*Rolls in with an update as if I didn't vanish for several months*
Happy Monday! I hope school is going well for everyone and to those out of school, hope everything is cool. Lol remember this fic? Sorry about that, I'll try to be consistent again. I've found a trick for editing too so there should be less little errors. We're getting into the thick of it now. Warning: Panic attack.
Alice in Wonderland Syndrome: "Most often, a perception of becoming physically smaller or physically larger in comparison to surroundings is the central detail. However, there may be an impression that a person's surroundings are growing or shrinking rather than the person himself. Other narratives include distortions in visual awareness, including the sense that fixed surroundings are moving." (neurology .com )
It's hard to breathe.
The air feels dense and his lungs are shrinking. Like he's caught in the wraps of a boa and his chest is being constricted.
What has he done.
They've stopped crowding around Kagami, backing up to give Riko some space, but they're still standing around them. They look worried; brows furrowed, hands on hips, and restlessly shifting about. He can't quite understand what they're saying, just sees their lips moving, and practically feels the vibrations in the air as they speak. Like a radio between frequencies, he's tuning in and out, picking up stray words between static, and the most prominent one is Bleeding.
Kagami is bleeding.
As if to further drive home the severity of this truth, he gets a clear view of his partner as they guide him to a bench. Blood. Bright red droplets streak his unfortunately white t-shirt, dripping from his nose and soaking into an equally white towel. It's staining his fingers – one hand pinching the bridge of his nose, the other holding the cloth - both painted with smears and rivulets of blood as he keeps his head down to let gravity do its work.
His throat is spasming, clenching so tight it feels like he's being strangled.
He can't breathe. He needs to leave. He needs to apologize. He needs to do something but his legs are locked and his thoughts are as fleeting as air, thin and insubstantial.
He can't breathe.
He swallows once, twice, as his eyes dart around the room searching for an exit he won't take. The locker room. The doors leading outside. All unreachable and taunting, appearing even further despite the walls inching closer in a sick funhouse effect. He can't breathe. They have Kagami seated and they're still standing by him concern, but they look less panicked. They're talking and Kagami is waving an arm about, probably communicating something in return.
He wants to go home. He wants to do something, anything and tries to- he's not sure, but he stumbles, trips and impacts the flooding with a resounding bam, landing on his hands and knees. It's jarring, making him sputter out quick, tiny coughs before returning to frantic gasps. He feels a tingling pressure on the parts that took the brunt of his landing, but he can't feel any pain. He feels the floor pounding beneath his palms, a personal earthquake to compliment his shaking vision. Footsteps, he realises, when he sees sneakers appear by his hand. He kind of wishes they stepped on his fingers and ground down on them. He kind of wants to bash his head against the floor to silence the unholy ringing that's muted everything else. Anything to distract him from the sheer terror that's consuming him.
He's- asthma attack?
He's having a- having a panic attack? Asthma?
It's been years since he's had a panic attack, and never this severe.
A hand touches his and his fingers curl away in recoil. His whole arm twitched but his hands remain where they are, lest they collapse and he fall onto his face like a broken table. He draws his eyes up, vision slightly impeded by the fringe of his hair but it's clearly (probably) Furihata crouching in front of him. His head feels as heavy as a bowling ball, and it's a strain on his neck but he lifts his head to look around. His teammates - all of them, even Kagami – are staring at him. They look scared, more fearful than when Kagami was first injured, yet thankfully everyone but Furihata is keeping their distance.
He can feel their eyes on him, crawling over his skin hot and focused like lasers.
Don't look.
Stop watching.
'Stop looking at me!'
Shame is making him burn hotter and he feels like an overworked engine, ready to combust at any moment. He's ready to melt, to fly apart piece by piece as he starts shaking. He wants to start clawing at his neck, start scratching at the fingers wrapped around his throat but now they've reached down his esophagus. He can feel them taking an iron grip around his lungs and he can't hear a thing over the tone blaring in his skull, but he can feel the wheezes rattling his chest.
...Now he knows he's having an asthma attack.
He's having an asthma attack!
He can't play such a rough sport with an inhaler in his pocket, so he keeps it in his gym bag. All the way in the locker room.
He's going to die here.
His legs fold under him and he's fittingly left almost in dogeza position, because he's so sorry he's ruining everything and he can't control himself. He's going to die here. He's going to die. He's going to suffocate on the gym floor in front of his friends, he's going to die because he can't breathe!
