{Warning: this fiction contains mature situations, bad language and is rather dark. You have been warned…}
Prologue to Part Two
"The Sins of the Fathers pursue the course of the children..."
For as long as she could remember her life was a never-ending struggle.
Nothing ever came easy for Tenou Haruka.
When she was young, others remarked with thinly veiled disapproval what an unruly child she was. How she had a dirty mouth. How she would pick fights. How roughly and aggressively she would play. How she had no respect for authority, almost distain towards anyone who lorded his or her power over her.
A strange child, they would murmur amongst themselves. Aggressive. Domineering. Rude. Angry. A girl who took no shit from anybody, no matter his or her places on the hierarchy. A girl who disobeyed orders, a girl who fought against the world, a girl who looked trouble right in the eye and never backed down. A girl who was born to raise hell.
They had no idea.
Looking back, Haruka was unaware of just when she realised that she was different. She was a highly perceptive child, able to see what others could not. Yet, for the longest time she could not identify just how she differed from others.
For as long as she could remember, condemnation had been the attitude most had towards her. She could never do anything right. Whether it was to play nicely with other children or please her school principal, she was never able to please, or appease, them. Haruka possessed a shrewd determination and self-conviction that always got her into trouble. Unable to back down, unable to apologise or repent, Haruka was often punished for her stubborn demeanour.
She was untouchable; whenever anyone tried to approach her, she would cut him or her off. Tenou Haruka, she who would not be bothered by anyone, she who would retaliate with fervour all who opposed her.
A solitary fighter was Tenou Haruka. Isolated from others, tolerant of no one, no one could break through her defences. Except the only one who understood…
As the child of former Olympic runner, and public disgrace, Tenou Okura and former supermodel Marubeni Kotano, she had a lot stacked against her. Apparent but invisible throughout her childhood was the cloak of shame for the sins of her parents. An ominous feeling that attached itself to their lives, that they were unable to free themselves from. The consequences of a decision made before her birth, nevertheless Haruka was impacted by their effect.
Perpetually throughout her childhood was the great sin that was never mentioned, never discussed, but always present. Even though Haruka was unaware of the identity of the sin, she still felt its suffocating presence. It dominated their lives.
Always Haruka was searching for answers, but her parents were either unwilling or unable to offer her assistance. She knew that something was wrong with their lives, with them, but what was a mystery. It was not until she was older that she was unable to untangle its ambiguity, but by that point the damage had been done.
There was no changing the past; what was done was done. Whatever damage had been caused was irreversible and unchangeable. Haruka would come to terms with her past, but she could never forget it. Her past was as much a part of her as her stormy blue-grey eyes; she could disguise them, she could hide them, but they would always be there…
Most of her early childhood was spent away from home, either at school or at her neighbour's who ran a daycare. Haruka was separated from her mother when she was less than a year old, as the family's financial situation was destitute. Kotano worked as a waitress for minimum wage at a sleazy, dingy bar-type restaurant; a far cry from her glamorous life as a model. Her mother was forced to work for ten hours a day, six days a week, to support her family. As a result she seldom saw her daughter, and Haruka was left to grow up on her own. And as for her father…Haruka had no idea what he did with his time. Often he was away for days on end, and when Haruka asked her mother for an explanation, she would vaguely reply, "He's busy."
From the very beginning, Haruka was an outstanding athlete. She was extremely mobile, walking months ahead of others her age, and running about soon after. She was blessed with extraordinary coordination, and was built for speed. At three years old, Haruka was able to outrun children over twice her age with ease. She amazed those who saw her, but her parents remained indifferent to her talents. It was if they never even saw her…
Haruka was curious as a child, and would often ask her mother questions about everything. Kotano, however, was easily irritable, and Haruka soon learned that her mother was best left unbothered. Her father, however, was best avoided all together. He was unpredictable; one moment placid and quiet, the next he was ranting and stomping throughout the apartment.
A once outgoing, outspoken child became quiet and introverted as a result of the irritability of her parents. Haruka was no idiot; once she realised that her constant chatter annoyed them, she withdrew into silence. She learned that it was better to be left unheard.
What Haruka remembered best about her childhood was the constant fighting between her parents. Her father would come home late, smelling as if he had bathed in beer, and her mother would inquire, just what the hell was he thinking of doing wasting the money that she slaved away to earn to support them on his habit, and her father would tell her to shut the fuck up and then they would start hurling insults at each other like missiles, and then maybe some plates and her mother would cry and her father would hit her and Haruka would see everything from behind the door of her room.
Her father was a dangerous man. He was tall and scrawny and smelt like the butt end of a cigarette, his eyes were clouded over blue, his hair was longish and scraggily, and his temper was as sharp as a knife. If he ever caught her doing anything she shouldn't be doing he would grab her by the arm and spank her until she saw stars.
One time Haruka accidentally dropped a plate on the floor when she was helping her mother with the dishes and in came her father, wild eyed with a cigarette dangling from his mouth and whisky on his breath. He grabbed her by the arm so hard that it almost dislocated, and slapped her so hard across the face that she had a bruise on her cheek for over two weeks.
Yes, it was best to avoid her father whenever possible.
Haruka loved her father almost as much as she feared him, and wanted desperately to please him, so that he would love her. She tried to be cheerful and happy like other girls, but whenever she tried to undertake a conversation with him he told her to shut her face if she knew what was good for her. She tried to play it cool, and do her best not to anger him, but all that resulted in was him forgetting about her and getting stoned. She tried to do favours for him like getting him a beer or the newspaper, but after she spilt beer on the carpet and got her behind smacked she gave up that approach too. She tried everything, but nothing worked. So Haruka simply decided to stay out of his way, and wait for him to notice her. But he never did.
Perhaps Haruka first noticed the difference between her and other children when she began school. Although Haruka's babysitter baby-sat other children, none of them were within her age group, and all were from similar financial situations, although none had as horrible a home situation. Nevertheless, all of the children Haruka was associated with had similar backgrounds, whereas in a public school, the children came from all different home and financial situations.
Nothing could have prepared either Haruka or the school for each other.
When Haruka was three years old, her mother decided that instead of forking over large sums of money to the baby-sitter, her daughter would be enrolled in kindergarten. Haruka was pensive; she had heard horror stories from her neighbour's kids about what went on at school, but Kotano was firm. They needed to save every cent that she earned; Okura was notorious for spending enormous sums of money to support his habit, and several times he had spent Kotano's entire paycheck before she was able to pay their bills.
So on the first of April Haruka was enrolled in kindergarten. Her mother dressed her in the ridiculous uniform consisting of a frilly white blouse, large red bow and a plaid skirt. Despite the fact that Haruka was comfortable in nothing but jeans and T-shirts, her mother insisted that she must wear this abomination.
"But how am I su'ppossed to run around, Mom?" asked a disgruntled Haruka, scowling fiercely as her mother tied her long, customarily loose sandy-blond hair back with a matching red ribbon.
"Because you are supposed to wear a uniform when you go to school," her mother had replied testily.
"But why do I have to wear a skirt? I hate skirts!" she had moaned, hating how short the stupid thing was; if she bent down, her underwear was visible. "Besides, Seiki-chan gets to wear pants! Why can't I?"
"Because you are a girl, and girls wear skirts." Kotano had replied. "Its just the way things are."
The way things are.
At least all of the other girls looked as stupid as she did; however, this was little consolation to Haruka. Let everyone else look like idiots, but not her!
