I never shoved clothes on so fast in my life. I am mortified, not only to the fact that my father is back home, but the fact that he could walk in my room at any moment and I know exactly how that would end. Horribly.
I can feel my skin crawl as the once melting heat clothing both Daichi and I is replaced by the cold truth of reality.
Why is he here?! Why is he here!?
Shouldn't he be in jail or something!? Anywhere but here! Why? Why!? WHY!?
Daichi and I are both quiet in racing fear as we listen to my father's muffled gurgles and slurs of sentences which I'm most certain is nothing PG in the slightest judging by the tone of his gruff voice echoing throughout the house.
My eyes glaze over to Daichi, I can tell he is as afraid as I am with his eyes flickering and shaky. He may seem tough and strong, but even the most amazing of people can be afraid. I reach out and tangle my fingers into his own, feeling him jump and turn towards me. What do we do.
I don't have my board, meaning no communication. I feel nothing but lost.
"SUGA! I know you're here! Why else would your fucking shoes be here, you fucking dumb Ass!" I hear my father shout in an odd strain of anger.
I listen closely. Something is off.
I look around my room, scanning for some sort of form of communication, anything that's big enough to write on. I spot one of my journal books thrown in the far corner of my room, quickly jumping up and releasing my grasp on Daichi I tiptoe over and grab the book. I grab a pen from my desk and tiptoe back over to the bed with Daichi starring wordlessly at me. I scribble down on the book cover testing the pen before writing on a fresh page.
Daichi I'm going down.
His eyes immediately widen in fear as he watches me write. He squeezes my left thigh making me jump and blush. God now's not the time.
"I can't let you go again you know that!" Daichi whispers closely into my ear his hand squeezing me tighter. He seems to have lost all concept of personal space as I feel his breath tickle the lobe of my ear. I shoot him a look before continuing my writing.
We can't stay here Daichi, he'll find us and we'll get into even more trouble. I know what happened last time but, something is different Daichi, I don't know what. But, for the few encounters I've had with my father I never heard him speak proper sentences while drunk.
Daichi wraps his arms around my torso, earning him a squeak from me. He snuggles his head into the crevasse of my neck, gliding his nose along the bite marks I've received earlier.
"How about I go! Please! I don't want you hurt again." He murmurs in a puff.
I lift his chin from my neck glueing his eyes into my own. I know Daichi well, he much rather protect then be protected, he would do anything to prevent the injuring of others. However, as much as I love being guided and lead by Daichi, I need to make my own stance, I'm just as much of a man as Daichi is and I want to prove that to not only him and my father, but to myself.
I take a deep breath through my nose sharply before pecking Daichi's lips briefly and shaking my head in a silent no. I watch his eyes melt in hurt and nerves, I know he's scared for my health and well being, and I love him so much for that.
I take the board again and begin writing.
Daichi, I love you. Thank you. Now please stay here and be quiet.
As he finishes reading I push off the bed and give Daichi a shaky grin from the door. He looks as if he wanted to cry, I know he wouldn't, but it still breaks my heart to see his face. I know he understands though, I know he knew that he couldn't go down before he even suggested it. I put my finger to my lips, ushering him to be quiet. He nods hesitantly and as I take a deep breath I quietly open the door of my room.
I walk silently down the stairs straight into my father who was staring at a old picture on the wall. I groan inwardly as I realize the picture his eyes seem to trace. A picture that has always disgusted me, yet one I never had the heart to take down.
A picture of my family.
It's a simple picture of just the three of us with a blue background, but it made it seem like our family hasn't ever been broken.
As my feet touch the old wood floor, it murmurs a hollow creek catching my father's attention. My breath catches and I stand there for a second, as if a deer in head lights. I take a shaky breath and I continue to approach him cautiously, pressing up my journal to my stomach in an aching fear he would hit me again as hard as the last. However, he just looks at me for a moment as if confused, he watches me closely before curving his lips into an odd smile. It looks as if he hasn't smiled in months with the strained way he pulls his lips and the overly hunched way he carries himself. What's wrong?
