Chapter 4

Sawamura missed over a week of school following his parents' deaths. It was the day of the funeral and he tried to distract himself with thoughts of what homework he'd have or how much time it'll take to make up. His thought strayed to the looks he would inevitably receive, the pitiful looks and the condolences he didn't want.

"Hey, Eijun, get your shoes on. We have to go soon."

Sawamura glanced up at Miyuki, who was in the doorway, fiddling with his black tie. The younger painstakingly bent down to get the black leather shoes Kataoka was loaning him, pulling them from under the bed. He cringed while trying to put them on until Miyuki scoffed, bending down to do it for him.

"You're seventeen and you still need help putting shoes on, you idiot." Miyuki sighed.

Sawamura chuckled, happy his brother was pretending they weren't about to head to a funeral. It was easier to pretend when everyone else did it with him. They then trudged to the living room, where Chris had been waiting with their grandfather. He was the exact person Sawamura needed, strong and safe and there. Chris actually skipped school for the funeral. As Sawamura would find out, quite a few of his friends skipped school to show support and attend the small ceremony.

They drove in silence until they reached the church. The rest of the day dragged on, heavy and ethereal. Sawamura did his best to hide his receding limp and was thankful he didn't look too banged up anymore. Furuya and Haruichi approached him with gentle hugs and in the background he could faintly hear Toku's voice mixing with his brother's own words.

Toku, Miyuki Toku was Miyuki's real father, who had driven down the few hours to be there for them. The church was filled with mostly friends of the brothers, and only a few actual family members who were distant. The service went on and Miyuki and Sawamura sat together with their grandfather Eitoku, all crying and sobbing but trying their best to keep it tame (with no such luck). They moved on to the church grounds where the matching caskets were being lowered into the ground in side-by-side plots. In his peripheral vision Sawamura saw his brother's real father patting Miyuki's shoulder.

Chris stood by Sawamura, giving in and hugging him while he quietly watched his parents lowered down. Sawamura managed to stay quiet as they were buried and left his life forever. The funeral faded out and they all went home. Haruichi and Furuya gave Sawamura and Miyuki goodbye hugs and sympathetic looks before they walked away. Toku mumbled some words to his son Miyuki and joined him in going back to Kataoka's home.

Sawamura couldn't sleep that night. He was alone in his bed for the first time in a week; Miyuki opting to sleep on the couch with his father and Eitoku was in the other guest room. It was late and everyone would be far asleep by now. He absentmindedly rubbed his eyes, tears completely dried up. He sat for a moment, thinking of how he would spend the next few hours if he couldn't sleep. It was maddening to think he was so incredibly exhausted, yet couldn't sleep. Then he remembered the medicine. It always made him out of it, and his head was getting sore from all his movement against the pillow.

So Sawamura took the bottle, struggling momentarily with the child safety in the dark before he finally got to the prize inside.

As he expected it made him groggy and he finally passed out against the sheets, wishing he could sleep forever.

The first day back at school was one of the hardest things Sawamura had to do after his parents passed. His limp was getting better—that is to say, he was better at hiding it. He convinced Rei, after hours of worrying about how he'd be treated at school, to let him go without the ugly shoes they were so adamant about him wearing. The one other occasion for not wearing it was the funeral.

Sawamura got to his first class, sitting in his usual seat. His classmates glanced at him with a newfound sadness in their eyes rather than the usual blank looks or cold stares when he'd get yelled at for being late or had forgotten his homework (when his parents tore it up in a drunken rage, that is).

Ochiai walked into the room, carrying a stack of papers along with his morning coffee. Sawamura followed him to his desk, ready to be yelled at for his long absence. He no doubt missed some important work, given they had just started reading Crime and Punishment and had been warned of an essay to be due once it was finished.

"Um, sergeant, I mean, sir?" Sawamura stuttered, knowing full-well that Ochiai hated him and losing school time over a hospitalization and becoming an orphan wouldn't sway the man from his hatred. "I missed school since Friday before last and I was, uh, wondering what work I had to make up…"

Ochiai glanced from his papers, looking Sawamura over before looking back down. "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing."