Someone is touching his face, their skin freezing against his as they tilt his head upward. It's Mitobe. He looks underwater, distorted, so he has no clue as to what kind of expression he's making, but he'd always recognise that blue piece of plastic he's holding up. His inhaler. He wants to start crying in relief but he's pretty sure he's already drooling and sweating, and that's more than enough body fluids leaking out. He leans back on his legs entirely and sits up a bit more to take his weight off of his arms. He reaches out to take the device but the actual movement lags behind his command, and if feels as if he's swimming but he manages to grab it. He gets it to his lips but his fingers are trembling far too much to actually administer it. He almost keens in relief when Mitobe takes the inhaler from his weakened grasp and holds it in place for him. His senpai then puts his other hand on his back, and rubs soothing circles as he as he pushes down the canister. But the aerosol is not very effective when he starts coughing.
He feels someone taking his hand again, but this time he doesn't fight them. He doesn't know who's holding him – his eyes just slipped closed, face tingling – but they place his palms against their chest. The inhaler is put back in his mouth but he's more focused on the chest his fingers are splayed against.
The rhythm of their breaths, deep and long. Expand. Hold. Contract. As he feels the ghost of an exhale skim across his wrist in strategic intervals, he realizes it's a breathing technique. Four seconds in. Pause. Four seconds out. He knows this. It feels impossible to breathe that steadily, but he needs his inhaler. It's incredibly hard, but he does manage to slow his rasping gasps, still much faster than his helper, but better. Mitobe tries again, and this time he manages to take in a lung full.
It's probably psychological – he knows it doesn't work that fast – but he can immediately feel his chest opening up again. The next dose comes easier, and he finally starts to calm down. After a third and final puff, while he's holding his breath he kindly guides Mitobe's hand and the inhaler out of his face. Just three seems like it should be enough. His hand is released, and Mitobe stops rubbing his back.
He exhales slowly and lowers himself on his side, arranging him limbs into something approximating the recovery position. He takes a moment to catch his breath, enjoying the soothing blackness behind his eyelids and the cold floor beneath him.
He should probably get up, but he's just too exhausted and sore after that ordeal. And now that's he's done panicking, it's becoming abundantly clear that he's blown the situation way out of proportion.
"Kuroko-kun?" It's Riko's voice. He can hear the scuff of her shoes as she comes closer, the sound of her knees hitting the ground as she crouches by his head.
He peels an eye open to acknowledge her.
She looks pale and frazzled. "Do you know what happened?"
"Asthma." He manages to wheeze.
"Do you know what caused it?" She inquires. He notes that she's still holding her clipboard and guessing by the pencil ready in hand, she plans on jotting down this information for future reference.
While he gathers more breath, he thinks about lying to her. It's a bit humiliating to just say 'I panicked,' and shrug like it happens all the time. He could easily say it was from all of the activity, because it does happen occasionally, but he doesn't like lying when it's not necessary. Instead, he just says, "Stress."
It's a bit vague, but still honest. An omission at worst. She doesn't write anything down at the moment, but he's certain she's going to analyze this at length later. For his sake, to make sure it doesn't recur, but he still hates the idea of anyone tip-toeing around as to not set him off again.
She hums noncommittally. "You weren't responding to us, so we got pretty worried. Could you hear us?" Tetsuya grunts a negative response, since he's unable to shake his head while on his side.
She looks dissatisfied with his answer. "I'm not sure how alert you were, so I'll just go over what happened. Furihata-kun was the first to notice you on the ground. As soon as we figured out you were having an asthma attack, I got your rescue inhaler." Front side pocket, just as he had told her in case of such an emergency. He's glad she was able to remember. "Mitobe said that he has a brother with asthma, and helped you with the inhaler. Furihata-kun said he knew some breathing techniques and tried to help too. It worked, and now we're here." She finished.
Ah. He owes everyone an apology for such a serious scare. Especially right after- He almost forgot.
"Kagami…kun?" He musters the energy to sit up and look for him, but Riko eases him back to the floor. Furihata and Mitobe are still sitting with them, and from here he can see the rest of the team watching from the other end of the gym where Riko likely banished them. Kagami is standing with them, rag still pressed to his face, but he hardly looks aware of his injury as he watches with everyone else.