On beginning school life as she knew it changed forever. Haruka was in for the surprise of her life when she realised that there was a world outside her own, that others did not necessarily share her own experiences and observations. Her interpretations and experiences were akin to herself and herself only, and those of the other students known only to them. At the age of three, Haruka came to realise and understand the rules of society; those who differ from the masses are isolated from the masses.
Haruka not only differed from the other girls in appearance; she was taller and thinner than every other girl and most of the boys as well, but also in attitude. Where the others were dreamy, good-natured and uncomplicated, Haruka was aggressive, hardheaded and convoluted. Where the other girls played with their dolls and liked pretty dresses, Haruka preferred to run around and play with toy cars. Where other girls and boys were happy and outgoing, Haruka was sullen and introverted.
Her teacher noted that while Haruka seldom showed interest or enthusiasm in her schoolwork, she made rapid progress and was the first child in the class able to read. She learned at breathtaking speed, and clearly possessed a vast vocabulary for a child so young. Which surprised the teacher as Haruka seldom spoke or offered input into any class discussions.
She was a mysterious girl, Tenou Haruka was, isolating herself from the others. Clearly intelligent, why did the girl act as she did? She was attractive; she was smart, so why did she purposely set up barriers to segregate herself? Why did she do the things she did; was she purposefully sabotaging her chances of friendship and acceptance?
At first Haruka wanted to be included amongst the silly, chattering little girls and boys, but gradually she accepted her state of isolationism as the way things were meant to be, and although she remained resentful towards others, she did not voice her thoughts. To try and fit in and be rejected; there could be no worse humiliation. Haruka may have only been three, but pride still overruled her actions.
Some things never changed.
Of course, Haruka was hardly the only loner, but she even differed from the other outcasts. While the other outsiders were desperate to be included, Haruka seemed content to live on the outside. The other loners were teased mainly because of their desire to be included into the inner circle of the popular children; Haruka appeared indifferent. She was too proud, and perhaps too stubborn, to risk condemnation.
Rather than change to suit them, she took pains to appear standoffish and reproachful towards the others. This led the other children to further distance themselves from her, and to label her as a snob. Of course, no one would dare say this to her face; after what she did to Sawa Ryoko, no one wanted to mess with Tenou Haruka.
After the first week, Haruka had established herself as independent from the other children; she left them alone and they left her alone. However, the class bully was not one to let an outsider be; Ryoko felt it his duty as class tyrant to deal with those outside his social circle.
After lunch one day, the children were sent outside to play; the majority of the children played a game of hopscotch, while Haruka amused herself by kicking around a soccer ball. Upon seeing Haruka alone and the teacher out of sight, Ryoko paused his daily activity of chucking rocks at the wall and wandered over.
He walked directly behind Haruka; with surprise and indignation he realised that she was slightly taller than him, even though he was a year older.
"What do you want?" asked Haruka without turning around; Ryoko was pissed; he liked to think of himself as possessing great stealth.
"I dunna lyke ya, Tenou," he said with an articulate capacity beyond his years. Ryoko liked to think of himself possessing a vast vocabulary.
"Likewise, I'm sure," she replied indifferently without facing him; she continued to kick the soccer ball.
This infuriated Ryoko; how dare this girl not even face him? How dare she pay no heed to his words? (Of course, Ryoko's thoughts went along these lines 'oh dat girl pisses me off why won't she turn around')
"Hey, don't you not listen to me like that!" he yelled, clenching his fists. "Hey, I'm talking ta you, you ass-butt!"
She ignored him. Again. That did it; he would have to assert his superiority, his place as the kindergarten bully!
Ryoko placed his hands on her shoulders; she spun around and met him eye to eye; he was surprised to see anger in their depths, anger…but no fear. He stepped back in surprise; her eyes were dark but for a glowing green ring around her irises, he had never seen eyes like that before…
"Don't touch me." Said Haruka threateningly, angrily.
Of course Ryoko did no such thing; instead, he grabbed her arm and brought her close to him.
"I can touch who I wanna," his oh so brilliant reply. He applied pressure to her arm; she didn't flinch.
"I'm going to give you one chance to let go and go away, and one chance only. Are you going to take advantage of my generous offer or not?"
"Gen'rous? What you talking 'bout?" he didn't let go.
Oh well, he had been warned…
Without warning, Haruka spun around and planted a solid kick right in his stomach. He crumpled to the ground in an undignified heap.
"You bitch!" he rose to his feet and lunged with all the power of his substantially larger body.
Except he missed; somehow Haruka managed to dodge his attack and trip him simultaneously. The result was rather comic; he went flying head over heels and landed face down on the asphalt. Tears came to his eyes, but Haruka showed no mercy. She stepped over to him and placed her foot on his chest.
"I don't like people touching me," she said without pity, without remorse. Cold. "And I don't like people bothering me. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
He whimpered, nodded, and started bawling. At this point, the teacher had noticed their fight and had run over. She was startled to see the strongest, toughest kid in the class beaten and bleeding, and the quiet, reserved Haruka standing over him.
"What happened?" the teacher asked in shock; the answer was fairly obvious.
"He was bothering me, so I stopped him." She said. Without a trace of emotion in her voice.
The teacher was suddenly frightened. This was a three-year-old child, after all.
Needless to say, Haruka was forced to stay in the corner all day.
That event caused the teachers to see her in a different light; no longer was she merely quiet, but disturbed. Not only was she merely isolated; she was exiled. It made little difference to Haruka; she had already figured out that it was better to have people's fear than their compassion. All that mattered to her was that Ryoko never bothered her again, as did anyone else. Self-imposed exile, one may call it, but to Haruka, it was merely survival. Never let anyone close; never let anyone see your vulnerabilities. Better to let them think you deranged than desperate.
As she knew all to well from bitter experience.
Once, when Haruka was about five, there was a period of time that stood out in her mind. A period following a particularly violent attack by her father, which resulted in Kotano landing in intensive care with a broken arm and bruises from her face to her toes. Her mother had been in the hospital for two weeks; her father told the police that she fell down the stairs.
During these two weeks Haruka was forced to stay with her bitchy neighbour who smelled like day old shit and had a face like the butt of a green pepper. She chain-smoked menthol cigarettes all day long in front of her television, and left Haruka and the other children she baby-sat roam free in the backyard. Haruka was forced to stay with this old windbag, and her asshole trucker husband who smelt ten times worse and whose face had the odd puckered look of an anus.
She missed her mother dreadfully, and was worried sick about her. Although Haruka seldom spent time with Kotano, and seldom Kotano granted her an audience, Haruka loved her. The last time Haruka had seen her mother was right before she was taken away by ambulance; she had been curled up in a ball on the floor, weeping and clutching her broken arm. Haruka had held her mother close to her, stroking her long white-blond hair, which was spotted in blood. Her father was long gone.
Finally, her mother returned with a cast on her arm and fading yellow bruises covering almost every inch of skin. Her father wasn't there.
Kotano and Haruka arrived home, and life went on, but her father never made an appearance.
"Where's Dad?" she asked her mother after a week, for Haruka was sensitive to her mother's moods and could see that Kotano was unwilling to talk. After a week of guessing, though, Haruka needed answers.
"Where's your father? Where's your father? In hell, I hope!" Kotano had yelled at her bewildered daughter, and slammed her bedroom door. After this violent outburst, Haruka decided to keep her questions to herself.
Finally, almost a month after Kotano's return from the hospital, she took Haruka onto the couch and told her that they were going to have a serious conversation. Haruka was intrigued, and curious; her mother seldom wanted to speak with her about something important.