"Was there no homework assigned all week?" Sawamura questioned.

"No, there was quite a bit of reading from Hamlet and study packets. But you have nothing. Go sit back down."

Sawamura stared at Ochiai, worry growing. Was this some trick to fail him for missing so much? "I don't understand…"

Ochiai paused, looking back to Sawamura. "You get a pass." Lowly, as not to be heard by the other students, he added, "I lost my mother when I was your age. I couldn't focus on anything for weeks. You don't worry about the homework, Sawamura."

He was stunned. He becomes an orphan and suddenly his lit teacher, who hated him, was understanding?

Sawamura blinked away his surprise and found his seat again. The class was spent deep in thought about the life he would have now that his parents weren't there. It was like a game of how upset he could get without crying in class. A sick game, but he couldn't help that it was all he could think about.

Art class followed quickly and Sawamura was greeted by a few classmates he usually never talked to. People were being so nice to him and that was how he knew word got around. The easels were still out and he sat at his usual one. Furuya and Haruichi soon joined him, sitting on either side of him while they explained they had only been painting still-life's in class with the occasional homework assignment in their sketchbooks.

Yuki came up to Sawamura, quietly telling him he could work on his last painting instead of catching up on the ones everyone else had been doing. This was an issue, since he had no reference, so he opted instead to paint over his last piece and catch up. Their new still-life had no fruit, consisting of glass bottles and candlesticks. He worked around his previously painted oranges and apples and fit the new items in around them.

Art was his one release. It was shocking when the bell rang and Sawamura realized he had been so hyper-focused on his painting of the empty wine bottles in the middle of the room that he didn't see everyone else pack up and put their canvases on the drying racks.

He got up to put his own supplies away when his teacher stopped him.

"Why don't you stay and work on your painting?" Yuki said.

"But I have math to get to—"

"I'll call your teacher. I have a planning period and I could use the company."

Was the world spiraling into the sun? Is it normal for people to be so outrageously nice to mourning teenagers? First his english teacher and now the art teacher? Sawamura wasn't used to such random kindness, kindness that felt alien to him all at once, but he stayed. Painting was the first thing he's done that actually made him feel better. When he was in the act he was relaxed and focused on being productive, and even when he came back to the real world he felt a strange calmness.

The painting was done by fourth period and it was the best piece he had done all year.

Sawamura's toes were growing sore, the painkillers from the morning finally worn off. The walking through the halls and around the stairs didn't help it either. He warded his limp off by walking on his heel, though the stiffness in his foot caused further pain. Chris looked up, smiling lightly when Sawamura entered the room and sat next to him.

"Hey, Chris-senpai!" Sawamura bowed.

"Hello, Sawamura. How is your first day back?"

Sawamura paused, furrowing his eyebrows. "It's weird. All my teachers are being so nice to me. I got a pass to not read Hamlet and I got to skip math to paint. It's unreal!"

Chris nodded, not surprised at all. The school was abuzz with the information once it got out. The death of his parents had been mentioned on a local news site and it grew rampant when the only child of Sawamura family didn't come to school. Of course, most people were polite enough not to make a big deal of it. The teachers, though, felt the need to be incredibly understanding since his parents had been at the school the day of their death. It was surreal for everyone, involved or not. Sweet Sawamura was an orphan.

Class ended and Sawamura went to his locker, trying to find something worth taking home to do. An old sketchbook sat beneath some heavy textbooks and he tugged it out and placed it gingerly into his backpack.

"Sawamura!"

He turned, surprised to see Isashiki and Haruichi's brother Ryosuke walking toward him. Isashiki was waving at him, which was weird since he never acknowledged anyone before.

"We heard about your parents. Sorry, man."

Something stabbed at Sawamura's stomach.

The gentle voice of Ryosuke overpowered Isashiki. "Our condolences."

