…in which Makoto fights with her father and stuff gets crazy.
"…if you keep treating her like this."
"She's just as much my daughter as she is yours!"
"That doesn't necessarily mean you can keep doing this, you know."
Makoto groaned loudly. "I'm trying to sleep in here!" she called. "It's a Saturday and my leg is aching! What are you two yelling about so early in the morning?"
There was silence from her parents' room where there had previously been shouting.
"It's nothing, dear," her mother called. "Go back to sleep."
Makoto yawned. "…are you sure? If you need anything—"
"Go to sleep," her mother repeated. "I can wake you up when it's time."
"No," her father corrected. "You just got off of the crutches. Go outside and exercise your leg. I want you to strengthen it again."
"Exactly, she just got off crutches! She deserves a break!"
"You're not the one raising her!"
"I raise her far more than you ever have!" The voice of Makoto's mother slashed through the air, a raised voice Makoto rarely heard. "You leave your wife and your only daughter at home when you go to race around the country, and when you come back the first thing you do is make her work her tail off! And yet you still have the nerve to keep raising her as a boy! Listen to me, Osamu, she's growing up. If you would just let her, she would be such a beautiful young lady."
Makoto blushed slightly, torn between feeling flattered at her mother's compliments and being worried about all the yelling. "Are you guys…fighting about me?"
"We're not fighting," her mother insisted. "It's simply a heated discussion."
"I told you to go outside," her father snapped.
"Mom told me to rest," Makoto pointed out cautiously. "I'm not sure which of you to listen to."
There was the sound of heavy footsteps approaching, a loud yell, lighter footsteps, and then the door to Makoto's bedroom swung open, revealing her very angry-looking father in the doorway. On instinct, the boyish girl scooted as far against the back of the bed as she could and bundled up in her blankets to hide.
"How about you listen to me and get your lazy butt outside?! What you two don't understand is that I am the man of the house, and you're just the women who work beneath me! Isn't that the way it's supposed to go?!" her father screamed.
"I may as well not be," Makoto muttered. She immediately hid her mouth and nose beneath the blankets.
Her father took a few steps inside, and Makoto could see her mother standing behind him in worry. "What did you say, young lady?"
"I said, I may as well not be," Makoto said again, uncovering her mouth and then covering it again when she finished.
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that at the rate things are going, I'm about eighty-percent male and thirteen-percent female. The other seven-percent is too confused to pick a side."
Her father stepped farther into the room until he was right beside her. Makoto shrunk into her blankets.
"I've raised you like this because—"
"Because what, exactly?" Makoto blurted. "Why did you raise me like this? Because you wanted a son? That's not exactly a very good reaso—"
She was cut off when her father's hand snapped across her face, hard enough that it left behind a red mark. Her mother let out a cry in the distance.
"You will never interrupt me when I am talking to you ever again," he hissed. "Do you understand me?"
Makoto only nodded and tried to hold back the tears in her eyes. Crying in front of her father now would be the worst decision of her life.
"Now, are you going to do as you're told for once in your miserable life and listen to me?"
"Osamu!" her mother lashed. "Leave her alone, alright? She's hurt and you hit her!"
"She deserved it!" Makoto's father faced her again and reached out to grab a hold of his daughter's wrist, dragging her off of the bed. Makoto stumbled to her feet. "Now come on! You're going outside, alright?!"
"I told you to leave her alone!"
Makoto cast her mother a glance, a fury in the woman's eyes Makoto hadn't seen in a very long time. She stomped over to the pair and placed her hands on her hips.
"Now let go of her and let her go back to bed. She needs the rest!"
"You think you have the right to confront me like this?! Listen to me, I'm the man of this house! You all follow after me! Now don't you contradict me like this!"
"Don't you talk to me like that! Whether I am a woman or not, I'm still your wife, and I deserve respect from you, OK?!"
"Would you two stop it?!" Makoto cried. "Please! I'll go outside, it's OK! Just stop yelling!"
"I'm not yelling!" her father shouted. "And don't you dare yell at me, young man!"
"I'm not a boy, OK?!" Makoto yelled. The room went silent for a moment. "…I wish you would stop treating me like I'm some sort of male superhuman. I know I'm stronger and faster than the average girl, and I know you've raised me like a boy, and I know I act that way, but in truth I'm just a teenaged girl! And I don't appreciate you behaving like I'm just some independent adult man who can easily do whatever impossible task you give me perfectly and without hesitation! I can't do everything, I get hurt just like everyone else, and honestly, I would much rather rest peacefully right now than go try to run around on my still-injured leg and possibly fracture it again."
There was another lengthy silence. Makoto wondered how much longer she would live before her father brutally murdered her for speaking out against him. At last, the strict and gruff man spoke again.
"I want you out of my house."
"What?" Makoto gasped. "I…b-but—"
"I said, get out of my house!" her father repeated, angrily shoving his daughter towards the door. "I am not going to stand here and let my teenaged daughter yell and scream at me! Now get out of my house!"
"Osamu, are you kicking your teenaged daughter out of the house?!" Makoto's mother yelped.
"Why not? The whole reason I raised her like this was because I wanted her to be independent, and she's nineteen already anyways! It's time for her to get out on her own!" her father responded. "Now, I'm going to go take a shower. If you are not out of here by the time I get back, I am going to kick you out—literally. Do you understand me, Makoto?"
Makoto again struggled to hold in her tears. She drew in a deep breath through her nose, looking to her mother for comfort. The woman cast her daughter a pained glance, glared angrily at her husband, and then stormed out of the room in a huff. Makoto looked over at her father again and forced herself to stare into his eyes.
"Yes. I understand, sir," she muttered. Her father gave her a curt nod.
"I'll be gone for about half an hour. You had better be gone when I get back."
"…yes sir."
He turned and stalked off, leaving Makoto alone in her room. When she was positive her father could no longer hear her, she dropped to the ground and broke into tears, both terrified and greatly upset by her father's words. Not surprisingly, her mother soon entered the room and sat beside her, giving the girl a tight hug. Makoto embraced her and sobbed loudly into her shoulder.
"It'll be alright, honey," her mother soothed. "I'm sorry. You must be very shaken."
"I don't know what I'm going to do, or where to go!" Makoto wailed. "How does he expect me to survive out there? I'm just a kid at heart, really! I break the fourth wall almost daily! I sleep snuggling a giant glob of blankets! I just got my first boyfriend approximately six months ago! I'm not ready to live by myself!"
"Don't you have friends?" her mother asked gently. "I'm sure some of them wouldn't mind letting you move in with them. In the meantime, I'll help you pack."
"You have to help me," Makoto pleaded. "Don't let me go."
"I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do for you anymore," her mother sighed. "You know how your father is."
Makoto sniffled loudly and snuggled into her mother's shoulder. They stayed in the embrace for a long time before finally separating. Makoto's mother instantly went to go gather some things for her daughter while Makoto herself wiped her eyes before going to help her. They eventually managed to gather up the required supplies, and both females slowly walked outside. Makoto and her mother exchanged one final hug before the former mounted her bicycle and set out to find a friend who could possibly take her in.
She heard her father stomping outside and chatting with her mother for a moment, and for just a second she thought he sounded relieved at her departure. She let the tears fall that time.