet as we headed into my room. I like to think it's a nice room; Deidara thinks it's plain. There's only the desk, a bed, and a shelving unit with a small television on it. The walls are red in color, and the carpet is a cream. Red silken sheets were neatly made on my bed.
No wonder it only took him one guess as to my favorite color.
We both headed to the bed. I got on first, adjusting the pillows for him. It would be best to raise his head for his eye, after all. He joined me once it was all set.
Silence overcame us as we laid in the semi-darkness the curtain over my window created. Deidara was the first to break the silence.
"Can we listen to some music, un?" he quietly asked.
"Of course."
Only a minute later, and the piano music of Satie's Gymnopedie filled the room. Deidara normally listens to J-pop, and I to classical. When he's here, though, he likes pieces with piano in them. So sometimes I even perform for him. When we're at school, I wont deny that I enjoy listening to Nico Touches The Walls.
"I like it here, un."
"I like you being here, too."
"I feel...safe...secure...when I'm here with you, un."
"I'm glad. You are safe and secure with me."
"You love me and care for me, and that's all I want, un." It's a statement, not a question.
"And I always will."
Hm. Maybe I'm more of a dad than his own father.
AN: Ok, so just to explain: this is a vent-fan-fiction. That means I am writing this to vent. My friend, Sakura Tenshikami, and I had a series of texts a few weeks ago about how her father had hurt her that day. Now, I must admit, something always seemed off about her father, but that just kinda set me on edge. It just rubs me the wrong way when people do stuff like that. So, with nothing I could really do but tell her that I love her and that I'd protect her as much as I could, I began to write this. As I'm sure you can guess, I am Sasori and she is Deidara. I thank you for reading this and, if you wouldn't mind, could you keep her in your thoughts for me.
Also, just for those of you wondering, the definitions were taken straight from either or my heart. I'm sure you can tell which came from where.