The two talked at one another and Sawamura weakly smiled at them before turning away to make his escape. He bumped past random people who turned to glare but softened as soon as they saw it was him, poor little orphan Sawamura.

Some people tried to stop him to pass on their sorrow or to try to act like they understand what he's going through, as if they weren't making fun of him and laughing at him just weeks before. Sawamura rushed past them, losing patience at the stops, breaking free of the school and out the front doors. Kataoka said he would pick him up, so he waited outside on a bench by the carpool lane.

He was flooded with relief when he saw his boss' car pull up, which he gladly hopped in. He was asked about his day and classes but Sawamura just said, "It was fine."

They got back home and Miyuki stood with Eitoku in the kitchen, making food together while Rei sat in the living room mending assorted torn clothing.

"Don't eat until dinner, Eijun," Miyuki called over his shoulder. "We're making tonkatsu."

Sawamura perked up like a puppy and went happily to his room, unloading his light backpack on the small desk. Today was his grandfather's last day before he had to catch a train back to province, and Miyuki would no doubt have to go back to his own real home. Miyuki's father insisted he could go back alone and give his son more time with his brother, but Miyuki for some reason wouldn't let his father leave his side again.

Sawamura figured Miyuki was cheap and wanted to get rid of the damn rental car and share a ride with his father back rather than hunting down train tickets in addition to his transportation problems.

Dinner came around and the six of them crowded around the table and ate the first real dinner they had had since before the funeral. As dinner came to a close, the adults and Miyuki's father were talking about how Miyuki adopted by Sawamura family. When they finished, Sawamura retreated back to his room. His room was dark and almost cold. The happiness faded quickly and he sat on the edge of the bed, happy for his brother that Miyuki finally found his real family, yet sad that Miyuki will leave him again.

And now Sawamura was thinking of his dead parents and he was sad once more. Today had been a hard day at school, being treated so differently only made him think about his parents more. Yet he knew if he was treated the same he wouldn't be able to work, too caught up in the mourning process. There was no middle-ground for him to rest and he had no idea what he was supposed to do.

The soft pillow met his cheek as he laid down to try to sleep off the foreboding feelings swelling inside his chest. Time passed and he was, once again, unable to sleep. Instead he got up, wandering over to the dresser to take some pain medicine for his aching foot.

This night the medicine did nothing to help him sleep, instead taking away one of the few distractions he had from his mourning. He limped out of his room, hoping to find some distraction from everything. The door to the second guest room was ajar, light spilling out of the slender crack. It drew him in and he entered the room to find his grandfather finishing up a prayer, kneeling by the bed with clasped hands and closed eyes. He finished up and smiled when he opened his eyes to see his young grandson.

"Eijun," Eitoku murmured. "Come here!" He reached out to the young boy, gently petting his head as he sat down with him on the bed.

"Eijun, I know you're having a tough time right now… but I want you to know me and your brother are here for you. We always have been and we always will be. I know it's not easy to lose your parents at such a young age, but it'll get better. And try not to look back on your parents like they were monsters. I know they were… strongly disciplining you boys… but they—"

"You knew?" Sawamura shocked.

His grandfather faltered.

"You knew they were… they did this?"

"Yeah, I did. I didn't know how bad it was until Kazuya started yelling about it the other day after the funeral. I knew they believed in such practices as spanking, but I had no idea they… they would go farther than that. If I had known your bruises weren't because you were just clumsy I would have come sooner and done something. Believe me, Eijun. I would have tried."

"You would have stopped them? But… why?"

Eitoku's face fell and he stared at Sawamura with the greatest sadness in his eyes. He tried his best to make his grandson understand, seeming to find no words to fit. "Because you didn't deserve any of it, and neither did your brother. I admit, you got it worse… But you didn't deserve it. You beat bad children as punishment, to teach them. Your parents, rest them, took it too far."

Sawamura felt numb but it wasn't from his slight abuse of the painkillers. Maybe it was because he was so tired or because he was so worn from the past week, but Sawamura found himself unable to understand why his grandfather was being so apologetic. Bad kids were beaten, that's how it was. Sawamura was bad, so his parents did what they had to. Or was he good and punished? It hurt too much to think about the past, so he didn't. He just sat there and accepted his parents weren't beating him—it was discipline, as Eitoku said.