"Look who finally decided to fucking show up!" He gurgles.
Something is definitely off.
"What the hell do you have to say for your fucking self Suga!" He laughs airily, as if it were a joke. I am just a few feet before him before I stop walking.
I watch him with great caution eyeing his sluggish movements and odd mood.
I flip over my book and start writing on a clean page. I make sure to write largely, to avoid any unnecessary anger. He's oddly quiet as I write, almost feels as if he's watching me like a caged lion in a zoo. As if he's enjoying the fact I feel trapped and terrified.
I feel my hands clam and my writing may be big but it is horribly messy as my hand shakes.
I might have had confidence walking down before him, but now that I'm here all I want is to go back and pretend this is all a morbid nightmare. As I finish, I turn it towards him for him to read. His glassy eyes lick the page in a squint, as if he's trying to set it in flames.
He begins to read it out loud. "'Sorry I didn't come down, I just woke up. What brings you home dad?'"
I mentally gag at the word 'dad' as if he's ever been my father figure.
However, thankfully, he seems to buy my sleeping in lie as he growls a response, "What the heck with the board Suga! Are you scared or something?! Scared I'll hit you again!? What?! You can't talk or-" he stops. His voice chocking on his words before unexpectedly slamming his fist to the wall beside him. I am utterly shocked, I'm not sure how to even respond.
Is he mad at me or ... what's going on!?
I watch him carefully ,unsure of what I am witnessing, as his eyes glaze over even more so. Is it from the alcohol or...
I catch my breath as tears begin to roll down his alcohol and dirt stained face.
My father is crying.
MY FATHER is crying?
MY FATHER IS ACTUALLY CRYING?!
I stand there in awe. I am terrified to say the least. I never knew my father too well, but I know he is not a man to show much emotion. He glares at me, but stands in place. I'm surprised I'm still standing here to be honest, untouched and unhurt. It's new, but very much welcomed.
But why is he crying?
Why is he here?
Why is he acting so weirdly?
Why is-
He lifts his hand from its place on the wall, I can almost trace where exactly his skin split open in impact, but instead of guiding it towards me for a beating I watch as he traces his finger delicately over the frame.
And at this moment I truly understood what's going one. I scribble a sentence on my notepad quickly and tiptoe closer to my dad. Only a little.
I flip it over, and cautiously wait for him to turn to me. I didn't dare have the confidence to touch him or get any closer. I'm surprising myself by even being down here. His gaze longs on the old frame for a few moments before noticing my closer presence and turning over and reading.
You saw mom, didn't you?
And he finally broke down. His sobs are ugly and oh so bitter sweet. Here we both stand like all our confrontations, however this time, he's the one crying.
I know my mother is a sore subject with him. As I don't think I ever remember a time when they seemed happy together, they were at each others throats all the time. My father mad at my mother's frequent disappearances, while my mother mad at my father's drinking and anger problems. No one was ever happy in my family. However, despite it all everything seemed to break down when my father began disappearing as well. I don't think my family was ever meant to be.
I almost choke out a scream as he wraps his arms around me. Causing me to drop my board and pen in fright. At first I thought he's finally trying to strangle me to death, but his movements are much more relaxed and unguarded, what is he doing?
I finally understand as I feel his tears begin to stain my shoulder.
He's hugging me. He's actually hugging me?!
His arms are pressed into my back as if I'm an amazing support that he never wants to let go of. As if I'm the only thing left.
This feels surreal, I always longed for some sort of connection with my family, however I never expected it to be a hug from my 'dad'. I would have expected him to be the last person to ever hug me.
I stand there awkwardly, unsure if I should be hugging back or not.
I don't think I'll ever be ready to hug him so innocently.
"Suga, why am I such a fucking idiot. Why the fuck was she here. Why the fuck did I leave her!" He sobs into my shoulder. I could ask you the same thing.
My nose is pierced with his stench of gutters and alcohol, I am close to gagging, yet I stand my ground, mostly afraid of what would happen if my stiff do movements falter.