"As you may be aware," began Kotano, "Your father has a temper, and he sometimes…lashes out. His drinking... alcohol, I mean, influences his temper. When he drinks, he hurts people. Do you understand?"
"Yeah," Haruka had replied, rather confused, "but if drinking beer makes him bad, then why does he drink it?"
"Because…because he's a man, I suppose…Anyways, to help him with his drinking problems…and other habits…he is at a rehabilitation clinic. Hopefully they can cure him. He should be back within the next few months. Do you understand?" asked Kotano.
"Kind of. So, Dad's sick off his beer, so he goes to the 'rehab-tion' centre to cure his disease? Like how you went to the hospital to fix your arm?"
Kotano nodded slowly, amazed at her daughter's comprehension of the difficult situation, grateful that she needed no further enlightenment. It was hard enough to explain as it was.
The months that her father was gone marked the first peaceful period of Haruka's life. However, three months later when her father returned life became even more hazardous than before.
Okura came back from the rehabilitation centre gaunt, nervous and edgy, but full of regrets. When Kotano brought him home from the clinic, he sobbed and cried, promising that he would be a new man. He sat on the sofa, wearing a clean white shirt with no cigarette burns or stains that hung off of him as if he were a coat rack. Kotano sat beside him, stroking his freshly cut blond hair and his bony face. He vowed to love his woman and child; her parents both became teary eyed, and embraced. Haruka was sceptical; was he the same man who had harassed her mother for as long as she could remember?
Despite her initial scepticism, Haruka forgave her father, letting him hold her on his lap and kiss her face, paradoxically on the same cheek that he had slapped not long before. She would give him a chance; after all, if her mother believed him, then shouldn't she?
Although he had been clean for over four months, Okura was still experiencing after effects from the drugs. He had been a serious addict for five years now, and had been into heavy drugs such as heroin and cocaine. Kotano had to take a leave of absence from her job as Okura needed to be monitored at all times, just in case he had a relapse.
Kotano explained all of this to her daughter, leaving out all references to drugs. She explained it in a way that made Haruka believe her father had a terminal illness, and not a terminal addiction. Haruka knew a kid who had cancer; her mother used the same terms as were applied to this child, so Haruka came to the conclusion that her father had cancer. Her mother said nothing to persuade her otherwise.
Occasionally they would do things as a family; go to the park, go shopping, but these instances were rare. Often Okura was too sick to leave his bed; in fact he was often so sick that Kotano had to lock him in his room.
On these occasions, Haruka would hide underneath the covers of her bed, her hands over her ears to block out the sounds of her father's anguished screams. Her mother would often climb into Haruka's bed as well, and they would cling to each other desperately. In the weeks following Okura's dismissal from the clinic, Kotano frequently slept in her daughter's room, partly because she was afraid of her fiancée, but mainly because she needed her daughter's comfort.
Ironically, Haruka liked her father more when he was on drugs.
When they ran out of money, Kotano was forced to return to work, and Haruka was left alone with her father when not in school, as they had no money to pay the babysitter. Haruka was forced to walk for over an hour from school everyday, on her own.
While her father writhed and moaned in his room, which Kotano kept a heavy cabinet in front of, Haruka would escape the house to play outside in the apartment's lot. There she was free of all her troubles; outside that horrible apartment Haruka could do as she pleased. She would play by herself, running about unsupervised, able to be loud and carefree. Often she would stay out all day, afraid to be alone with her father, even though he was unable to escape his room. Kotano would return home at ten o'clock at night, dead tired, and would find her daughter asleep on the steps.
The cravings were horrible; Okura would scream, beat his head against the wall, run his fingernails through his skin until it bled. Once when Kotano returned home and stepped into his room, she saw that he had torn apart the bed, thrown a chair at the window and cut open his arms from wrist to elbow. After this incident, he had to return to the clinic.
Haruka was ashamed to admit that she was happy that her father had had a relapse; it meant that the screaming stopped, that her mother stopped curling up on the floor in fetal position, and that her father was gone.
However, Haruka's relief was not long-lived, as Okura returned within a week. They simply did not have enough money to keep him there; his medical bills had put the family even further in debt.
He returned home sedated, white bandages wrapped around his wrists, unable to walk through the door without assistance. His eyes were dead, empty; he looked like a zombie. Haruka had almost cried when she saw him, but one swift look from her mother stopped her. Instead, she slowly walked over to him and hugged his emaciated body. He didn't react; it was like hugging a corpse.
This time, Kotano was forced to leave him alone when she went to work. She was forced to send Haruka to the baby-sitters after school, as Okura was unpredictable and prone to bouts of violence. Okura was able to leave the house at will, as no one was there to prevent him from doing so. Sadly, he frequently made use of this opportunity.
Because Kotano and Haruka were away from home during the day, and because Okura was asleep when they returned, it took them a while to notice a difference in Okura. Kotano was always exhausted, having to work sixty hours a week, and Haruka was too young, but gradually both noticed a change in Okura. The yellow tinge to his skin, the frequent nosebleeds and the extreme highs and lows all returned. Kotano frequently noticed money missing from her purse. A sickly sweet smell clung to his clothing, his breath smelt strongly of Listerine and smoke, and his lips were abnormally dry to the point of blistering and cracking. Although Kotano suspected that Okura had a relapse, she was unable to voice her suspicions. She had no solid proof, but these symptoms put Kotano on her guard.
Despite initial uncertainties, life went on for Haruka and her mother until the day when the suspicions were proven to be true.
Then, all hell broke loose.
One fateful Saturday in December as Haruka was preparing for bed the sounds of a fight erupted. After Okura's second homecoming, her parents seldom spoke to each other, let alone fought, so this sudden turn of events was unanticipated. The sounds escalated; Haruka became frightened. The only other time she could remember a fight this bad was when her father had put her mother in the hospital.
Cautiously, Haruka peered from behind her bedroom door and watched the scene unfold before her.
Her parents were standing in front of their bedroom, facing each other like prizefighters. Her mother was on the offence, and her father the defensive. Her mother was furious and enraged, her father shifty and adverse.
"What the hell were you thinking?" screamed her mother at her father, disbelief and contempt heavy in her voice.
"You had better watch your mouth, you bitch…" her father had replied threateningly.
"I'll say as I damn well please, Okura! After all of the shit you put us through, after all the months in that damned clinic, after you came home and made life a living hell…you go and do a stupid thing like this! You bastard!"
He slapped her, hard, across the mouth, but she stood her ground defiantly.
"You dare to hit me, after you broke my arm…"
"I'll make that injury seem like a scratch if you don't shut up…" Okura moved towards her again, but Kotano retreated into the kitchen.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing…holy shit!" he gasped in shock as she returned, a carving knife clenched in her hand.
"Hit me again and I swear I'll use it…"
Haruka gasped; her mother looked as if she really meant it. Paralysed with fear, Haruka had no idea what to do. If she tried to stop them, she could be caught in the crossfire, but if she just stood by…
"Mom," she whispered, but was unheard. The screaming had escalated again; her father was relentless in his pursuit, her mother was determined to finish her speech.
"Just guess what I found underneath the bed today, Okura?" she teased menacingly, waving the knife before her face.
"Kotano…"he started, but was cut off.
"Just guess? Give up? OK, I'll tell you…a small baggy of white powder…white powder…COCAINE!" She screamed as loud as she could; her voice vibrated throughout the apartment.