"He's fine, just a bad nosebleed. He'll have a nasty bruise for a while, but nothing's broken. He's not going to die any time soon." She says dismissively before refocusing on him. "You're the number one concern right now. Is there anything else you need? Can you make it to the nurse's office? He should still be here."
"No thank you." Aside from watching him rest in the office or calling one of his parents, the nurse can't do anything that can't be done here. Which is essentially nothing.
Riko doesn't look pleased with his decision. "I would feel more comfortable if you saw a medical professional."
"He'll just tell me to rest and call him if I feel another attack coming on. Then I'll just take my inhaler again, and do the same thing until I go home." Well, he'll also perform an examination or two, but he feels well enough to believe a trip is unwarranted.
She still seems skeptical, but she relents despite her reservations. "Okay…is there anything you need right now?"
Tetsuya closes his eyes to consider his answer. All of that gasping left his mouth quite dry.
"Water please."
Mitobe stands and walks off court to fulfil his request, however his attention is brought back to Riko when she hums in consideration. "Did we do everything right? Mitobe pretty much took the lead, but I want to know if anything wasn't helpful." The pencil is poised in her hand, ready to write.
Oh. This must be what she wants to take notes on. That's incredibly considerate.
He can't think of any glaring mistakes. They didn't crowd him, got his inhaler in a timely fashion, and helped him regulate his breathing. If anyone said anything unfortunate he didn't hear it, so he has no complaints there either. But Riko won't be happy unless he gives some kind of critique. "No, everything was very helpful. This was a rather unfortunate exception, but usually I am able to get my inhaler on my own, and do not require extra assistance. My apologies for disturbing practice."
At this point Mitobe returns, and with two more items than requested. He pulls himself into a sitting position unimpeded this time, and gratefully accepts both the towel and water bottle handed to him. As he unscrews the cap and takes a deep drink - relishing the soothing cold of water down his irritated throat – a sweater is gently placed around Tetsuya's shoulders. It's far too large on him to be his own, so Mitobe must be lending it to him. It doesn't take him long to appreciate the article as it starts to retain his body heat, when he hadn't even noticed his cooling sweat had started to chill him. "Thank you Mitobe-senpai." He murmurs after lowering his drink, to which Mitobe answers with a kind smile and a nod. He wipes his face dry with the towel also provided, the terry cloth texture rough to the touch from many washes, but functional none-the-less.
Riko sighs. Or rather, she deflates in defeat. "I would rather you 'cause a disturbance,' than suffocate on the gym floor Kuroko-kun. Besides, with two injuries I think we should cut practice short while we're still somewhat ahead." She grumbles.
The news leaves him with a hollow sense of disappointment. However he's not sure if he's disappointed by her decision, or with himself. Nothing is going right today and he has no one to blame but himself, so he supposes that's his answer.
Riko continues to speak. "Are you okay to make it home, or do you need to be picked up?"
Oh god. The absolute last thing he wants to do is call his mother and explain what happened. He could call his father but no doubt he'll relay everything to her… "I will be fine to walk in a few minutes, I'm alright now." His chest has a lingering pain and he can feel a headache threatening to stab at his brain, but he should make it home in one piece if he's careful.
"Alright, but Kagami-kun's coming with you." The stubborn set of her jaw and the firm look in her eyes says that this isn't a request for him or Kagami.
"But he's injured." He argues regardless.
"His nose is pretty much done bleeding, and he said he feels fine aside from the bruising. Besides, I think he's going to follow you anyways." She's right. He knows she's right. Kagami would rather walk him home and make sure he's alright himself than wonder if he made it there without incident. He would probably carry him on his back all the way to his house if he asked, even if it were accompanied with grumbles and complaints. If he weren't so open about his affection at times, he would be a bigger tsundere than Midorima.
There's no helping it.
"Okay."
She nods her approval. "Good. Now let's hit the showers."
"I'll be there in a minute." Says Tetsuya before he takes another sip of water. His legs feel too weak and jittery right now, maybe in a few moments he'll be able to stumble to his feet.
"Alright. Let's go you two." She says as she stands to leave.
Surprisingly, Furihata protests as well. "Um, actually, I, uh. If it's okay with Kuroko-kun, I'd like to wait with him?" He inflection turns it into a nervous question rather than a request, but Tetsuya doesn't see why not. When Riko turns to him for an answer, he shrugs his permission and she returns the gesture in kind.
