How could my son have hurt that boy so badly? Ichiro sighed and sat at the desk in his home office. He placed his suitcase against the wall, thinking about the voicemail his wife, Hitomi, had just played for him from Diya's school.

Normally, Ichiro would go to his son's room when he returned home and spend time with him until Hitomi finished dinner. Diya didn't leave his room much and the house reflected that. The entire house, while still cozy, had the air of a childless couple. It was neat, efficient, and quiet. As Ichiro would open Diya's door, he would be greeted with the bright yellow of his wall, the color that he picked when they had moved in. Ichiro chuckled as he remembered Diya choosing it because the blue walls made the room too dark at night time. Magazines would be spread on the floor, and his son would be listening to music or be on his computer. He would look up, see his father, and give him a hug.

Ichiro couldn't bring himself to do that today, he was far too upset with Diya. His son had never had any behavioral issues at school in the past. He was furious that Diya had hurt one of his peers.

"Diya should know that the Nagatas are not thugs. How could he shame us like this?" Ichiro grunted to himself, feeling almost as if he was holding back tears. "Diya hasn't hurt a single person since we were in Ushaiger. What's going on with him?"

On the other side of the house, Diya could feel the change in atmosphere when his dad returned. Diya's room typically was immune to the influence of outside emotions, but his father had never been this angry with him before.

I can't keep thinking about this, Diya thought as he paced back and forth in his room. I have such a stomachache. Sometimes his stomachaches were exaggerated to get him out of situations he didn't want to be in, but this one was genuine. He felt like his stomach was tearing itself apart. He looked behind him at his computer. I could see if there's any new reviews on that chapter of Pink Dark Boy.

Diya took a deep breath as he booted up his computer and accessed the Pink Dark Boy forums. Once the webpage loaded, Diya felt his stomach drop as he read the title of the first post on the top of the site, "I HATE ROHAN KISHIBE." With dread in his heart, he clicked on the post and began reading aloud.

"You idiots can keep on deleting my posts and making fun of my all you like. At least I'm not a damn sheep like you all. Kishibe's work has sucked since fall of 1999, but you all keep eating it up. You don't give him a chance to try anything new and that's why it sucks now! I visited Rohan the other day at his house and he even thinks this crap is good. This is what you've done to him you idiots. I hope he remembers me for a long time."

This person… This person went to Rohan's house? Diya trembled. The man who has made my favorite site a place of aggression is in my town? Is Rohan safe? He took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. Rohan seems to be a capable Stand user, he would easily defend himself from a random person on the internet.

Diya looked at the red bar under the post stating "USER WAS BANNED FOR THIS POST." This is still very bizarre. Why would the man who has left mean comments on this forum for a year just now show up in my town? Diya could feel the anxiety build in his heart, his fingers wound themselves tightly into his thick dark hair. His chest felt like it was made of stone and would not allow him to breathe. I cannot shake this feeling that destiny is pulling me towards something. I wish I never moved here, Diya's mind began spiraling. I wish I never gained the ability to see Stands, I wish that I could feel safe, I wish-

"Diya! It's time for dinner!" he heard his father call sternly from the dining room. Diya flew out of his chair onto the ground, scared by the sudden and sharp call from his father. He wasn't used to hearing his father sound like this. He knew it was time for him to walk the last mile before his execution. He gasped for air and tried his best to steady his breathing.

A few minutes later, Diya quietly sulked into the dining room. He sat in his spot across from his father, who tonight seemed a thousand kilometers away at his end of the table. Ichiro sat silently with his fingers intertwined in front of his face, as if he was thinking. Ichiro was almost entirely obscured by the fresh soup in front of the three of them, he was almost entirely a silhouette. His head was angled down at Diya, but the sunset cast a glare in his glasses making it hard to tell what Ichiro was feeling. He was afraid, but this was his father. If anyone would understand him and sympathize, it was him.

"Father, I-"

"Diya," Ichiro said shortly. Diya stopped and gulped. "Do you know why I became a doctor?"

"To help alleviate the pain in the world." Diya answered, remembering one of his many conversations with his dad.

"Then why did you cause pain to your classmate?" As the sun set further in the west, the glare in Ichiro's glasses disappeared to reveal his hard eyes aimed directly at Diya. The steam cleared and Ichiro's body was no longer obscured as Diya saw his father's body tense with anger. The room quickly went from uncertain to hostile and Diya felt cold sweat run down his forehead like a faucet.

"Dad, Kato would have beaten up Hayato. I didn't even mean to get involved!" Diya rationalized to his father, but Ichiro was not interested.

"Diya Nagata!" Ichiro bellowed. "I will not raise a delinquent in this house! You will not attack your classmates for any reason!" He threw his finger across the table and aimed it at Diya's heart. "Diya Nagata, my one and only son. You should know better than this. I have never been more disappointed by you than I am at this moment." With those words, Diya felt a shock to his body. It was as if his father's finger had shot an actual bullet into Diya's heart.

There was silence in the air as Diya felt wetness build up behind his eyes and in his nose. The only thing keeping him together was the sheer willpower he had gained over the past two days, but that will power was as solid as gelatin. The hot steam from the soup continued to dissipate in the air, causing an uncomfortable heat. Diya sat with reddening eyes, staring into his soup ashamed.

Diya could feel the walls of his willpower begin to crack as his father's finger stayed pointed at his chest. Behind his father, the thermostat rose by one degree. It was at that moment that his resolve broke. Nearly instantly, a river of tears flowed from his eyes; a river of snot from his nose. Diya sobbed and rushed out of his seat, knocking his soup onto the ground. The glass shattered on the tile as he sped into his bedroom and slammed the door.

Ichiro rose from his seat in deep regret and took a step to follow. Hitomi placed her hand on her husband's and he stopped. The two of them silently looked down the hallway at their son's locked door.

Diya threw himself into his bed. He had no thoughts, he had nothing but an intense feeling of shame. He felt no connection to the world around him, or even to his own identity as he sobbed into his pillow. After a half hour of sobbing, Diya fell asleep at 8 P.M.

Deep in his backpack, under his school books, a small digital watch flashed on and off. The watch read 9:00 P.M. Next to the flashing watch was an orange bottle full of pills. Diya did not hear the alarm playing in his book bag. Diya's eyes twitched and his mouth contorted into a grimace as he began kicking his blankets.

Down the road, Okuyasu was back at work at the Kame-Yu. When he had arrived home in the afternoon, he tried to rest. He hadn't even slept an hour when his dad had come in with a broken cable box. Okuyasu tried to explain to his dad that he needed to sleep so he could go back to work that night, but he began crying when Okuyasu explained he couldn't get it replaced tonight. Eventually Okuyasu broke down and agreed to get it replaced, and that adventure took three hours.

Boy am I tired… Okuyasu yawned as he swept his eyes across the empty store. It's a Tuesday night, all of the people of Morioh are home. No one will come in tonight, I could probably rest my eyes for a bit…