"Look…"
"Cocaine! Oh, you thought that you were so smart, trading the needles for powder…so smart, thinking that with no tracks, I wouldn't figure it out…but you got careless, and left your stash in plain view…"
Cocaine? Haruka knew vaguely what that was from her teacher, a bad drug that bad people sold to bad kids…something to do with peer-pressure…what was her father doing with cocaine?
"Look, just shut up, already. It was just a few hits, nothing serious, just to take the edge off…"
"With you its never a few hits, with you its all or nothing. All these nights that I've come home, dead tired, thinking 'oh how nice poor Okura is finally able to fall asleep without the cravings blah blah blah'…and now this! You haven't been overcoming your cravings; they've been overcoming you! You gave in! You bastard, after you promised, you coward…"
The word coward awoke Okura from his submissive stance; being called what one feared most of being enraged him to the point of fury.
"Shut up!" with a cry, Okura lunged at Kotano with the swiftness of a panther; too startled to react, Kotano was knocked to the ground with Okura landing on top. He grabbed the knife from her hand, and held it threateningly to her neck. Her struggling instantly stopped and her face paled drastically. From her bedroom, Haruka began to cry, but her father was oblivious.
How quickly the tides could turn.
"Say one word or move one inch and I'll slit your throat from ear to ear, you hear?" he rasped, his foul breath on her face; involuntarily she gagged.
"Yeh-yeh-yes…" she stammered.
"Good. That's real good. Now look here, bitch, I've had it up to hear with your bitching and your nagging and your other assorted bullshit…and I'm not going to put up with it anymore. You got that?
"I-I-I.."
"Good. Now listen to what I'm going to say, and listen well. You have no power over me. None. Maybe I did say I was going to give it up, and maybe I did say that I'd love and cherish you and all that shit…but that's all it was, Kotano. Shit. Just shit I said to keep you off my back…and the cops, too."
Okura grinned; it was a grin more frightening than any frown or grimace. He looked mad, psychotic…
"I am a man, Kotano, and as a man, whatever I say, goes. If I want to flush my life down the shit-hole, if I want to get as high as a fucking kite…then I'll do it. Because I'm a man, and my word is law, and you can't do anything to stop me. I'm fed up with you trying to control me, I'm fed up with you trying to overthrow me…hell, I'm fed up with you. But that's all going to change, isn't it? Isn't it!"
"Ye-ye-yes…"
"Yes, my dear, it is all going to change. You know the lyrics, 'the times are a-changing'…or something along those lines; I forget exactly…who sung that anyways?
"Buh-Bob Dylan…"
"Oh, yeah! I almost forgot, it's a good thing that I've got a smart bitch like you around to remind me…now where was I…oh, yes, I remember! I was asserting my dominance over you…" He grinned and ran the knife gently down her throat with just enough pressure to break the skin. He laughed fanatically as he did so.
"You're high, Okura, please, its not you talking, it's those damned drugs…" whispered Kotano hopefully, struggling for understanding.
"No, It's me, darling. Its all me; its always been me. The drugs just give me the fucking balls to do so." He laughed, and pressed himself close to Kotano; with horror she could feel his growing erection.
He lowered the knife to her chest, and with one swift motion cut the bodice of her nightgown. Her breasts were exposed; Kotano screamed as he bit her, hard…he just laughed.
"You dare to question my dominance, my masculinity…I'll show you whose boss around here…" Okura pulled up her nightgown and struggled out of his pants, managing to keep the hand with the knife level with her chest. Kotano was too afraid to struggle; her throat was too dry to scream…all she could do was cry silent tears and wait for it to be over.
He mounted her like an animal and dry-humped her, passionlessly, as she lay there, so still, so still but the convulsive motions his thrusting manipulated her body to perform, so still…
Haruka saw everything.
When he was finished, he stood up unsteadily but with a triumphant smirk on his face.
'How do you like them apples," he laughed clumsily, laughing slightly. Kotano remained motionless, a limp doll, broken and discarded. Her eyes were closed. Was she unconscious?
Okura kicked her side, and she groaned slightly.
"Stupid bitch," he muttered, picking up the knife and holding it before his eyes.
He debated whether he should further punish her or not, but before he had a chance to decide, he felt a pain in his leg. Looking down, he was mildly surprised to see his daughter standing in front of Kotano, and that she had kicked him. Hard.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He yelled, and slapped her face. She fell to the ground, landing on top of her mother. Although the slap stung, she did not cry. Instead, she turned her head to face her father. On her face was a defiant expression.
"Those eyes," he vaguely thought, but was too enraged to consider just what about them caused him fear. He was blinded by rage: first his wife, and now his daughter! Challenging him, fighting back…he raised his hand…
She stood before him, anticipating the hit, feeling the rush of wind as he drew back his hand; she closed her eyes, resigned to the fact that he was capable of anything…
Nothing happened.
For, just as Okura had prepared to strike her, something stopped his hand from colliding with the face of his daughter. A force prevented him from moving his hand; he looked at his hand…and gasped.
Around his wrist was the hand of another.
He looked at his daughter; behind her was the ghostly figure of a tall woman whom his daughter resembled. This woman, standing nearly as tall as him, translucent, with short blond hair and green rimmed blue-grey eyes…his daughter's eyes… wearing a strange uniform. A soldier. She held his wrist in a grip so tight that he was incapable of movement.
Desperately he struggled, but to no avail. He tried to scream, but his throat was strangely dry. He stared transfixed into the mysterious soldier's eyes, fear causing him to break into a cold sweat, body shaking, but unable to look away.
A sign appeared on her forehead, its meaning unknown to him. The same sign appeared on the forehead of his daughter.
"What…" he gasped, not understanding but afraid none the less.
{She has her eyes, the same sign upon their foreheads}
Haruka felt a presence behind her, the presence of someone she knew but could not remember. She wanted to open her eyes, but the presence prevented her from doing so. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and a voice in her head (Don't be afraid little one I'll protect you). The presence reassured her; she was no longer afraid.
The ghostly figure of the woman stared deep into Okura's eyes, able to threaten him without words…the sign burned on both her and Haruka's foreheads…
Okura backed away as the hand suddenly let go of his; he stumbled back and landed on his ass. The figure gave him one final glare, and embraced the girl in front of her. Then she disappeared.
Haruka's eyes remained closed.
The woman had only been present several seconds, but for Okura, time had stopped. Her eyes haunted him; he could still feel their glare after she had disappeared.
Something had happened; the balance of power had shifted.
He did not understand just what had happened, but Okura knew that the woman was connected to his daughter in some way. That for whatever reason, this woman was bound to protect his daughter…
He was afraid.
Okura fled from the apartment. He would never return.
The sign on her forehead disappeared. Haruka opened her eyes as the door slammed behind her father. He was gone. At last.
Her mother's eyelids fluttered. Haruka knelt beside her and stroked her hair lovingly. Her poor mother, doomed to pay for a mistake she once made, to suffer at the hands of her husband, slave to a desire she had no control over…
But that no longer mattered. Her father was gone, this time for good. He was too afraid to return. Just what had scared him she did not know, but she was grateful all the same.
"Thank-you," she whispered.
**********
How do you like the story so far? I know its kind of dark and depressing, but for Haruka to become the strong person she is I believe that she had to face some serious battles. Her kind of strength is not inherited, it is earned through trials and suffering.
BTW, thanks to Distantskyking for the idea of naming Part One…it's perfect!