"Alright, Mitobe-kun?" It appears that he feels no need to linger himself when he shakes his head and rises next to her. But before he leaves he returns the inhaler to its owner, who holds onto it with a tight grip. "Take your time Kuroko-kun." After that, she and Mitobe return to the other side of the gym. From here Tetsuya can hear her – and Koganei occasionally chiming in as Mitobe's proxy – filling in the rest of the team. They still glance at him with concern in intervals but they look much less frightened now that they're better informed, and file back into the locker room to get cleaned up.
All is silent as the three of them watch the rest of the team shuffle away.
Riko turns to them. "I'll be packing up, so I'll be in and out of the storage room. Yell if you need me." She says as she scoops up the ball and grabs a stack of pylons using the other arm.
He considers telling Furihata he's ready to go even though just the thought of the trek home fills him with exhaustion, but clearly his teammate has something to say and he shouldn't make it harder. "Was there something you wanted to talk about Furihata-kun?"
He's startled by the question. "Er, uh. Kinda? I just…" Tetsuya waits as he thinks. "I…think I get it?"
He makes sure to convey his confusion through a blank stare. Get what?
It only serves to make Furihata more flustered. "I-I mean I can sympathize. With your asthma. I know it's not the same thing, and I'm not actually going to die from an anxiety attack, but I've heard they're pretty similar? I don't know." He rambles, eyes darting along the floor, tracing the court lines as if they had a script. "I-I just wanted you to know that it's okay, and nobody's mad at you or anything. Like, you're not a burden or something. A-And um, I just wanted to make sure you're okay because after I have an attack, I kinda just shut down for a while…Though I guess your thing is more physical, so sorry if I'm just, saying stuff…uh," He lets out a quick chuckle that further belies his discomfort. "So, uh…"
He's not sure if Furihata is going to wind down without intervention, so Tetsuya speaks up while his monologue hits a lull. "Thank you for your assistance Furihata-kun, it would have taken me a while longer to breathe correctly if you hadn't been there."
His teammate flushes red at his words. "I-It was nothing! I-I would've asked if it was okay to touch you but you weren't answering, and I kinda zone out sometimes too and I find touch really grounding when I'm panicking, so I just thought it would help." The way he's wringing the bottom of his shirt seems to be a prime example. "Sorry if that made you uncomfortable."
"It's fine. I'd like to apologize for putting you in such a stressful situation." He responds with a slight bow of his head.
"There's no need, it's not your fault. None of it was! I-In fact, I probably gave you a bad pass, which messed everything up…" He mutters, but then shakes his head and continues. "These things happen. Honestly it's amazing this didn't happen sooner with the way you pass- I-I didn't mean there's something wrong with your technique! It just doesn't look like you have a firm grip on the ball, not that that would be ideal when you're passing. Because, you know, you have to get rid of the ball quickly, especially with your misdirection. I-I just meant…that it must be hard to always be so accurate when you high-five the ball- I'm…just. Stopping now. Sorry" Furihata shuts his mouth with an audible clack and though he's silent, his eyes are still screaming his regrets.
High-five the ball? He really shouldn't, but he can't help but laugh at Furihata's clumsy attempt at comfort. It's nothing more than a soft chuckle, but the remnant of a smile on his face is enough to give him away. "Thank you very much Furihata-kun. I'm feeling better already."
He seems to spend another moment reading Tetsuya's face for any signs of a negative emotion before letting a relieved grin overtake his features. "I'm glad."
He shouldn't keep Kagami waiting. It leaves him feeling light-headed, but Tetsuya clamours to his feet in a relatively smooth motion. With Mitobe's jacket still draped over his shoulders he sort of feels like Akashi. It even reminds of the time in middle school when he and his old teammates took turns doing impressions of him. "Let's get changed." Furihata nods in agreement.
"Feel better Kuroko-kun!" Shouts Kiyoshi as the team parts ways. It prompts everyone else to yell the same thing in variations, their voices overlapping into a slightly garbled noise, each individually heart-warming despite their simultaneous delivery.
Kuroko simply smiles to himself and waves as he starts walking home. Kagami is next to him, remaining quiet. He already took another dose of his inhaler before they left, his scarf is double looped and pulled up under his eyes, but the cold air still doesn't go down easy.
