The air was tinged with a sweet and savory smell mixed with the scent of unidentified frying foods. The streets were loud and the "park", which was more of a glorified parking lot with grass growing through the cracked asphalt, had neighborhood kids scream laughing and dog piling each other. There were rickety benches set up near the tables that were scattered near the row of food carts that we had ended up at.

Glancing up at Gojo, I was expecting him to look somewhat wary at the string of mostly junk food on wheels. But, of course not. He didn't look out of place at all. In fact, he looked engaged and at ease at the shabby park. I had a feeling that I could drop him just about anywhere in the world and not only would he survive but he would absolutely thrive.

I must have been assessing him for too long because his gaze cut from the carts and focused on me.

"Are you thinking about my offer to be your lover? Because we could start by being the sort of couple that feeds each other," he offered with a teasing tone.

I'd already been caught staring at him so I continued to while trying to put my finger on what exactly he reminded me of. It finally clicked and I snapped my fingers at the thought.

"That's what you remind me of," I said while shaking a finger in his direction, "you remind me of someone that could be a cult leader."

The playful expression that seemed to be consistently etched on his face grew more pronounced as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Utahime would get a kick out of that."

"Because it's true?"

"Rina," he drawled my name in a way that made my stomach dip. "Even if it was, you wouldn't have what it takes to join."

"Here's what you need to know...you can't handle the life that comes with what you experienced last night. If you were, I'd tell you everything. But, you're not."

The memory of his cutting words from our last parting conversation felt like an unexpected kick to the stomach.

Suddenly, I wasn't in such a joking mood anymore. And maybe we had never really been joking at all. Maybe I had been, but more than likely he was still looking down on me. Looking at me like someone who was a liability and a burden.

And, really…..who's to say that he's wrong?

"Yeah, you're probably right," dismissing the conservation and stepping forward I assessed the array of choices that were offered.

Turning to ask Gojo for his opinion I realized I was alone. Panic was suddenly replaced by sheer annoyance when my eyes found his tall lean body running around with the kids from earlier. He was holding their playball above his head and zigzagging through the parking lot park as they pursued him with screeches of laughter and wide smiles. His attention span was about as long as my patience with him. Although, he did look kind of cute…

Tearing my eyes away from the increasingly adorable scene my gaze zero'd in on a cart that boasted 'the best takoyaki in Japan'. A large and false claim but it roped me in nonetheless. My mother never let me have anything close to takoyaki as she proclaimed it was junk food that would live on my waist, which she obsessively checked. The child in me almost wanted to look around to make sure she wasn't there. My mouth was watering and even if she somehow was around, I was dedicated to devouring at least a few.

A knobby elbowed and receding chinned man stood behind the counter. His eyes traveled over my body as I approached which I chalked to the assumption that he was just acknowledging me and not ogling me. A warm smile jumped onto his face framed by a barely-there goatee, "what can I get started for you, gal?"

Nothing he said was inappropriate but his tone gave me the creeps. Ignoring it, I ordered a plate of takoyaki for myself and was about to order one for Gojo when a shout caught my attention. One of the kids was pointing at Gojo and stomping his foot with obvious contempt. Gojo stood opposite of him with his arms folded and a broad smile as he shook his head. The words 'not fair' and 'uh huh' drifted my way and I felt my eyes involuntarily roll and the back of my neck tense up.

"Everything okay, miss?" The takoyaki man rested his overly bony elbows on the counter and leaned as far forward as he could without falling out of the truck. Offering an unctuous smile my way.

"I need a strong drink," I muttered under my breath not really intending for him to hear me. But, I should have assumed he would since he was practically hanging off the truck and into my face.

His expression took on a snake-like quality and his voice lowered to a loud whisper, "well lucky for you, gal, I have a few stiff beers on me to get me through the work day. I don't usually let customers have 'em but seeing as how both you and I seem….tense….maybe, we can drink them together and loosen each other up."

I couldn't help the face that I made at the weird proposition.

Startled by a sudden heavy weight draped over my shoulders, in the corner of my eye I could see familiar white hair as Gojo's fingers grazed the arm of my jacket. Being this close to him his sweet musky scent, that I couldn't determine if it was natural or softly scented soap, filled my nose. My head turned quickly to fully look at him but his eyes were firmly fixed on the man behind the truck counter.