Thanks for reading, your comments are appreciated and welcomed J
-Brandt
Prologue to Part Two
"The Sins of the Fathers pursue the course of the children..."
For as long as she could remember her life was a never-ending struggle.
Nothing ever came easy for Tenou Haruka.
When she was young, others remarked with thinly veiled disapproval what an unruly child she was. How she had a dirty mouth. How she would pick fights. How roughly and aggressively she would play. How she had no respect for authority, almost distain towards anyone who lorded his or her power over her.
A strange child, they would murmur amongst themselves. Aggressive. Domineering. Rude. Angry. A girl who took no shit from anybody, no matter his or her places on the hierarchy. A girl who disobeyed orders, a girl who fought against the world, a girl who looked trouble right in the eye and never backed down. A girl who was born to raise hell.
They had no idea.
Looking back, Haruka was unaware of just when she realised that she was different. She was a highly perceptive child, able to see what others could not. Yet, for the longest time she could not identify just how she differed from others.
For as long as she could remember, condemnation had been the attitude most had towards her. She could never do anything right. Whether it was to play nicely with other children or please her school principal, she was never able to please, or appease, them. Haruka possessed a shrewd determination and self-conviction that always got her into trouble. Unable to back down, unable to apologise or repent, Haruka was often punished for her stubborn demeanour.
She was untouchable; whenever anyone tried to approach her, she would cut him or her off. Tenou Haruka, she who would not be bothered by anyone, she who would retaliate with fervour all who opposed her.
A solitary fighter was Tenou Haruka. Isolated from others, tolerant of no one, no one could break through her defences. Except the only one who understood…
As the child of former Olympic runner, and public disgrace, Tenou Okura and former supermodel Marubeni Kotano, she had a lot stacked against her. Apparent but invisible throughout her childhood was the cloak of shame for the sins of her parents. An ominous feeling that attached itself to their lives, that they were unable to free themselves from. The consequences of a decision made before her birth, nevertheless Haruka was impacted by their effect.
Perpetually throughout her childhood was the great sin that was never mentioned, never discussed, but always present. Even though Haruka was unaware of the identity of the sin, she still felt its suffocating presence. It dominated their lives.
Always Haruka was searching for answers, but her parents were either unwilling or unable to offer her assistance. She knew that something was wrong with their lives, with them, but what was a mystery. It was not until she was older that she was unable to untangle its ambiguity, but by that point the damage had been done.
There was no changing the past; what was done was done. Whatever damage had been caused was irreversible and unchangeable. Haruka would come to terms with her past, but she could never forget it. Her past was as much a part of her as her stormy blue-grey eyes; she could disguise them, she could hide them, but they would always be there…
Most of her early childhood was spent away from home, either at school or at her neighbour's who ran a daycare. Haruka was separated from her mother when she was less than a year old, as the family's financial situation was destitute. Kotano worked as a waitress for minimum wage at a sleazy, dingy bar-type restaurant; a far cry from her glamorous life as a model. Her mother was forced to work for ten hours a day, six days a week, to support her family. As a result she seldom saw her daughter, and Haruka was left to grow up on her own. And as for her father…Haruka had no idea what he did with his time. Often he was away for days on end, and when Haruka asked her mother for an explanation, she would vaguely reply, "He's busy."
From the very beginning, Haruka was an outstanding athlete. She was extremely mobile, walking months ahead of others her age, and running about soon after. She was blessed with extraordinary coordination, and was built for speed. At three years old, Haruka was able to outrun children over twice her age with ease. She amazed those who saw her, but her parents remained indifferent to her talents. It was if they never even saw her…
Haruka was curious as a child, and would often ask her mother questions about everything. Kotano, however, was easily irritable, and Haruka soon learned that her mother was best left unbothered. Her father, however, was best avoided all together. He was unpredictable; one moment placid and quiet, the next he was ranting and stomping throughout the apartment.
A once outgoing, outspoken child became quiet and introverted as a result of the irritability of her parents. Haruka was no idiot; once she realised that her constant chatter annoyed them, she withdrew into silence. She learned that it was better to be left unheard.
What Haruka remembered best about her childhood was the constant fighting between her parents. Her father would come home late, smelling as if he had bathed in beer, and her mother would inquire, just what the hell was he thinking of doing wasting the money that she slaved away to earn to support them on his habit, and her father would tell her to shut the fuck up and then they would start hurling insults at each other like missiles, and then maybe some plates and her mother would cry and her father would hit her and Haruka would see everything from behind the door of her room.
Her father was a dangerous man. He was tall and scrawny and smelt like the butt end of a cigarette, his eyes were clouded over blue, his hair was longish and scraggily, and his temper was as sharp as a knife. If he ever caught her doing anything she shouldn't be doing he would grab her by the arm and spank her until she saw stars.
One time Haruka accidentally dropped a plate on the floor when she was helping her mother with the dishes and in came her father, wild eyed with a cigarette dangling from his mouth and whisky on his breath. He grabbed her by the arm so hard that it almost dislocated, and slapped her so hard across the face that she had a bruise on her cheek for over two weeks.
Yes, it was best to avoid her father whenever possible.
Haruka loved her father almost as much as she feared him, and wanted desperately to please him, so that he would love her. She tried to be cheerful and happy like other girls, but whenever she tried to undertake a conversation with him he told her to shut her face if she knew what was good for her. She tried to play it cool, and do her best not to anger him, but all that resulted in was him forgetting about her and getting stoned. She tried to do favours for him like getting him a beer or the newspaper, but after she spilt beer on the carpet and got her behind smacked she gave up that approach too. She tried everything, but nothing worked. So Haruka simply decided to stay out of his way, and wait for him to notice her. But he never did.
Perhaps Haruka first noticed the difference between her and other children when she began school. Although Haruka's babysitter baby-sat other children, none of them were within her age group, and all were from similar financial situations, although none had as horrible a home situation. Nevertheless, all of the children Haruka was associated with had similar backgrounds, whereas in a public school, the children came from all different home and financial situations.
Nothing could have prepared either Haruka or the school for each other.
When Haruka was three years old, her mother decided that instead of forking over large sums of money to the baby-sitter, her daughter would be enrolled in kindergarten. Haruka was pensive; she had heard horror stories from her neighbour's kids about what went on at school, but Kotano was firm. They needed to save every cent that she earned; Okura was notorious for spending enormous sums of money to support his habit, and several times he had spent Kotano's entire paycheck before she was able to pay their bills.
So on the first of April Haruka was enrolled in kindergarten. Her mother dressed her in the ridiculous uniform consisting of a frilly white blouse, large red bow and a plaid skirt. Despite the fact that Haruka was comfortable in nothing but jeans and T-shirts, her mother insisted that she must wear this abomination.
"But how am I su'ppossed to run around, Mom?" asked a disgruntled Haruka, scowling fiercely as her mother tied her long, customarily loose sandy-blond hair back with a matching red ribbon.
"Because you are supposed to wear a uniform when you go to school," her mother had replied testily.
"But why do I have to wear a skirt? I hate skirts!" she had moaned, hating how short the stupid thing was; if she bent down, her underwear was visible. "Besides, Seiki-chan gets to wear pants! Why can't I?"
"Because you are a girl, and girls wear skirts." Kotano had replied. "Its just the way things are."
The way things are.
At least all of the other girls looked as stupid as she did; however, this was little consolation to Haruka. Let everyone else look like idiots, but not her!