"Are you sure you're alright?" Asks Kagami for the third time. He had inquired about his health as soon as he had entered the change room with the rest of the team, and then again right before they left the gym. "Yes Kagami-kun, I'm certain." Sort of. He doesn't carry around his peak flow meter either, but he feels well enough. "Are you sure your face is alright?"
Kagami still has a towel wrapped cold compress held to his face, a new one that's significantly less bloody, but it worries him that it's still bleeding at all. "I'm fine. Coach said I was lucky it didn't break, it's going to bruise like a bitch though. Argh, Valentine's day…" He grumbles.
Valentine's Day. He ruined Kagami's face for Valentine's Day.
Perfect.
"Hey, come on. I didn't mean anything by that, I just remembered it's tomorrow is all. I'm really okay, I have a hard head, remember?" He adds with a teasing grin.
Still, he can't help but feel a twist of guilt. "None the less, I am very sorry for my carelessness Kagami-kun."
Kagami rolls his eyes. "Geez, I've had worse Kuroko. Relax, everything's cool. 'Sides, I should've caught that." That's a very…Kagami way to think of it.
He could think of many counter-arguments to his opinion, but somehow his stomach unclenches at Kagami's reassurance and he's willing to let it go for now. It's quiet. He allows the tension in his muscles to slacken, and tries to hold on to that feeling of relief before he starts thinking about the other psychological burdens pressing down on him. Like the math test.
"So…that was an asthma attack." drawls Kagami. He pulls away the cloth to check his nose – grimacing as he gets a spot of blood on his wool gloves – then presses the ice pack to his face again.
"Yes. I'm usually able to prevent full attacks but I was caught off guard. It won't happen again." It's not exactly something he can promise, but he'll make sure to step outside before it reaches that point again.
"Huh. It's a good thing we had Furihata and Mitobe-senpai, everyone was kind of freaking out. Coach too, she stopped Kiyoshi-senpai from calling an ambulance."
An ambulance would've been a bit much in this case, but it's nice to know even Kiyoshi had been trying to assist from the side. "They were very helpful." He's particularly impressed with Furihata though. He's familiar with anxiety and it's obvious that Furihata's is much worse. He's stronger than anyone – even Furitata himself – gives him credit for by pushing through that to help him. He really does have amazing teammates. Kagami doesn't press for further conversation after that, and it allows Tetsuya to conserve his energy for the rest of the walk home. It's not really that far or strenuous when compared to the training they undertake every other day, but by the time his house is in slight his legs feel liquid and his eyelids like lead. He's pretty tempted to just ditch his homework and go right to bed, but that would be next to impossible after his parents find out about this test.
They still have about two blocks to go when Tetsuya stops and turns to his companion. "This is far enough. Thank you for accompanying me Kagami-kun. I know it's quite out of your way." He gives a quick bow.
Kagami scratches the nape of his neck and looks away. "It's whatever Kuroko. It'd bother everyone if you walked home alone after that. If I didn't come, I'm sure one of our senpai would've volunteered, or something. I live closest anyways." He shrugs. "See you tomorrow?"
He nods and Kagami flashes him a grin before turning away, J-walking across the empty street and doubling back the way they came. "Take care!" Tetsuya hears him shout with a wave.
He returns the gesture with much less vigour.
Alone.
With every step towards his house he feels that same dread coiling tighter in his gut. With practice finished early only his father should be the only one home at the moment, and that's easy to deal with. She's not home yet, so he has time to prepare. Everything's going to be fine. For a bit. He finds his pace slowing as he draws nearer, and ironically the cold wind is all that keeps him from freezing in place before he crawls to his front door. He pulls the key out of his coat pocket, and just stands there on the porch for a moment.
Home sweet home.
It's a particularly strong gust of cold air burning the exposed parts of his face that incites him to do the deed and unlock the door. It's warm inside and the enticing aroma that promises a hot meal draws him further in, settles his nerves with its familiarity. His father rarely cooks dinner and there was hardly ever a need for him to with Halmeoni around, so it's nice to see he's taken up the task without prompting.
"I'm home!" He calls, and at the sound of his voice Nigou comes sprinting to greet him. With him jumping around so excitedly it's hard for Tetsuya to give him a good scratch, so he settles for a quick back rub in greeting.