That was it. Bad kids are disciplined. So, Sawamura was bad. And that means he had to be punished… right?

"Grandpa…" Eijun whispered, having trouble finding his voice. "I… I don't understand… You said what they did was wrong, and it felt wrong… So why do I miss them? Kazuya… Kazuya used to scream he hated them but he cried over them, too… Why do I miss it when they hit me?" Sawamura hiccupped and wiped away the stray tears that slid down his cheek.

Eitoku sniffled and hugged Sawamura tightly and muttered into his hair, "Because they were your parents."

They sat embraced for a while until Sawamura fell asleep. Eitoku tucked him in and brushed his hair out of his face lightly before tip-toeing out to the living room, watching his other grandson with a small smile. Miyuki was curled on the couch with his father, as expected. He was really going to miss his grandchildren.

The next day Sawamura woke with a start, instantly knowing he was in trouble. He never naturally woke up on a school day, it always required some kind of alarm or broken bottle being thrown. He rushed up, stumbling over his feet until he was out of the guest room and in the living room. Rei and his grandfather greeted him with a small smile from the couch, where he had been conversing with Miyuki.

Today was off to a very confusing start. "Rei-san," Sawamura asked, "Why didn't anyone wake me for school? It's Tuesday. I have work to—"

"Your grandfather leaves today, I think that constitutes a day at home to say goodbye."

Sawamura smiled faintly, glad to be able to see his family off.

Around four o'clock Kataoka arrived home early from work. The group all jammed into his car and Sawamura's head and toes and shoulder and—GOD—everything hurt, but he endured it. He didn't want to be a burden on everyone else. They were all crammed in there, it wouldn't help to whine.

When you cry, you're given something to cry about.

They reached the train station and they helped Eitoku with his bags and said their teary-but-composed goodbyes. The car ride back to Kataoka's home was somber and slow. Sawamura headed straight to bed, back to his painkillers.

He laid in bed silently for a while, feigning sleep when someone opened the door and undoubtedly checked him out. The person left again and he strained his ears to listen when he heard quiet talking outside the door.

The words were too soft, yet they beckoned him to listen. Sawamura fell asleep numb, only partially from the medicine, with a background wall of anxiety waiting for the numbness to pass.

It didn't take long for Chris to see there was a change in his friend. Sawamura was usually so cheery and loudmouthed, always so hungry and mooching whenever he had food. It was understandable that he would act differently after losing his parents, though it still worried Chris.

Sawamura would come into class in a haze most days, eyes unfocused and ears deaf. He would smile, bowed and greet his senpai and promptly continue on with acting like he wasn't there. He would open books and stare at random pages without reading or take out notebooks and just scribble the same circle over and over. There were no playful or bored doodles anymore, just dark lines and nonsense.

He had completely checked out and the teachers all allowed it.

It was known by the whole school what had happened and Chris was starting to see how damaging it really was to let Sawamura go to class but not give him work. He wasn't "working through things" but basking in the thoughts and memories of their deaths. Chris tried speaking privately to a couple of his teachers, who he also had for higher-level classes, but they all gave the same excuses about not being able to divulge another student's confidential personal business or some nonsense about giving Sawamura's time to heal.

It sounded logical, but not for Sawamura. Sawamura couldn't be given that much time alone with himself, Chris knew him too well; he knew the boy would think himself numb and let it take over him. He had anxiety issues that he confided to Chris about when they met. He admitted to being suddenly nervous around new people and his small blind fear they might just be mean and waiting to attack.

Chris never did understand the fear, but fears aren't meant to be logical.

It had been two weeks since the funeral and Sawamura showed no signs of recovering. His bruises from the apparent attack had all faded and the stitches in his head were taken out already. His limp was getting better though Chris didn't know if his toes were healing or if Sawamura was just used to the pain.