On beginning school life as she knew it changed forever. Haruka was in for the surprise of her life when she realised that there was a world outside her own, that others did not necessarily share her own experiences and observations. Her interpretations and experiences were akin to herself and herself only, and those of the other students known only to them. At the age of three, Haruka came to realise and understand the rules of society; those who differ from the masses are isolated from the masses.
Haruka not only differed from the other girls in appearance; she was taller and thinner than every other girl and most of the boys as well, but also in attitude. Where the others were dreamy, good-natured and uncomplicated, Haruka was aggressive, hardheaded and convoluted. Where the other girls played with their dolls and liked pretty dresses, Haruka preferred to run around and play with toy cars. Where other girls and boys were happy and outgoing, Haruka was sullen and introverted.
Her teacher noted that while Haruka seldom showed interest or enthusiasm in her schoolwork, she made rapid progress and was the first child in the class able to read. She learned at breathtaking speed, and clearly possessed a vast vocabulary for a child so young. Which surprised the teacher as Haruka seldom spoke or offered input into any class discussions.
She was a mysterious girl, Tenou Haruka was, isolating herself from the others. Clearly intelligent, why did the girl act as she did? She was attractive; she was smart, so why did she purposely set up barriers to segregate herself? Why did she do the things she did; was she purposefully sabotaging her chances of friendship and acceptance?
At first Haruka wanted to be included amongst the silly, chattering little girls and boys, but gradually she accepted her state of isolationism as the way things were meant to be, and although she remained resentful towards others, she did not voice her thoughts. To try and fit in and be rejected; there could be no worse humiliation. Haruka may have only been three, but pride still overruled her actions.
Some things never changed.
Of course, Haruka was hardly the only loner, but she even differed from the other outcasts. While the other outsiders were desperate to be included, Haruka seemed content to live on the outside. The other loners were teased mainly because of their desire to be included into the inner circle of the popular children; Haruka appeared indifferent. She was too proud, and perhaps too stubborn, to risk condemnation.
Rather than change to suit them, she took pains to appear standoffish and reproachful towards the others. This led the other children to further distance themselves from her, and to label her as a snob. Of course, no one would dare say this to her face; after what she did to Sawa Ryoko, no one wanted to mess with Tenou Haruka.
After the first week, Haruka had established herself as independent from the other children; she left them alone and they left her alone. However, the class bully was not one to let an outsider be; Ryoko felt it his duty as class tyrant to deal with those outside his social circle.
After lunch one day, the children were sent outside to play; the majority of the children played a game of hopscotch, while Haruka amused herself by kicking around a soccer ball. Upon seeing Haruka alone and the teacher out of sight, Ryoko paused his daily activity of chucking rocks at the wall and wandered over.
He walked directly behind Haruka; with surprise and indignation he realised that she was slightly taller than him, even though he was a year older.
"What do you want?" asked Haruka without turning around; Ryoko was pissed; he liked to think of himself as possessing great stealth.
"I dunna lyke ya, Tenou," he said with an articulate capacity beyond his years. Ryoko liked to think of himself possessing a vast vocabulary.
"Likewise, I'm sure," she replied indifferently without facing him; she continued to kick the soccer ball.
This infuriated Ryoko; how dare this girl not even face him? How dare she pay no heed to his words? (Of course, Ryoko's thoughts went along these lines 'oh dat girl pisses me off why won't she turn around')
"Hey, don't you not listen to me like that!" he yelled, clenching his fists. "Hey, I'm talking ta you, you ass-butt!"
She ignored him. Again. That did it; he would have to assert his superiority, his place as the kindergarten bully!
Ryoko placed his hands on her shoulders; she spun around and met him eye to eye; he was surprised to see anger in their depths, anger…but no fear. He stepped back in surprise; her eyes were dark but for a glowing green ring around her irises, he had never seen eyes like that before…
"Don't touch me." Said Haruka threateningly, angrily.
Of course Ryoko did no such thing; instead, he grabbed her arm and brought her close to him.
"I can touch who I wanna," his oh so brilliant reply. He applied pressure to her arm; she didn't flinch.
"I'm going to give you one chance to let go and go away, and one chance only. Are you going to take advantage of my generous offer or not?"
"Gen'rous? What you talking 'bout?" he didn't let go.
Oh well, he had been warned…
Without warning, Haruka spun around and planted a solid kick right in his stomach. He crumpled to the ground in an undignified heap.
"You bitch!" he rose to his feet and lunged with all the power of his substantially larger body.
Except he missed; somehow Haruka managed to dodge his attack and trip him simultaneously. The result was rather comic; he went flying head over heels and landed face down on the asphalt. Tears came to his eyes, but Haruka showed no mercy. She stepped over to him and placed her foot on his chest.
"I don't like people touching me," she said without pity, without remorse. Cold. "And I don't like people bothering me. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
He whimpered, nodded, and started bawling. At this point, the teacher had noticed their fight and had run over. She was startled to see the strongest, toughest kid in the class beaten and bleeding, and the quiet, reserved Haruka standing over him.
"What happened?" the teacher asked in shock; the answer was fairly obvious.
"He was bothering me, so I stopped him." She said. Without a trace of emotion in her voice.
The teacher was suddenly frightened. This was a three-year-old child, after all.
Needless to say, Haruka was forced to stay in the corner all day.
That event caused the teachers to see her in a different light; no longer was she merely quiet, but disturbed. Not only was she merely isolated; she was exiled. It made little difference to Haruka; she had already figured out that it was better to have people's fear than their compassion. All that mattered to her was that Ryoko never bothered her again, as did anyone else. Self-imposed exile, one may call it, but to Haruka, it was merely survival. Never let anyone close; never let anyone see your vulnerabilities. Better to let them think you deranged than desperate.
As she knew all to well from bitter experience.
Once, when Haruka was about five, there was a period of time that stood out in her mind. A period following a particularly violent attack by her father, which resulted in Kotano landing in intensive care with a broken arm and bruises from her face to her toes. Her mother had been in the hospital for two weeks; her father told the police that she fell down the stairs.
During these two weeks Haruka was forced to stay with her bitchy neighbour who smelled like day old shit and had a face like the butt of a green pepper. She chain-smoked menthol cigarettes all day long in front of her television, and left Haruka and the other children she baby-sat roam free in the backyard. Haruka was forced to stay with this old windbag, and her asshole trucker husband who smelt ten times worse and whose face had the odd puckered look of an anus.
She missed her mother dreadfully, and was worried sick about her. Although Haruka seldom spent time with Kotano, and seldom Kotano granted her an audience, Haruka loved her. The last time Haruka had seen her mother was right before she was taken away by ambulance; she had been curled up in a ball on the floor, weeping and clutching her broken arm. Haruka had held her mother close to her, stroking her long white-blond hair, which was spotted in blood. Her father was long gone.
Finally, her mother returned with a cast on her arm and fading yellow bruises covering almost every inch of skin. Her father wasn't there.
Kotano and Haruka arrived home, and life went on, but her father never made an appearance.
"Where's Dad?" she asked her mother after a week, for Haruka was sensitive to her mother's moods and could see that Kotano was unwilling to talk. After a week of guessing, though, Haruka needed answers.
"Where's your father? Where's your father? In hell, I hope!" Kotano had yelled at her bewildered daughter, and slammed her bedroom door. After this violent outburst, Haruka decided to keep her questions to herself.
Finally, almost a month after Kotano's return from the hospital, she took Haruka onto the couch and told her that they were going to have a serious conversation. Haruka was intrigued, and curious; her mother seldom wanted to speak with her about something important.
