Chapter 40 - Fracture

"Mom?" called Kusuo. "Are you okay?"

Kurumi was startled out of a reverie.

She had been in the middle of peeling a couple of carrots and potatoes. The cut onions and cubed beef were already in small dishes to the side. The untouched vegetables were the green onions and garlic. It was all in preparation of curry, a traditionally simple meal to make, given the modern conveniences. Prepare the vegetables, sized the selected protein, boil them in a pot of hot water, add the prepackaged curry mix, and voila! Instant savory meal in less than half an hour.

Except, Kurumi had been standing in the kitchen for nearly an hour. Spacing out. She had not prepared the pot of water for boiling, or remembered that she was currently out of curry mix. The rice, which took nearly an hour in their Zojiurishi rice cooker, had not been started. She held the all-purpose chef's knife, a poorly peeled potato in her left hand as if she wasn't sure what to do with it. She had been so spaced out not to notice that Kusuo came home for his usual 'lunch break' from his 'day job' and had been watching her standing there for at least ten minutes since he teleported back.

"Yes, Ku-chan," Kurumi said listlessly, like she was repeating an automatic, pre-programmed response. Her hand started moving again, knife against the potato. "I'm fine."

Kusuo did not believe her but did not press the issue.

Grandmother Risa had said that Kurumi's behavior would be erratic for a while.

Even though Kurumi seemed to have gotten a little better, since she finally returned to attempting her usual duties as a housewife, her behavior had been inconsistent. What she used to do well, like catching evil bugs, she was slow and missed. Her food was barely edible even though she spent as much, if not more, time in food preparation. She could not be trusted with a vacuum. She was a solicitous friend to her mom friends, who came to visit and console her, but talked far less.

So far, Kusuo had dealt with his mother's behavior the best he could, which was to go through the motions of normalcy. He learned to slightly overcome his fear of bugs. He swallowed items that were barely considered food. He still got take out often since that was near guaranteed to be edible. He mopped, dusted, and wiped, which was not exactly burdensome, given the versatility of his psychokinesis, but still took up his precious free time. He supervised each of the mom friend visits to the best of his ability and availability.

And when all seemed well, Kurumi would go back to her newly acquired habit of day-long half-sleep, whimpering and sobbing.

Let's not add Kusuo's father back in the mix. That was another unpleasant headache in itself.

Kusuo was not sure when was the last time he and his father talked.

Kuniharu was not going out of his way to speak with Kusuo either. Kuniharu seemed far more occupied with work and talking to Kurumi.

So far, Kusuo was able to avoid all instances when his parents were together and kept wearing his germanium ring whenever Kusuo had the threat of even being near either one of them. Kusuo did not need to hear how his parents felt about Kuusuke's passing, again. Even more, Kuniharu's interactions with Kurumi would inevitably devolve into an argument about that thing.

Kusuo refused to know what that thing was. Kusuo's life was already too troublesome to add another brick of useless, unpleasant knowledge.

At least his father was reliably out of the way.

Kuniharu was clearly upset by the loss of his eldest son, but he was considerate enough not to let grief turn him into a near invalid who needed care.

Who could have predicted that Kuniharu, out of Kusuo's parents, would be the dependable, self-sufficient one here?

Was everything before an act?

Kusuo tried not to concern himself too much with that pattern of thought. Kusuo reasoned that if his parents still had the strength to fight each other, then they must be well enough for Kusuo not to interfere.

When Kusuo did think about their current condition, though, he only felt like breaking something over how confounding his parents' behavioral change was.

Logically, even with Kuusuke gone, nothing in their lives had materialistically changed.

His parents still lived in the same house, worked the same jobs, had the same bills, the same neighbors, the same TV, the same appliances, and the same little constant irritations. Granted Kusuo was now out of the house a lot more, but the daily demands of life, and the absence of Kuusuke, had not changed at all.