It didn't help that Miyuki and his father had left earlier that week to go back home. Since they left it got worse. Sawamura was either numb or emotional and Chris didn't know what he was supposed to do. Was he supposed to pretend nothing happened and let Sawamura pretend with him? Was he supposed to ask his friend how he was holding up and risk bringing back more pain? Things wouldn't be so hard if his parents weren't dead. If they were horrible people this would be so much easier… wouldn't it?

The bell rang and Chris snapped out of his thoughts. He was surprised to see Sawamura was already out the door and hurrying out of school. It was jarring to see the apathetic boy suddenly so quick.

It was weird seeing him so depressed.

Sawamura sat quietly at the bench by the carpool lane, waiting for Rei to pick him up. He was still on "paid leave" from the flower shop with the excuse that Kataoka didn't want him stressing himself out any more than he already was. His caretakers had to return to work (though Kataoka had been there on odd hours during the whole ordeal). Rei still promised to leave work to get him from school, apologetically telling him she'd have to go back afterwards.

The small car pulled up and Sawamura jumped in with his lighter-than-air backpack. Rei smiled at him, asking how his day was, disappointed to get the same answer: "It was fine."

They continued to drive in silence for a few minutes until Rei remembered Sawamura would be alone for the first time. "Sawamura, will you be okay being alone tonight? Tesshin and I wouldn't be home until nearly ten."

"Yes, I'll be okay."

"It's perfectly understandable if you want someone there."

Sawamura looked at Rei, confused. "Do you not trust me? I won't burn your house down, promise!"

Rei chuckled and patted his shoulder. "Just call us if you need anything, we'll be more than happy to come back home. There's some frozen dinners in the freezer you can make yourself tonight when you get hungry."

She pulled into the driveway and Sawamura got out alone and watched her as she backed out onto the street. He was actually alone now. It was new—he had never been alone at someone else's house before. Sawamura pulled the house key out and went inside, locking the door as he closed it.

The house was so quiet. It was a weird, booming silence that was practically white noise flooding Sawamura's ears. A whimper escaped his throat and it came crashing down on him; he never realized how much he hated being alone. Before it was scary because it was the calm before the storm, the waiting period, wondering when his mom would come home or his dad would wake up. Now he was just alone.

Kataoka and Rei were gone until ten and it was almost uncomfortable having such a regulated life now.

Sawamura wandered the house, trying to find something to do to calm his nerves or to distract himself. He could faintly remember his home when he was just a little kid, probably four-years-old. It was the same house he had always lived in, but new and perfect. That was before things fell apart, before the walls were decorated in sparkles of glass shards and specks of darkened blood.

It was haunting and the guilt built up in his stomach, resenting himself for only thinking of the bad times at his home. Frustrated with himself he angrily kicked a side table, gasping and sobbing quickly when a few of his broken toes smacked into the hard surface. Sawamura lost his balance and fell on his ass, tightly holding onto his foot, hoping to stop the blood and pain from rushing in.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Sawamura wailed to himself, eyes screwed shut. He stopped his weak sobs and breathed in deeply when the pain faded to a small throb. He opened his eyes again and looked at the table, amazed he could lose his temper like his father was so prone to. That really hurt, why the hell did he do that?

Right. Because he's an awful child to only think of the bad times. That was why.

Sawamura got back up and stumbled to his room, closing the door quietly out of habit. The bed felt so soft and welcoming to his somehow stiff body. He closed his eyes and hummed, annoyed when the bad thoughts came back. The thoughts that told him he was wasting everyone's time; that he wasn't worth the teachers' time at school, that he was a burden for living with his boss yet not working. It told him how ungrateful he was to think so lowly of his poor, dead parents and the home he used to have. There were homeless kids and parents who lock their children in basements or sheds, he should be happy for what he had!