"I'm assuming you offer your personal beers to all your customers, not just the young ladies," his tone was light but his voice went an octave deeper than usual and his words seemed more clipped, pointed.

"Fair warning," Gojo said tipping his sunglasses in the direction of the food cart worker. "I'm quite the lightweight when it comes to alcohol and I tend to get a bit handsy," he finished while wiggling his fingers for effect at the wispy mustached worker.

Both the takoyaki man and I recoiled at the same time. Him, from the thought of an overly enigmatic stranger violating his personal space. And me, from that same enigmatic stranger actually violating my personal space while he threatened to become "handsy" with someone. Shrugging out from below the weight of his arm I stepped forward to pay for the takoyaki when Gojo's hand stopped mine.

"Oh, don't worry about it Rina, this guy would happily treat you to your meal," Gojo kept his fierce gaze on the man, "wouldn't you?"

That did not sound like a question.

The employee pulled a face before tossing the plate of octopus pancakes on the counter in my direction haphazardly. Turning his back to us he went back to pouring the batter much more aggressively than was warranted.

"You didn't get a plate for me!?" Gojo asked as we sat down at one of the tables.

"Do not," I started before giving up on the thought in the middle of the sentence, "just don't."

"Guess we're sharing," Gojo said with a grin.

We took turns picking at the pancakes until there were a few soggy ones left at the bottom of the styrofoam dish.

"Alright," Gojo said breaking the momentary silence during our meal, "what did you want to talk to me about?"

I laughed to myself, "I want to talk about that night."

Gojo made an 'ah' sound as he folded his arms and leaned onto the table, "what do you want to know?"

"Whatever you're willing to share," I countered, "it's not as if I hold any cards or leverage here."

"You hold more than you're aware of," Gojo murmured and his eyes did that things that they sometimes did. Those crystal blue eyes of his had this way of penetrating into mine and making me feel almost...naked? As if every thought I'd ever had or would have was open and vulnerable to him. I hated it. "Tell me, have you felt any of that energy in your body you experienced that night?"

I shook my head.

Removing his sunglasses he stuck the temple tip between his lips and chewed on it gently while he continued to appraise me.

"Rina, can you tell me what you think happened that night? I know you must have been thinking about this, hell, torturing yourself trying to figure out what happened," Gojo said with a trace of sympathy in his voice, "in your words. What do you think happened?"

My throat clenched and for some reason I felt on the verge of tears. My voice quivered as I answered, "I-I don't know. I thought maybe what happened was a psychological breakdown. But, I knew I wasn't crazy and I knew that you were real. I knew what happened was real. But, how could it be, you know? So, then I started to think maybe it was an alien so I started looking up all these message boards," I could hear myself rambling but I didn't care. It felt so good to just get the words out to another person, and especially to someone that understood. "Then I found a folklore website that talked about how monsters could manifest from negative emotions. But, I was too scared to try to 'manifest' something….and what if I did? I wouldn't know what to do if something appeared and I was so close to dying last time-"

I felt them. The tears were coming. From stress, from relief, who knows? But they weren't stopping. Burying my face in my hands to shield myself from the world during such an intimate moment made me feel like such a fool. Why couldn't I hold it together?

I don't know how long I cried for but I could feel myself calming down and my breathing becoming less ragged. Once I could pull a full unbroken breath into my lungs I felt Gojo's rough fingers on my wrists. I startled slightly but he didn't pull my hands away from my face. Instead his thumbs soothingly rubbed back and forth over my wrists, coaxing my guard back down. The small gesture warmed something inside of me and I realized how long it had been since I was allowed to be both vulnerable and safe at the same time.

Lowering my hands from my face I quickly rubbed the stray tears out of my eyes and off my cheeks with my sleeves. Glancing back at him, I tried to pretend my face wasn't a red puffy mess.

His head tilted to the side and a genuinely warm smile crossed his lips, "feels kind of good, huh?"

Not sure if he meant felt good to share or felt good to cry, but I nodded either way as I continued to wipe tears off my neck and cheeks.

"What if I told you I could show you everything you wanted to know rather than simply telling you?"

He could sense that he had piqued my interest.

"Would you have the patience to wait until this weekend for me to show you?"

My face visibly fell and almost as if it was instinctual Gojo reached for my hand giving it a squeeze, "you have to trust me going forward."