The Saiki family, by the way of Kuusuke's worldly precociousness and Kusuo's time manipulations, was used to a life with just Kuniharu, Kurumi and Kusuo. Kuusuke went off to college ages ago and had trained their parents and Kusuo not to expect his regular participation in their lives. There was no phone call, no email, no contact. Kuusuke was generally being a pest anyways, at least in Kusuo's questionable memory, so having Kuusuke out of the house brought much-needed peace.

Kuusuke did, call about every six months or so. Kuusuke would pop back into their lives like a flying cockroach. Most often, on a screen in the house, he would appear like he still lived with them. Kuusuke would be all smiles, tell them that school was a bore, his side activities were interesting enough, that everything was good, get distracted by pretty lights, then go silent on them for another six months. At the time, Kusuo did his best to avoid all those intrusions, since Kuusuke was annoying and disrupted the predictability of Kusuo's life.

This current period of absence was far shorter than Kuusuke's usual disappearing act in the past. But the intellectual knowledge that Kuusuke was fully out of reach now seemed to have completely altered their parents' behavior.

It was all very inconvenient and distracting.

But if Toritsuka, Aiura, and Akechi were correct that Kuusuke's ghost was still around, then maybe Kusuo could somehow force Kuusuke's ghost to give their parents, at least their mother, some last parting words? To console them? Give them closure.

If Kuusuke's ghost remembered anything about a past life, that is. And even if Kuusuke's ghost remembered its past life, would his ghost even say the right words? Or would that interaction only worsen their parent's mental state?

Then there was the wrinkle of Kuusuke's psychic powers that might have bled over into the afterlife. The usual rules on ghosts and spirits might not apply to espers.

Case in point, Kusuo's own astral projection, which is a form of a ghost, seemed to follow a different set of cause and effect compared to all the ghosts in Toritsuka's experience.

Considering Kusuo's crappy luck, the new set of rules would not be the usual gag-manga-worthy-fun-and-games, but the make-Kusuo's-life-seriously-difficult type of rules.

So far, Kusuo had not dwell much about the specifics of Kuusuke's abilities, since that was a waste of mental energy in Kusuo's efforts to recreate the Limiter technology.

If Kusuo was to confront Kuusuke's ghost, though, then it'd do Kusuo some good to know what exactly Kuusuke could do. And if Kuusuke's ghost did retain the memory of a past life, Kusuo hoped that maybe there exists some type of telepathic information transfer to quickly extract the understanding of the Limiters.

And if Kuusuke's ghost was obstinate, then Kusuo would have to resort to force.

No. Trying to use Kuusuke's ghost to fix their parents was too risky. Kusuo needed something more reliable.

Maybe Kusuo should try hypnosis, instead? On his parents? That would far more predictable, since Kusuo held all the cards and control on that interaction.

Maybe Kusuo should make it so that his parents did not even remember that Kuusuke existed at all?

It would not even be that much stretch of the truth.

If Kuusuke never existed in his parent's memories, then Kurumi would go back to her usual, cheerful self. Kuniharu would go back to the annoying, below-par salaryman that he was. Then both of them would be that disgustingly lovey-dovey couple whom Kusuo was used to roll his eyes at again.

It wasn't like Kuusuke hadn't already implemented such mind control to keep his family from thinking about their eldest son in the first place. Kusuo would simply reinforce that perception.

It'd be an unobtrusive, elegant, simple, and expedient solution.

Once his parents went back to their happy-go-lucky ways, then strange heated pressure on Kusuo's chest each time he had to resist the urge to shout at them for being so listless, to be so self-absorbed in their grief, demand that they be a little less selfish, might decrease.

The possible lifetime of deception felt like it'd worth the relief.

"What are you looking at Ku-chan?" asked Kurumi.

This time, it was Kusuo who had spaced out.

Kurumi had walked over to place seaweed salad on the table. It was another unexpected mistake for a housewife. Never mind that curry and seaweed salad did not pair as a food selection. Seaweed salad should have been brought out of the fridge last.