"Welcome home Tetsuya!" He hears his father reply. He sheds his coat and boots, then trudges to the kitchen with his bag still in hand. "I'm surprised you're home early." He says as he stirs the pot. All of his hair is tied back out of his face, and he's wearing a light blue apron. The one with a cute cartoon bunny on the bottom, holding out its little fingers in a V-sign.
'I'm surprised your home at all,' is the snide comment that automatically comes to mind, but if he wants any allies tonight it's best he keeps his mouth shut. "Practice was cut short. What are you making?"
"Oden. Right, how was practice."
Tetsuya sits at the table kitchen table, watches his father taste the soup stock and dash in some seasoning. "It was fine."
A simple hum. "And school? Everything still good?"
"Um, fine, but…" He's not sure how to properly segue 'fine,' to 'I failed a test,' so he just takes the plunge. "I didn't do very well on a test we had last week. Could you please sign it?" Don't ask questions, don't ask questions-
"Sure thing, just study harder next time."
Tetsuya has never heard sweeter words. "Thank you." He says as he retrieves the test, and quickly hands it to his father face down. His father accepts it, and immediately places it on the empty counter space next to him.
Despite the implications his lingering presence, it seems his father is determined to ignore his silent plea and continues to cook, slowly peeling a daikon radish without a care. Is…he not going to sign it? Tetsuya hovers for a bit longer before realizing his mistake. He fishes out his pencil case and returns with a pen in hand. "Sorry, here."
"Oh, thanks. I'll get it back to you after dinner." His father says absently, more focused on reading the next steps of the recipe.
He keeps his expression passive, but internally he grimaces. She'll be home by then…The thought of waiting that long is making him antsy, but asking him to sign it right now instead would be rude…A silent sigh of defeat, Tetsuya packs his things and retreats to his room. After Nigou slips inside he eases his bedroom door shut, and collapses onto his bed. Deflate seems to be a better descriptor as all of his aches and pains become apparent, and sap the remaining strength out of him. The muscles in his chest hurt and he feels a bit congested, but he considers it a victory when the previously lurking headache fails to develop on top of it all. There is a beat of absolute stillness as he stares blankly at the ceiling.
…
Today has just been garbage.
Between his rather insufficient lunch – which he had hastily thrown together this morning, once he belatedly realized that no one else was going to pack it – and the panic attack which exacerbated his asthma, today is just irredeemable. And it's not even over.
He's tired.
It's very tempting to let his eyes slide shut and allow the weight of his bones to hold him in place, but he can't rest yet. He still has math problems to solve and a chapter to finish reading for Japanese Literature. As a sort of compromise to himself, he chooses to dig out the book and read to pass the time. He tried reading I Am a Cat back in middle school at Midorima's recommendation, but as a fan of dogs and plot progression, it took him longer than usual to finish. Of course he has to read it with far more scrutiny this time as well if he wants to write a good essay, though it still isn't quite a chore with its mildly interesting themes. Unfortunately he read a majority of the assigned pages during lunch in lieu of eating, so in a brisk half-hour he's left with nothing to do but math. It's right as he cracks open the textbook at his desk he hears a knock on his door. It's his father.
"Tetsuya? Dinner is ready. Your mother is home as well." His voice is muffled through the barrier, and Tetsuya listens to his fading footsteps as he likely returns to the kitchen.
This is it.
He reluctantly shuts his book and sets his work aside. Nigou, who has been dozing in a corner perks up as he rises to his feet and stretches. As soon as he steps out into the hall the smell of oden is much thicker in the air, warm and comforting. Howevery the soft clink of china against table, and the shadowy murmur of conversation drifting towards him much more abrasively. The physical sensations of anxiety start to hit him, creeping up like a rising tide as he realizes it's about to start. But this isn't as sudden as hitting Kagami in the face, so he has no problem squishing it down, retreating from the deep end to gether his barings. It's little more than a chore to take a few deep breaths and draw all unruly emotions into his gut, where they sit cold and heavy, but contained. He stops in the doorway, where he's pinned under the intensity of his mother's gaze. The table is already set and his mother is seated, still wearing the suit she wore to work but the jacket is missing, presumably put away, leaving her in a fine white dress shirt that's tucked into black pants. His test is sitting right in front of her, fourty-seven shining boldly from even across the room.
Deep breath.
"Welcome home Mother."