Realizing where his hand was he quickly yanked it back and the momentary flustered look on his face made me inwardly smile.

"But," he continued pulling his composure back, "you're not crazy. What you saw is real and what happened that night was not a figment of your imagination. If you truly want to know, be forewarned, it will eventually require all of you," his eyes locked onto mine and I could sense the grave severity in them. "All of you," he repeated.

"Understand?" He asked.

"Honestly, no." I said with a weary laugh to which he tossed me an understanding smile, "but, I want to."

Studying me for just a beat too long he stood up from the table and took a step away. "That's good to hear," he said contemplatively while those blue eyes did that thing I hated, "meet me here on Saturday, 11pm."

Walking away without turning back once, he left me emotionally spent and with new hope in my heart.

The sky on my way home held threats of rain and had the same purple-black hue as a bruise. I'm not sure how I was able to do it, but I didn't think a single thought the entire way back to the house. It felt like one minute I was alone at the park table and the next I was outside my door. Digging into my purse to find where my keys had gotten to the overthinking started again.

Deep down I knew that this weekend was going to change everything. And, what did that even mean exactly? It felt ridiculous, but I kept imagining myself as Alice standing outside the Rabbithole. Listening to the beckoning call that drifted from within, whispering promises of wonder and excitement. But, that's what this was right? A beckoning call to a new world. Knowing the rest of the Wonderland story made me question if the song coming out of the hole was a call to adventure or a siren song to disaster.

My fingers brushed against the cold smoothness of my runaway keys. The moment the key hit the doorknob, I heard it. Slowly bringing the key back from the door I pressed my ear against the wood to make sure I heard what my mind already knew that I had. My heart plummets to my stomach and they both knot together with a sickening tightness that feels debilitating. Curling my fingers around the key I clench them hard, feeling their teeth biting into my palm. Continuing to press them into my hand until the pain takes my mind off the encounter that lies on the other side of the door. If even for a simple fleeting moment.

Stepping inside slowly, the whole home feels like enemy territory. Scanning the shoes by the door a pair of mens shoes that dwarfed the surrounding shoes belonging to my mother and I stand out as if they're being illuminated.

Not wanting to run into whoever he was I rushed towards the stairs. A hand shoots out and snatches my arm in a vise-like grip, halting my attempt to flee. Like a feral cat I twist against the hand and start swiping at the body and kicking.

"Get off of me!"

"Komi, who the fuck is this? Is she supposed to be here?" The man doesn't stand much taller than me but his body is sturdy and his arms were like tree trunks. The kind of arms that only come from being an over obsessive gym-rat. His face was arguably handsome but knowing why he was here made him look like an insect in my eyes.

Komi stood from her previous lounging position on the couch with a cigarette in hand and blowing a slow stream of smoke through her lips. She was so tragically beautiful. The type of woman that turned heads but also looked like life had chewed her up and spit her back out.

Silently making her way to us she placed her hand over the hand that was gripping my arm. Her eyes bore into the man's and he shifted nervously, "don't ever touch my daughter or your business is no longer welcome here."

His grip loosened ever so slightly and I ripped my arm away before taking several steps back towards the door.

"It's okay," Komi purred at him reassuringly, "everyone has to learn the rules at least once, right?"

Her "client voice" made me want to wretch.

A doofy smile popped onto his face, "yeah, I 'suppose you're right."

"Why don't you give us a few minutes?" Komi suggested, offering him a cigarette to signal that she would prefer he waited outside. Taking the hint the man accepted the cigarette before tossing an intentional glance my way. In a power move I've seen far too many times to count, he grasped the back of my mom's neck and pulled her into an aggressive kiss that almost looked like it hurt.

"Be back in five," he huffed under his breath before stalking towards me. With his back to my mom he shot me a deliberate smug grin. I looked past him over his shoulder, preferring to glare at my mom's absurdly serene face rather than focus on his pompous one.

Pointedly shoulder checking me, he grumbled a low 'move kid' before slamming the door behind him.

The house was suddenly on fire with silence. Outside of my mom's low inhale as she took a drag from her dwindling cigarette.

"Mom…" I didn't even recognize my voice. It was shaky and squeaky and desperate. Why was this happening again? She promised me!