Kusuo was seated at the dinner table, Kuusuke's journal in front of him. If Kusuo recalled correctly, this was probably the first time his mother saw Kusuo studying the esoteric writing.

Wordlessly Kusuo pushed the journal to Kurumi, without any expectation.

Kurumi glanced at the written notations. "Oh. I remember these," she said with what probably was one of the first genuinely happier expressions Kusuo had seen in some time.

"Ku-kun would stay up all night writing in them," Kurumi said. She turned a page to one of the pages with a graphic illustration that looked like a standard sine wave. She traced the line, a rare half-smile on her face, reminiscing about her little boy. "I remember that time. You were in fourth grade, I think. You would fever so often that you would pass out. Ku-kun would never leave your side when that happened. He would write furiously in these notebooks while we waited for you to wake up. Whenever I ask him what he was writing about, he always said that 'It's for Kusuo. Everything is alright.'"

Kurumi's words set something off deep in Kusuo's psyche. He felt the twisting of the guts, clenching of the fists, a snarl ready at the lips. He snatched the notebook away from Kurumi, closed it heavily like he was slamming a door close.

For some reason, Kusuo did not want to hear any hint, any scrap, any bit of evidence that Kuusuke cared.

If Kuusuke truly cared, then Kusuuke should have not left Kusuo with so much to deal with. Kuusuke should have forced Kusuo to learn the limiter assembly. Kuusuke should not have wasted time working on Kusuo's different generations of Limiters. Kusuuke should have figured out how to prevent his own god damn flashover. Kuusuke should have heard that nail-against-chalkboard rendition of the birthday song, seen the world's most unappetizing, fire-hazard pancake cake. Kuusuke should have already teased Kusuo about being so easily goaded into participating in something as stupid as that.

If Kuusuke cared, then Kuusuke should still be here.

Kurumi only stared at Kusuo, seemingly unaffected by Kusuo's suddenly inexplicable behavior. "Everything is alright, isn't it?" asked Kurumi mechanically, that half-smile froze on her face like a mask. Her eyes were half-lidded, as if she was a robot, executing her earlier program of canned, automatic responses.

It was then that Kusuo noticed that the pupils of Kurumi's eyes were black, almost completely dilated. The familiar violet iris so reminiscent of Kusuo's own eyes, one of those rare hints that he was her issue, was a faint dark violet ring.

Her movements, her smile, her almost normal description of that time when Kusuuke was working on the first generation of Limiters, seemed prolonged. She was like a lagging machine, partially stuck in an infinite logic loop. Except that this loop was similar to the one where she was displeased with him about something, whether it be him being unsociable or being an impolite young man. She seemed to embody the chilling calm before the storm.

"Yes, mom," said Kusuo as he was suddenly snapped back to attention. He suppressed an unfamiliar shiver going down his spine.

Kurumi's entire bodily movement paused for longer than natural.

"Okay," Kurumi sang, her former cheerful self resurfaced. "I was talking to Kuboyasu Yoko earlier. She mentioned that the last day of school is tomorrow and her boy Aren-kun has a summer job lined up."

The mood and topic change was sudden. Kurumi began to chat rapidly.

"Kuboyasu-san was considering enrolling Aren-kun in some type of night-time cram school after his summer day job," said Kurumi. "Aren-kun told her that he wanted to be teacher, you know. I heard that his grades aren't the best so he'll need that extra boost."

From there, Kurumi spoke more of what else his PK Academy school friends had planned for summer. Kurumi talked about Kaidou Shun's plan, which was endless cram school. It sounded like Nendou Riki would be helping out with the 'family business' by going on a tour with Nakanishi Kouta.

Somehow, Kurumi knew the summer plans of a few others classmates. Hairo Kineshi was off to tennis camp before doing a short three-week volunteer with the local police department. Zolbe, the only black student at PK Academy who wore dreads was going to visit his family overseas. Satou's mom, who had only been to the mom's outing only once, had told everyone that her son, Satou Hiroshi, had zero plans and was probably going to read manga all summer, much to her disappointment.