After the excruciatingly long and scary hug, my father unravels himself from me.
"I'm a fucking idiot." He says in a sob staring straight into my eyes. His eyes are blurry and tear stained, but they are much more alive and roaming. I take this as a note of he's not actually drunk. Or rather not as drunk as usual. Maybe.
I don't answer from the fear of his response, and thankfully it doesn't seem like he was expecting one anyways.
"Let me guess, I fucking did this to you as well. I'm a fucking screw up." He gutters looking into my eyes. I put my hand to my throat. Though being mute didn't begin until Daichi's final blow to my throat, my father was indeed the one who caused the most damage. I don't answer again and let my gaze fall slightly before shakily bringing them back up to my father's stare. Don't hurt me please.
He yells in a frustrated manner, and slams both of his fists into the wall. A sickening crack echoes throughout the now quiet room, and for some reason I pray that it was the wall that broke rather then my father's hands.
"Suga, I'm just a fucking asshole. Why do I do anything anymore. Why do I even try." He sobs. It's disgusting, depressing and all together not a situation I want to be in right now. I watch him cry, and despite it all, I feel a tug of sadness in my chest.
No! He beat me up! He treated me like garbage and left me to die as a child! He doesn't deserve my pity!
I gaze at the family picture again, if only it were true.
"Suga!" He whispers as he stares emptily at a wall. I shift my eyes gently to his form hunched over and fists in the wall.
"Suga..." He says again in monotone.
I jump slightly in fear as he turns to me again and stands up from his position on the wall.
"Suga, I'm sorry..." He says it so quietly I'm almost certain I misheard him. But I didn't dare ask again.
Did he just? Did he just say sorry?
"I'm so, so sorry, I never meant to leave you all alone as a child. I was a fucking idiot. I'm so fucking sorry. I tried so hard to be a good dad at first, but it all went down the fucking drain." He sobs as his gaze is glued downwards in shame. I stand there in awe.
Don't let him get to you, don't let him get to you. This is all a trick. This can't be him.
"Suga I just came for the last time to give you something." His tone is surprisingly quiet and serious. What does he want? What's wrong?
He scuffs one of his hands down into his ratty old coat and steps over closer to me. I'm terrified but I stand still eyes wide and mouth shut.
He gently grabs one of my hands at my side, I watch as he reveals his other hand from his coat pocket and places a small worn out baseball into my hand.
I look up at him confused, and I stand there without a word.
"Happy 6th Birthday Suga..." And for the first time he smile genuinely tears still cloudy his eyes. And I can't help but feel my own water up and run softly down my cheeks.
I stare down at the baseball, my other hand covers my mouth trying my best to stop the tears from flowing.
"I don't know if you remember but I still remember when we use to play catch a bit, and I thought this would be helpful" he laughs humourlessly.
"I said I would be back to give you your birthday present the day before I left. And, and. And I'm so fucking sorry." He echoes another laugh without reason.
"I'm sorry for all the times I let you down Suga." I jump as he pats my head, weaving his large hand through my hair. I look back into his eyes. I never looked at my father without so much fear engulfing me. It's an odd feeling and I'm not sure what to make from his words. However, before I could even think of a response he lifts his hand and shoves both of them in his pocket.
"Bye." And like that he walks out of the house into the barren streets.
I stand there tears still streaming, and I don't know what to think anymore, what to say, what to do. I choke up one more time, staring at the closed door of the house.
"Bye." I croak out to no one but myself.
And after all that, I feel nothing but empty.
_
I'm so sorry guys! I know I'm a terrible person who never updates! And I know this chapter sucks! I'm so sorry for the lateness, but I've been having writing blocks, but I finally broke free of that prison today. I wrote this in less then an hour and a half so it probably has a crap ton of mistakes. But, I hope you still like it! Thank you to all of you still reading this excuse of a story, because to be honest, I don't even know what I'm doing anymore. Again please let me know where the mistakes are if and when you find them! Thank you everyone!
-Alex