"As you may be aware," began Kotano, "Your father has a temper, and he sometimes…lashes out. His drinking... alcohol, I mean, influences his temper. When he drinks, he hurts people. Do you understand?"
"Yeah," Haruka had replied, rather confused, "but if drinking beer makes him bad, then why does he drink it?"
"Because…because he's a man, I suppose…Anyways, to help him with his drinking problems…and other habits…he is at a rehabilitation clinic. Hopefully they can cure him. He should be back within the next few months. Do you understand?" asked Kotano.
"Kind of. So, Dad's sick off his beer, so he goes to the 'rehab-tion' centre to cure his disease? Like how you went to the hospital to fix your arm?"
Kotano nodded slowly, amazed at her daughter's comprehension of the difficult situation, grateful that she needed no further enlightenment. It was hard enough to explain as it was.
The months that her father was gone marked the first peaceful period of Haruka's life. However, three months later when her father returned life became even more hazardous than before.
Okura came back from the rehabilitation centre gaunt, nervous and edgy, but full of regrets. When Kotano brought him home from the clinic, he sobbed and cried, promising that he would be a new man. He sat on the sofa, wearing a clean white shirt with no cigarette burns or stains that hung off of him as if he were a coat rack. Kotano sat beside him, stroking his freshly cut blond hair and his bony face. He vowed to love his woman and child; her parents both became teary eyed, and embraced. Haruka was sceptical; was he the same man who had harassed her mother for as long as she could remember?
Despite her initial scepticism, Haruka forgave her father, letting him hold her on his lap and kiss her face, paradoxically on the same cheek that he had slapped not long before. She would give him a chance; after all, if her mother believed him, then shouldn't she?
Although he had been clean for over four months, Okura was still experiencing after effects from the drugs. He had been a serious addict for five years now, and had been into heavy drugs such as heroin and cocaine. Kotano had to take a leave of absence from her job as Okura needed to be monitored at all times, just in case he had a relapse.
Kotano explained all of this to her daughter, leaving out all references to drugs. She explained it in a way that made Haruka believe her father had a terminal illness, and not a terminal addiction. Haruka knew a kid who had cancer; her mother used the same terms as were applied to this child, so Haruka came to the conclusion that her father had cancer. Her mother said nothing to persuade her otherwise.
Occasionally they would do things as a family; go to the park, go shopping, but these instances were rare. Often Okura was too sick to leave his bed; in fact he was often so sick that Kotano had to lock him in his room.
On these occasions, Haruka would hide underneath the covers of her bed, her hands over her ears to block out the sounds of her father's anguished screams. Her mother would often climb into Haruka's bed as well, and they would cling to each other desperately. In the weeks following Okura's dismissal from the clinic, Kotano frequently slept in her daughter's room, partly because she was afraid of her fiancée, but mainly because she needed her daughter's comfort.
Ironically, Haruka liked her father more when he was on drugs.
When they ran out of money, Kotano was forced to return to work, and Haruka was left alone with her father when not in school, as they had no money to pay the babysitter. Haruka was forced to walk for over an hour from school everyday, on her own.
While her father writhed and moaned in his room, which Kotano kept a heavy cabinet in front of, Haruka would escape the house to play outside in the apartment's lot. There she was free of all her troubles; outside that horrible apartment Haruka could do as she pleased. She would play by herself, running about unsupervised, able to be loud and carefree. Often she would stay out all day, afraid to be alone with her father, even though he was unable to escape his room. Kotano would return home at ten o'clock at night, dead tired, and would find her daughter asleep on the steps.
The cravings were horrible; Okura would scream, beat his head against the wall, run his fingernails through his skin until it bled. Once when Kotano returned home and stepped into his room, she saw that he had torn apart the bed, thrown a chair at the window and cut open his arms from wrist to elbow. After this incident, he had to return to the clinic.
Haruka was ashamed to admit that she was happy that her father had had a relapse; it meant that the screaming stopped, that her mother stopped curling up on the floor in fetal position, and that her father was gone.
However, Haruka's relief was not long-lived, as Okura returned within a week. They simply did not have enough money to keep him there; his medical bills had put the family even further in debt.
He returned home sedated, white bandages wrapped around his wrists, unable to walk through the door without assistance. His eyes were dead, empty; he looked like a zombie. Haruka had almost cried when she saw him, but one swift look from her mother stopped her. Instead, she slowly walked over to him and hugged his emaciated body. He didn't react; it was like hugging a corpse.
This time, Kotano was forced to leave him alone when she went to work. She was forced to send Haruka to the baby-sitters after school, as Okura was unpredictable and prone to bouts of violence. Okura was able to leave the house at will, as no one was there to prevent him from doing so. Sadly, he frequently made use of this opportunity.
Because Kotano and Haruka were away from home during the day, and because Okura was asleep when they returned, it took them a while to notice a difference in Okura. Kotano was always exhausted, having to work sixty hours a week, and Haruka was too young, but gradually both noticed a change in Okura. The yellow tinge to his skin, the frequent nosebleeds and the extreme highs and lows all returned. Kotano frequently noticed money missing from her purse. A sickly sweet smell clung to his clothing, his breath smelt strongly of Listerine and smoke, and his lips were abnormally dry to the point of blistering and cracking. Although Kotano suspected that Okura had a relapse, she was unable to voice her suspicions. She had no solid proof, but these symptoms put Kotano on her guard.
Despite initial uncertainties, life went on for Haruka and her mother until the day when the suspicions were proven to be true.
Then, all hell broke loose.
One fateful Saturday in December as Haruka was preparing for bed the sounds of a fight erupted. After Okura's second homecoming, her parents seldom spoke to each other, let alone fought, so this sudden turn of events was unanticipated. The sounds escalated; Haruka became frightened. The only other time she could remember a fight this bad was when her father had put her mother in the hospital.
Cautiously, Haruka peered from behind her bedroom door and watched the scene unfold before her.
Her parents were standing in front of their bedroom, facing each other like prizefighters. Her mother was on the offence, and her father the defensive. Her mother was furious and enraged, her father shifty and adverse.
"What the hell were you thinking?" screamed her mother at her father, disbelief and contempt heavy in her voice.
"You had better watch your mouth, you bitch…" her father had replied threateningly.
"I'll say as I damn well please, Okura! After all of the shit you put us through, after all the months in that damned clinic, after you came home and made life a living hell…you go and do a stupid thing like this! You bastard!"
He slapped her, hard, across the mouth, but she stood her ground defiantly.
"You dare to hit me, after you broke my arm…"
"I'll make that injury seem like a scratch if you don't shut up…" Okura moved towards her again, but Kotano retreated into the kitchen.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing…holy shit!" he gasped in shock as she returned, a carving knife clenched in her hand.
"Hit me again and I swear I'll use it…"
Haruka gasped; her mother looked as if she really meant it. Paralysed with fear, Haruka had no idea what to do. If she tried to stop them, she could be caught in the crossfire, but if she just stood by…
"Mom," she whispered, but was unheard. The screaming had escalated again; her father was relentless in his pursuit, her mother was determined to finish her speech.
"Just guess what I found underneath the bed today, Okura?" she teased menacingly, waving the knife before her face.
"Kotano…"he started, but was cut off.
"Just guess? Give up? OK, I'll tell you…a small baggy of white powder…white powder…COCAINE!" She screamed as loud as she could; her voice vibrated throughout the apartment.
