Chapter 2- The Past

**Trigger warning: reference to domestic abuse**

I sat across from my mother at the dining table. Memories of the past flooded my brain, building up a bitter taste in my mouth. I slammed my rice bowl down in frustration. Hotaru reached over and squeezed my hand, as if she knew what I was feeling. I could feel Michiru and mother looking at me, but I couldn't meet their gaze. I was barely holding on.

"I am not hungry. Michi, I am going to go out and clear my head a bit." Without waiting for her response, I stood up and left the table. An audible sigh came from my mother but I ignored her.

I grabbed the key and ran to my car. Vroom. Vroom. The engine revved and I pressed down hard on the gas. I rolled down the roof and allowed the wind to dance around me. The rough wind and the roaring engine had always being able to soothe me, even when I was at my darkest moment.

I took the usual route along the shore, where the road would be mostly empty and I could take my car to its fastest speed. The wind whipped and lashed, reminding me not to be weak.

Please let me be your mother again. Mother's voice popped into my head, disrupting my peace. I gripped the wheel tightly until my knuckles turned white. How could she? If she really wanted to be my mother again, she had so many chances over the years. Yet, she waited until dad was dead.

Suddenly, I felt like I was suffocating. The car came to a screeching halt, as I slumped over the wheel, gasping for air. My heart pounded and an unexplainable panic rose. The panic continued, intensified in my chest. I clutched my heart, trying to breathe normally. Even though it was a cool spring night, I was covered in sweat. Then, the tears came….

I didn't want to remember him. I didn't want to mourn him. He was a misogynistic man and a sadist. How mom could stand him all these years was beyond me.

Before I was born, I had two older brothers. According to mom, dad was a different man back then. Ecstatic to have two sons, he was the model father. He taught my brothers sports and martial arts. He took them driving in his car. When mom was pregnant with me, he told everyone he couldn't wait to have a third son.

I could almost imagine his disappointed face, when he realized I was a girl. The funny thing was, by the time I was four, I knew I wasn't all girl. Gender identity was a funny thing. I wasn't a girl and I wasn't a boy either.

I remembered watching my brothers playing with dad outside, doing their usual father-son bonding sports. Mom always joked about how we could have a girls-only party but that was no interest to me. I wanted to run alongside my brothers and beat them in everything. So in the end, I disappointed my dad by not being a son and I disappointed my mom by not being a daughter.

Dad named me "Harun" before I was born. It meant warrior lion. After I was born, mom changed it to Haruka. Growing up, I wished I could keep the more masculine name. I wished I was the warrior lion and I could be strong.

As a family, we always go to church on Sundays. Each and every time, it would be a traumatic experience for me. Pretty, frilly, pink dresses….complete with a pink bow to my hair. It wasn't that I hated dresses, but the fact that I was expected to wear them. So one time, I jumped into a puddle on purpose so that my dress would get dirtied. Without a word, dad lifted me out of it and then slapped me hard in front of everyone. That was our first father-daughter interaction. Mom stood by like a good wife. She obeyed. I was wrong and so I must be punished. My brothers were shocked but then sneered at my misfortune. I sat through the sermon in my wet and muddy dress.

When I was seven, my brothers died in a drowning accident. If dad was already cold and distant toward mom and me, he was even more so after. His last bit of warmth died along with my brothers. What was left was an empty shell that housed a monster.

I kept my gender identity as a secret for years. I knew neither of them could understand. I didn't really understand it myself back then either. I rejected all things feminine. I found out I was really good at sports and so I joined all of them at school. Mom was supportive initially. She came to my track and field meets sometime. Then, my dad barked his order. "You are a girl. You should know your place." It wasn't proper for a girl to be so athletic. In his twisted mind, I was supposed to stay silent and be meek. Mom apologized to me but she stopped coming. Too afraid to contradict her man, she chooses to obey her husband instead of supporting her daughter.

One day, he came home early from work. He found me playing dress up in my room. I was wearing his white shirt and his suit, complete with his most expensive tie. In a cold and terrorizing voice, he asked what I was doing. Even though my heart was pounding, I refused to show him fear. Afraid that my trembling voice would betray me, I chose to stay silent and defiant. He gently took off the tie and his suit jacket, and then he yanked my arm forcefully and shoved me into the hallway closet. I forgot how long I stayed there, but I refused to beg. Mom came home hours later but she couldn't do anything to save me. "Haruka was dressed up like a man. It was your fault. Shouldn't you be teaching her on how to be a proper lady? She's not young anymore." Dad yelled and blamed mom.

When I was twelve, I made another discovery. It was no surprise that I like girls. One day, my parents were called in to the school. I was caught flirting with another girl during class. The teacher talked to them for a long time behind closed doors, no doubt giving them tips on how to correct my deviant lifestyle. Dad came out of the room and his face was red with anger. He stared at me and simply shook his head. Mom had her face down and she made me apologize to the teacher for talking during class.

By this point, they had given up on me. Dad spent more and more time at work. When he was home, he would yell at mom excessively for any little wrong doings. One day, out of the blue, he went into my room and took all my "male" clothing and burnt them in our backyard. I was left with frilly shirts and pretty dresses.

Mom once asked me why I antagonized dad so much. In her mind, I was this way because I wanted to be like my brothers and be loved by my father. She couldn't be more wrong. I was this way because I was born like this and I shouldn't have to beg for my parents love.

I came out to my parents officially when I was fourteen. I had met a girl and we were dating. I decided that I wouldn't lie anymore, or hide who I am. I sat mom and dad down and told them what they already know.

"You are not my daughter. Unless you change, you are not welcome in this house anymore. Have you not brought enough shame to this family already?" Dad towered over me and stared at me with his cold black eyes. Mom was crying uncontrollably.

So I packed a bag and left. I was really close with my track and field coach at the time, and she took me in. As a way of repaying her kindness, I practiced harder than all the other teammates and I won her many, many medals.

Beep. Beep. My communicator was flashing. The sound startled me and brought me back to the present. I wiped my tears away and flipped open the watch.

"There's an attack at the Juban Shopping Center. The girls need our help." Michiru said in a hushed voice.

"I will meet you there." Hungry for a fight, I hopped into the car and raced toward Juban. If dad could see me now, fighting in a mini skirt, what would he think? Screw him. He's dead.