"Hello Tetsuya, how was school?" She asks coolly. Her face, still painted with makeup is as smooth as a porcelain mask. There is no correct answer.
"It was fine. How was your day?" He subtly avoids her eyes, pretends to be tracking Nigou as he scampers under the table and sniffs at his mother's bare foot.
"Fine as well, thank you," She answers disinterestedly before pressing on. "Your father handed this to me just a moment ago." She picks up the packet. "Are you having trouble at school?"
He feels a flash of irritation geared towards his father. He couldn't have just signed it. He swallows it back. "No, I just couldn't focus. I kept thinking about the…funeral." The word feels like ash on his tongue.
Nigou trots out from under the table, leaves the kitchen entirely to complete some unknown task.
She frowns, holding the sheet eyelevel as she reads over the questions and his answers. "But it doesn't look like you even tried. You made mistakes on basic division a few times. Can you even walk me through your thought process? Some of these answers don't make any sense." Her frown deepens and she sets the paper down with palpable disappointment.
He feels nauseous as he chokes down shame, and his throat burns with his effort to keep his voice steady. "I did the best I could at the time. If you would like, I can show you the study sheets I've completed."
She shakes her head, and something slackens. "No, I'll believe you. I told you to stay home for a few days. Your teacher would have understood and let you take the test later. You need to know your limits Tetsuya, and not just the physical ones." She chastises.
"Sorry." He apologizes as he sits at the table. His father comes to join them, setting the large pot of oden in the middle, with smaller bowls of kimchi and rice already in place.
"Don't apologize, just try to do better next time." It's an odd contrast. Her voice is so gentle, but her words scrape against something soft. She signs the front page with a flourish using the very same pen he lent his father.
The weight of her words settle uncomfortably heavy on his shoulders.
Be better next time.
Once everyone has their first serving of food and the taste of their previous conversation is washed from his mouth, he ponders how to bring it up. He's not sure how they're going to celebrate New Year's without Halmeoi. This is their first family dinner without her and he's trying not to think about her empty chair, or the way everything goes silent every now and then, like the pause between tracks on an old record.
"How's your brother been?" Asks his father.
She gets that pinched look on her face. "Same as usual, giving me a headache. But I don't want to get into that." She shakes her head before continuing to eat.
His father grunts, then takes a sip of broth.
...
The refridgerator hums and chairs creak.
Quiet.
He thinks about the other night, sitting here with Shige. Surrounded by darkness with nothing but the overhead light and sweetness on his tongue, the past finally hunting him down after its dogged chaase. Tetsuya swallows once, twice, then speaks. "What are we doing tomorrow?" His inquiry is answered with a loaded silence and a shared look between his parents, a wordless conversation being held over him.
His mother is their designated mouthpiece. "I'm not sure. Thanks to your uncle I'm going to be very busy for the next few days, and your father's planning to get some work done at the office. Besides, without Halmeoni…" She trails off.
But if anything, Halmeoni's death should be an incentive. "She would've wanted us to celebrate."
"Tetsuya, even she didn't make a big deal about it. We always just have a nice dinner and talk like any other night. I'm sorry, but your father and I have work to do."
"Surely you hadn't anticipated Halmeoni's death. You must have booked the time off like normal." He argues, but she looks unwilling to budge and his father still refuses to speak.
His mother carefully sets down her chopsticks while his father absently stirs his bowl. "Tetsuya, I'm not saying we should forget about it because she's dead. We don't know all the rites, and we don't know the recipes for the food either. This is a busy part of the year, and we need you to understand that we can't always find the time."
'You never have the time.' "Father has made jeon before, and we've been celebrating for so many years that we know enough." His father has been suspiciously silent so far.
"Seollal isn't a national holiday in Japan Tetsuya, so I can't just drop everything. Maybe your father can stay home, but I have things to do. Besides, after seeing this test score I really think you need a good night's sleep so you can focus at school. And don't you have basketball practice too? I don't think your coach would be happy if you showed up too tired to play." She counters.
He doesn't even have practice tomorrow, but that's besides the point. He has no response that would sway her opinion in the slightest, and the silent frustration makes him burn. He can't stop his lips from pursing the slightest bit as his bites his tongue.