He hummed louder, wanting to drown out the thoughts. They had been building up since the funeral and they wouldn't go away. He used to be able to sit down and draw anything and keep a blank mind. He was able to walk around the school and feel happy for no reason at all. He used to be excited for art class and be proud of his work. It wasn't fair. Why was he losing himself like this? Did everyone become this way after death? Why was he acting so hurt and Miyuki was fine? Probably, because Miyuki is not his real brother and not really part of Sawamura family.

But What was happening to him?

Sawamura sat up abruptly and placed his head in his hands. Deep breaths did nothing to ease his mind or calm him down. He used to draw or nap when he was upset but art became more work than it was worth and he had trouble sleeping without those pain meds Kataoka ran out of. Panic began to rise in his throat when he realized he had lost his only two methods of calming down and he had no idea what to do.

"Calm, calm," Sawamura's voice wavered. "Calm down, Eijun, calm…" He was almost shaking and brought his knees up to his chest to hold onto.

The action sent a wave of pain to his toes again and he inhaled sharply. They numbed down again, and it hit Sawamura: he felt better.

He actually felt a little calmer than he did a minute ago. The feelings paused while he sat there, curled up, deep in thought. He found something that helped! He didn't have to panic, he had a solution. That in itself brought him down from his trembling, but it didn't stop the pain stabbing at his heart.

Sawamura curled his toes in, wincing at the anticipated pain. He curled them as hard as he could before the pain erupted and forced him to relax his foot. A small wave of calm danced over his skin and he smiled. He curled his toes again, waited, relaxed. The feeling was too far from the emotional pain locked in his torso, so he reached his hand over to his left arm and pinched the skin with his nails. The pain wasn't as intense but it would work. He actually missed the pain and hurt he had got from his parents, so hurting himself is the best way to calm and relax himself.

After the bout of relaxation Sawamura laid his head back down and snuggled into the pillows. He felt drained from being upset so recently and had no trouble falling asleep.

The front door creaked open as Kataoka came into the dimly-lit house.

"Sawamura must be asleep already," he observed.

"Poor thing has been so tired lately," Rei added. "Do you think the bed's not comfy enough?"

Kataoka looked at Rei and she went quiet. They both knew it wasn't the case. Rei took note of the clean state of the kitchen, wondering if Sawamura ate at all or if he was just very cleanly. She frowned at the thought of him going hungry. While Kataoka entered the kitchen to get them a late dinner, Rei crept to Sawamura's door, opening it slightly to see his calm face and his little body wrapped up in the comforters.

At least he could sleep again.

"Hey, Sawamura, I want to talk with you."

Sawamura looked up from his desk, surprised that his senpai would initiate a conversation. The past two weeks were spent in awkward silence until now.

"What is it, Chris-senpai?"

Chris rubbed his neck nervously. "I wanted to know how you've been."

"I've been fine."

"Don't," Chris warned. "Don't try to give me some half-assed lie."

"But I'm not."

It was eerie how calm he was being again. Chris watched him for a moment, trying to figure him out. "We're friends, right?"

"Yes, we are, Chris-senpai."

"Then act like it."

Sawamura's eyes widened. "What?"

"I said act like it." The aggression faded from his tone and his face softened. "Sawamura, don't block me out, my friend. I know things are hard on you right now but it won't get better if you push your friends away."

Sawamura was shocked to hear such words from his senpai and friend. He was used to being reprimanded for stupid things like drawing cats all over his binders, not calmly reminded that he had friends to lean on.

"I just need to be alone, Chris-senpai." Sawamura murmured.

"You've been alone. You've isolated yourself for weeks and is it helping? Do you really feel better?"

He opened his mouth and closed it again. Chris had a point, he had to admit it was miserable not talking about his feelings like he used to be so prone to. He remembered last night, when he finally calmed down. Things will get better alone, they already started to!

"I do. Things are finally getting better. Don't ruin that."

Chris's jaw dropped at the sudden change in tone. "Fine. You can keep making yourself miserable, just remember I'm here when you need someone. Promise me you won't let things get too bad, Sawamura."

"I promise." Sawamura said softly.

Though he knew inside that he wouldn't be keeping that promise. They both knew.