She stepped forward and put her hands on both sides of my face tipping it up slightly to meet her eyes. Her eyes traveled across my expression and I just hoped that she could truly see how hurt I was. She had to see.

"Rina darling, have you been eating fast food again? Your face is bloated."

My entire body went slack. It's not that this was a shocking statement from my mother but it always shocked me how she lacked any sort of empathy for me. And it shocked me the overflowing empathy I had for her.

I loved her. And, the older I got the more I had to believe she hated me.

She doesn't hate you. She loves you. She doesn't hate you. She loves you. She just has to...

Slapping her hands away from my face my emotions were beginning to make me dizzy. My mouth felt dry but I forced it out, "mom, you promised you wouldn't do this again. I got a job and you've gotten every penny-"

A soft condescending laugh escapes her mouth mingled with streams of smoke.

"I've given you everything from that job! Whether you think it's peasant wages or not, I've given you all of it! I'm going to school full-time to make more money for us because you promised you wouldn't start doing this again!"

This type of rage was dangerous for me. But, I didn't know how to make it stop.

"Dear," my mother said the pet name with such disdain and exasperation she may as well have leaned over and slapped me in the face, "if you think your contributions are worth anything more than the change I find at the bottom of the sofa then you're much stupider than I had ever assumed."

Flicking her cigarette butt in the kitchen sink she moved about the house tidying things up. My whole body was pulsing. Emotion simultaneously drained out of me while also pouring over me. The only thing I could focus on was making this pain stop and I gripped my hip while dragging in uneven breaths.

You've been doing so good. Don't do this, it never makes anything better.

But, at least it was a momentary escape.

So distracted by my inner battle I didn't even realize that my mom had re-approached me. She broke me out of my trance by stroking my hair gently. My eyes began to well up but she hated when I cried so I struggled against the urge. She pulled me into an embrace and I melted into her. Relishing in the familiar scent of her before it became encumbered by the stench of whatever cologne that man was wearing.

Why did it have to be this way? The emotional whiplash was killing me. After all these years, I had assumed it would begin to hurt less. But it somehow only gets worse.

"I love you, mom."

My mom gave me a final squeeze but didn't return the sentiment. She never did.

"Go upstairs, sweetheart."

Moving around me and starting towards the door I couldn't help but grab her hand. She stopped short and her caramel colored eyes glared into mine. I didn't have any words but I hoped my silent plea would be enough, knowing it wouldn't be.

"Upstairs."

We stood in tense silence before I reluctantly dropped her hand. Her head jerked towards the staircase before turning again towards the door.

I focused on the soft taps of my feet against the floor and not the front door reopening. When my mothers giggle hit my ear I broke into a run up the stairs and bee lined to the bathroom. Tearing the bottom cabinets below the sink open I desperately began rifling through the odds and ends. Throwing shampoo and floss containers out of my way and across the bathroom, I finally found it. My fingers caressed the straight razor and a rush or relief pulsed through me.

Rushing back to my room I stood in the mirror and lifted my shirt and unbuttoned my pants lowering them with much the same fumbled hurry someone displays before a drunken one night stand. I slip the waistband of my panties below my hips and in the mirror I stare at the intentional silver scars that lay uniformly on the inside of my hip bone. My hand trembled with excited desperation as I flipped the razor from it's spine. The light from the lamppost outside bounced off the blade like a sparkling diamond. My fingers turned the blade over in my fingers over and over. I wanted to make the pain stop the only way I knew how.

Closing my eyes and biting my bottom lip I placed the blade against my skin. My mouth began to water with anticipation. My fingers remained poised. And I stayed like that.

Poised.

Ready.

Wanting.

But, I couldn't bring myself to press down and open the skin.

A sudden flash of the last time I had allowed myself to give into this desire broke me out of my intense haze.

Closing the blade was harder than I expected it to be.

No sooner had the blade been sheathed did a perfect idea pop into my head. Marching to the window and throwing it open, my target was obvious and my mood suddenly improved. The unfamiliar car parked in our driveway received a new crack in the windshield as I hurled the folded razor at the glass with as much force as I could. It wasn't as big of a crack as I wanted but it would do.

I crawled into bed pulling the covers over my head falling asleep to imaginings of what that creeps face would look like when he saw his car. And that helped me feel better. Not by much, but at least it was something.