You and I

Sit back and picture this.

It's a Wednesday morning and you're home alone. The house is silent and smells faintly of burned toast and whatever thing your father tried to cook for breakfast before his flight that morning. The apple-shaped clock ticks quietly on the bedside table, inching closely to the 7 a.m. when it will ring out.

You climb out of bed, careful not to wake your sister. She's only seven and needs to sleep or she won't grow. As you watch her, she snuffles and curls further into herself. Her brows furrow as if she can sense your absence but you have to go. So you kiss her forehead, slide on your fluffy slippers and tip-toe out of the room as silently as you can.

The kitchen is much too large for a child your size but you manoeuvre your way around it. There are burned up chunks of toast in the bin, the remnants of whatever your father had tried to cook, and a plate of somewhat crispy scrambled eggs in the microwave with a note taped to the screen.

You turn on the microwave and spoon rice into the rice cooker. By the time your sister stumbles into the room squinting blearily and rubbing her eyes you have set the table and are in the process of stuffing her lunchbox with egg rolls. There's no time to eat a full meal before the bus comes so you eat a banana and hope it tides you over until lunch.

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It's Thursday. The sky outside darkens quickly as the night sets in. Your sister is watching cartoons and so are you. You keep one eye on the clock as you count down the minutes until your father gets home. His recorded message on the answering machine had mentioned that he would be home late and not to stay up for him.

You take your eyes off the clock when your sister leans her head on your shoulder. "When do you think he's coming home?" She asks. She's ten now and almost as tall as you are.

"Soon," you reply, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulder. "There's probably just traffic on the way back from the airport. Papa only works this hard so we can have good things."

She perks up at that, cheering up despite the sleepy glaze in her eyes. "Yeah! He works so we can have nice clothes, and food, and toys!" You smile back at her and rub your eyes. On screen a magical girl gets blasted with the villain's special attack. The red and purple lightning lights up the clock as it ticks closer and closer to 11p.m.

Your sister falls asleep before the two hands meet at 12 and you drag her to bed. You stay up later until you hear the front door open and shut.

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It's Friday and you're 15. You've been angry for a long time but only recently have you realised it. You stand outside the principal's office with one foot propped up on the wall as the lady inside tries to get in touch with your father. Your sleeves are dirty and there's a bruise forming on your stomach. You haven't learned how to fight properly yet, but one day you will.

I need to speak to you face-to-face at some point, you hear her say. She's not trying to lower her voice, either out of carelessness or exasperation. Disciplinary issues...violent tendencies...family problems...?

You tune out the words. The clock on the wall opposite you is in the shape of some cartoon character and it grins mockingly at you as its arms twist themselves into 3:35p.m.

At some point she gives up and decides to suspend you for the next week. Your sister is waiting for you at the gate and at the sight of her the roiling ache in your chest gives way to relief. She takes your hand in hers and as she babbles about her day, you lose yourself in the familiar.

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It's Monday and the sky is a bright, vivid blue. Your father is home for the first time in months and he's brought presents with him. Ema runs to him, screaming excitedly all the way, but you hang back and stare at this man that claims to be something he isn't. He holds out his hands to you but you can't bring yourself to go to him. The papers you found in his office swim before your eyes, one word standing out as if it had been highlighted.

Adopted.

You never tell him you found it though you suspect he knows. You never tell Ema either because you know it will break her heart. Eventually he stops trying to hug you whenever he comes home and it only reinforces what you already knew;

It's always just been you and Ema.

I am so going to write a chapter where Ame and their father sit down and talk.

I don't believe their father is a bad person. I know he loved them (Ame knows that too she's just jaded as heck), but I do believe that it's very difficult to raise two girls on your own. School is expensive, medical bills, clothing etc. and I think he'd have to work a lot to provide for them materially which means he'd be gone a lot (especially since his job is just labelled as 'adventurer' like what?).

Take note boys and girls: no matter what anime says, you can't leave kids alone at home and disappear off-screen. That's neglect at best and illegal at worst.