Finally, his father looks up and meets his gaze intending to engage in the canversation. "To tell you the truth, she didn't start celebrating again until she moved in with us. She just…wanted a piece of home, and taught you what she could to make up for lost time. I understand you have fond memories and you're free to continue certain habits, but personally…I'm rather indifferent. You aren't obligated to uphold her expectations either." Something inside of him stirs in malcontent. Every now and then, he gets the strangest feeling when they lock eyes, the barest hint of a fight-or-flight response from its gravity. It's different kind of intensity from his mother's steel grey, less like a specimen under observation and more like an offspring on the cusp of challenging its sire. As if they walk a fine line between adversaries and allies despite the fact that they've never clashed head-on. The tension of uncertainty is a constant undercurrent between them recently.
"I know." Tetsuya whispers rather gruffly. He isn't exactly surprised by his response. His father generally takes a rather indifferent approach to most things, except perhaps when he's had a few drinks. He can feel a pressure mounting as he tries to keep calm. He wants to get angry, he wants to point out that it's not right that they've silently resolved to erase Halmeoni from their lives now that she's no longer here, but he keeps silent. He lost his appetite during the exchange, but he's aware he needs the physical nourishment after today, so he forces it down regardless. It still tastes savoury and delicious, but it sits in his stomach like a rock.
The atmosphere is thick, cluttered with loud thoughts unsaid, but no one tries to clear the air.
After dinner, he is allowed to retreat to his room since his father volunteered to take care of the dishes. He feels exhausted all over again. A different kind of weary that makes any kind of effort seem pointless. If he just gets a few questions completed he can leave the rest for lunch and work with Kagami, who will surely appreciate the company and assistance.
Two quick knocks, and his door swings open. He hardly has time to sit up in his chair and look awake when his mother steps just past the doorframe. "Tetsuya." She greets with business-like impersonality, her hands even clasped behind her back.
He nods her greeting in return before she continues. "I want you to understand that I'm not trying to punish you. This is a hard time for the whole family, so we need to work together now more than ever. But the last thing she would've wanted is for us to put everything on pause, and I think she would be disappointed to find out that you've started letting your grades slip."
That feels like a punch in the gut. It leaves him both breathless, and hungry to retaliate. He probably knows better than her just how Halmeoni would've felt about this. She would be disappointed about it, but she would've understood that he really did try, and she would've asked what was wrong and held him until he felt better. She would've disapproved of staying up so late on a school night with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, and she would've stayed up to celebrate together. She would've called him in sick if he looked tired enough because she had faith that he was a good student, and would work hard to catch up. She obviously wouldn't have wanted him to shut down, but she would've understood that he needs time. It's a tremendous effort to keep his face calm, but he clenches a fist at his side, hidden behind his profile from where she stands. It's almost too great, too hot to push down, but he shrinks his sudden burst of rage. It would've been unwarranted and problematic if he suddenly lost it. She did insist that he take time off, but he wanted to go to school anyways. He knows that she's ultimately correct, and he's somewhat in the wrong here.
He nods.
She stares at for a moment, silently appraising him before she sighs. "It's just one test, so I'll forget it this time." She brings her hands to the front to present his signed papers. He stands to retrieve it, but just as he takes a hold of one corner, her grip tightens. She waits until he looks her in the eyes, the weight of her stare falling on him heavier than a brick of silver. "We know you're a bright kid." Likely, it's supposed to be praise, but the way she whispers makes it sound like a conspiracy, as if it's something he's trying to hide.
'We know what you are, and we are coming for you.'
She releases the paper.
He takes a step back.
"…keep studying, but get some sleep before it's late. I'll see you tomorrow, goodnight." And with that she backs out into the hall, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
He's left standing there, feeling weak in the knees and sick to his stomach with stress. Breathing heavily and feeling hot in the face as if he's just completed some herculean task. Numbly, he shuffles back to his desk and collapses into his chair, blankly staring at the pages in front of him. His arm lays limp by his side and the test slips from between his clammy fingers, glidding against the flood with a quiet hiss. But he pays it no mind and he picks up his pencil with the other hand.
He swallows once, twice, and valiantly tries not to stain his homework with tears.
He fails.
Hopefully this story is as good as you remember. If you want to poke at me if I've been quiet for too long, or want to see previews or research notes, I started a side-blog on tumblr called berry-cat7 to post stuff on. My main blog (never-gunna-give-memes-up) is just memes and various different anime. More details at berry-cat7, but feel free to leave suggestions or chat!