Yeesh. With gossipmonger moms like these, who needed blabbermouth friends like Yumehara and Rifuta, or telepathy for that matter?

"What will you be doing for the summer, Ku-chan?" Kurumi asked, once her long exposition of everyone's summer plans was complete.

Kusuo only shrugged, not feeling like expounding on his heavily scheduled foreseeable future of study and work. He did think he should tell her of a big change. "I'm moving to London."

Kurumi blinked. Her momentary return to her old self fading almost immediately as a frown graced her lips. "What?"

Refusing to see his mother's expression, Kusuo distracted his mind by focusing on the scuff marks and the little doodle of a rocket on the journal cover before him. He tried to remember his parent's reaction when Kuusuke told their parents of the same news many years ago.

Did mom act similarly? Was the manner of telling off-handed? Did Kuusuke feel the same numbness, when he first told their parents that he was going to leave? Why couldn't Kusuo remember that exact moment?

Why did Kuusuke went to college so early, and abroad anyways? It was not like there were no good domestic colleges. Sure. Cambridge University was known as the world's premier institution for mathematics. Kusuo was only going to Oxford University, a second-best school, out of convenience, and to avoid everyone who no doubt remembered Kuusuke at Cambridge University.

Perhaps Kuusuke knew about flashover back then? Was Kuusuke's seemingly effortless pursuit of higher education, in reality, a desperate effort to further the science of the limiter? Fully knowing that there was an inescapable time limit on his life?

"I've been accepted into Oxford," Kusuo noted presently. "I've registered for their summer semester. It'd look more normal if I live there." Kusuo decided against telling her about his role at Psi Industries. That knowledge carried vast implications for their lifestyle, should his parents demand it. Kusuo knew himself well enough that he could not say 'no' to them should they ask. At the moment, Kusuo did not feel like he could tolerate another change.

"Well, you'll come back after the summer, right?" asked Kurumi. "To finish high school."

Kusuo barely shook his head. "No. I plan on taking the full course load from here on out. I'll only come back to finish the remaining administrative activities with PK Academy. It's what PK Academy agreed to."

There was a long silence from Kurumi.

Hesitantly, Kusuo looked up to see his mother's expression.

Kurumi was breathing through her mouth. Her chest visibly moved. Her eyes had that liquidy shine from an accumulation of tears. Her face had twisted in a manner where it was difficult to figure if she took it as good news.

Kusuo furrowed his brows a little as he fingered his germanium ring, struggling against his need to know how his mother felt about such news and the resolve not to hear his mother's thoughts in her current state.

-Psychics with powerful telepathy go insane if they do no protect their own thoughts against thoughts of others- was Grandmother Risa's warning. -It's a miracle that you've kept your sanity intact all this time. But do not continue to tempt fate, especially when you haven't figured out how to recreate your control devices.-

The memory of Risa's wisdom caused Kusuo to let go of the ring on his finger. Instead, he focused on the conversation.

"Mom?" called Kusuo. "You are happy that I got into Oxford, right?"

Kurumi swallowed and forced a smile. "Yes. I am very happy. Ku-chan." In a quieter voice, she repeated to herself, "Very happy. I'm just as happy as when Ku-kun told us that he's going to Cambridge." She looked around the dinner table and quickly said, "We should celebrate. I'm going to the store to get some additional deli take-out. Curry isn't good enough for such good news."

In no time, Kurumi had rushed over to the door and fumbled with her keys, her purse, and a reusable grocery bag. She seemed to be in a hurry to get out of her youngest child's presence.

Kusuo was left alone at the dining room table as Kurumi went out the door.

He didn't move as he mutely noted the dark wet spots on the dining room table. He thought about Kurumi's expression before she turned to leave the room.

Despite news that would easily sent parents into a tizzy of celebration, Kurumi was trying her hardest not to bawl in dismay.

Once Kusuo knew Kurumi was a good distance away from the house, he sighed and buried his face in his hands.