"Look…"
"Cocaine! Oh, you thought that you were so smart, trading the needles for powder…so smart, thinking that with no tracks, I wouldn't figure it out…but you got careless, and left your stash in plain view…"
Cocaine? Haruka knew vaguely what that was from her teacher, a bad drug that bad people sold to bad kids…something to do with peer-pressure…what was her father doing with cocaine?
"Look, just shut up, already. It was just a few hits, nothing serious, just to take the edge off…"
"With you its never a few hits, with you its all or nothing. All these nights that I've come home, dead tired, thinking 'oh how nice poor Okura is finally able to fall asleep without the cravings blah blah blah'…and now this! You haven't been overcoming your cravings; they've been overcoming you! You gave in! You bastard, after you promised, you coward…"
The word coward awoke Okura from his submissive stance; being called what one feared most of being enraged him to the point of fury.
"Shut up!" with a cry, Okura lunged at Kotano with the swiftness of a panther; too startled to react, Kotano was knocked to the ground with Okura landing on top. He grabbed the knife from her hand, and held it threateningly to her neck. Her struggling instantly stopped and her face paled drastically. From her bedroom, Haruka began to cry, but her father was oblivious.
How quickly the tides could turn.
"Say one word or move one inch and I'll slit your throat from ear to ear, you hear?" he rasped, his foul breath on her face; involuntarily she gagged.
"Yeh-yeh-yes…" she stammered.
"Good. That's real good. Now look here, bitch, I've had it up to hear with your bitching and your nagging and your other assorted bullshit…and I'm not going to put up with it anymore. You got that?
"I-I-I.."
"Good. Now listen to what I'm going to say, and listen well. You have no power over me. None. Maybe I did say I was going to give it up, and maybe I did say that I'd love and cherish you and all that shit…but that's all it was, Kotano. Shit. Just shit I said to keep you off my back…and the cops, too."
Okura grinned; it was a grin more frightening than any frown or grimace. He looked mad, psychotic…
"I am a man, Kotano, and as a man, whatever I say, goes. If I want to flush my life down the shit-hole, if I want to get as high as a fucking kite…then I'll do it. Because I'm a man, and my word is law, and you can't do anything to stop me. I'm fed up with you trying to control me, I'm fed up with you trying to overthrow me…hell, I'm fed up with you. But that's all going to change, isn't it? Isn't it!"
"Ye-ye-yes…"
"Yes, my dear, it is all going to change. You know the lyrics, 'the times are a-changing'…or something along those lines; I forget exactly…who sung that anyways?
"Buh-Bob Dylan…"
"Oh, yeah! I almost forgot, it's a good thing that I've got a smart bitch like you around to remind me…now where was I…oh, yes, I remember! I was asserting my dominance over you…" He grinned and ran the knife gently down her throat with just enough pressure to break the skin. He laughed fanatically as he did so.
"You're high, Okura, please, its not you talking, it's those damned drugs…" whispered Kotano hopefully, struggling for understanding.
"No, It's me, darling. Its all me; its always been me. The drugs just give me the fucking balls to do so." He laughed, and pressed himself close to Kotano; with horror she could feel his growing erection.
He lowered the knife to her chest, and with one swift motion cut the bodice of her nightgown. Her breasts were exposed; Kotano screamed as he bit her, hard…he just laughed.
"You dare to question my dominance, my masculinity…I'll show you whose boss around here…" Okura pulled up her nightgown and struggled out of his pants, managing to keep the hand with the knife level with her chest. Kotano was too afraid to struggle; her throat was too dry to scream…all she could do was cry silent tears and wait for it to be over.
He mounted her like an animal and dry-humped her, passionlessly, as she lay there, so still, so still but the convulsive motions his thrusting manipulated her body to perform, so still…
Haruka saw everything.
When he was finished, he stood up unsteadily but with a triumphant smirk on his face.
'How do you like them apples," he laughed clumsily, laughing slightly. Kotano remained motionless, a limp doll, broken and discarded. Her eyes were closed. Was she unconscious?
Okura kicked her side, and she groaned slightly.
"Stupid bitch," he muttered, picking up the knife and holding it before his eyes.
He debated whether he should further punish her or not, but before he had a chance to decide, he felt a pain in his leg. Looking down, he was mildly surprised to see his daughter standing in front of Kotano, and that she had kicked him. Hard.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He yelled, and slapped her face. She fell to the ground, landing on top of her mother. Although the slap stung, she did not cry. Instead, she turned her head to face her father. On her face was a defiant expression.
"Those eyes," he vaguely thought, but was too enraged to consider just what about them caused him fear. He was blinded by rage: first his wife, and now his daughter! Challenging him, fighting back…he raised his hand…
She stood before him, anticipating the hit, feeling the rush of wind as he drew back his hand; she closed her eyes, resigned to the fact that he was capable of anything…
Nothing happened.
For, just as Okura had prepared to strike her, something stopped his hand from colliding with the face of his daughter. A force prevented him from moving his hand; he looked at his hand…and gasped.
Around his wrist was the hand of another.
He looked at his daughter; behind her was the ghostly figure of a tall woman whom his daughter resembled. This woman, standing nearly as tall as him, translucent, with short blond hair and green rimmed blue-grey eyes…his daughter's eyes… wearing a strange uniform. A soldier. She held his wrist in a grip so tight that he was incapable of movement.
Desperately he struggled, but to no avail. He tried to scream, but his throat was strangely dry. He stared transfixed into the mysterious soldier's eyes, fear causing him to break into a cold sweat, body shaking, but unable to look away.
A sign appeared on her forehead, its meaning unknown to him. The same sign appeared on the forehead of his daughter.
"What…" he gasped, not understanding but afraid none the less.
{She has her eyes, the same sign upon their foreheads}
Haruka felt a presence behind her, the presence of someone she knew but could not remember. She wanted to open her eyes, but the presence prevented her from doing so. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and a voice in her head (Don't be afraid little one I'll protect you). The presence reassured her; she was no longer afraid.
The ghostly figure of the woman stared deep into Okura's eyes, able to threaten him without words…the sign burned on both her and Haruka's foreheads…
Okura backed away as the hand suddenly let go of his; he stumbled back and landed on his ass. The figure gave him one final glare, and embraced the girl in front of her. Then she disappeared.
Haruka's eyes remained closed.
The woman had only been present several seconds, but for Okura, time had stopped. Her eyes haunted him; he could still feel their glare after she had disappeared.
Something had happened; the balance of power had shifted.
He did not understand just what had happened, but Okura knew that the woman was connected to his daughter in some way. That for whatever reason, this woman was bound to protect his daughter…
He was afraid.
Okura fled from the apartment. He would never return.
The sign on her forehead disappeared. Haruka opened her eyes as the door slammed behind her father. He was gone. At last.
Her mother's eyelids fluttered. Haruka knelt beside her and stroked her hair lovingly. Her poor mother, doomed to pay for a mistake she once made, to suffer at the hands of her husband, slave to a desire she had no control over…
But that no longer mattered. Her father was gone, this time for good. He was too afraid to return. Just what had scared him she did not know, but she was grateful all the same.
"Thank-you," she whispered.
**********
How do you like the story so far? I know its kind of dark and depressing, but for Haruka to become the strong person she is I believe that she had to face some serious battles. Her kind of strength is not inherited, it is earned through trials and suffering.
BTW, thanks to Distantskyking for the idea of naming Part One…it's perfect!
Thanks for reading, your comments are appreciated and welcomed J
-Brandt