“Yuki! Dinner’s ready!” I heard Onee-san’s voice call me.
“Hai. I’m coming down,” I answered, just so she knows I heard her.
I went down the stairs and was immediately met by Youichi, my little brother. “Ne Yu-chan, Yu-chan!”
“Hai.”
“Look at my new toy airplane!” He said, proudly presenting the toy in his tiny hands. “You know, Onee-san bought this for me at the toy store today.”
I looked at his beaming smile then at the shiny new toy he was so proud of. Yeah, it looks good. I presume it’s one of the new models out in the market today. I noticed the brand sticker at the side of it and immediately knew that it was expensive—the type of expensive toys that rich kids get. Sometimes I wonder how Onee-san gets the money for things like this. But most of the time, I’m much too lazy to care or think about it.
“Ahh…” I said, acknowledging both Youichi and his new treasure. “Yeah. That’s nice.”
“You think so too, Yu-chan?” The gleam in his eyes brighter than ever.
“Mm-hmm,” I nodded, trying to appear friendly in front of my little brother.
“Yuki! Youichi! Come here or would you like to eat cold dinner?” Onee-san called out from the dining room.
“Hai!” We both said, mine significantly less enthusiastic.
Out of habit, I noticed the number of chairs surrounding the dining table the minute I enter the dining room. It was still five—one for each of us originally. One for me, one for Youichi, one for Onee-san, one for our mother, and one for our father. There was supposed to be five pairs of chopsticks, five bowls of rice and five plates present every dinner. Yeah, that was how it was supposed to be. We were supposed to be just like your typical everyday family. But you just can’t control events, can you? Now, all that’s left every dinner are the three of us.
I sighed and took my usual place beside Youichi.
“Itadakimasu!” Youichi and Onee-san said at the same time, their excitement for the food obvious in their voices.
“Itadakimasu,” I also said, though with less energy.
I contented myself with the usual—the two of them both happily chatting and talking about things while I silently eat my share of the meal. As always, the two of them will be so engrossed in their own chat that they won’t mind me at all. Just how I like it.
I looked at Onee-san and noticed that there are dark circles under her eyes. ‘She’s been overworking herself again,’ I thought. ‘What could it be this time around?’
Onee-san is a student at the local university. Being an above average student, she originally planned to enter Tokyo University. After graduating there, she wants to get a good job at some big company, marry and have a happy life. But of course, the divorce affected too many things… and one of them is Onee-san’s plans. Instead of entering Tokyo U., she insisted on just studying at the local university so that she could help our mother with stuff around the house. Moreover, she also took several part-time jobs because she believes that this will be of great help to our mother. Not to mention that she also takes care of all the housework. Poor Onee-san. This is all our parents’ fault.
I sighed. Just thinking about these are enough to give me a headache. ‘Ugh,’ I grunted. ‘I’m thinking of things way too much again.’
“Hey!” I was brought out of my stupor by Onee-san’s voice. I noticed the hand waving in front of me. “Hey Yuki! Yuki, you there?”
“Earth to Yu-chan! Earth to Yu-chan!” chimed Youichi.
“Hai. Yeah I’m here,” I answered both of them. Damn. I’ve been spacing out a lot this day.
As if reading my mind, my sister said, “It seems that you’ve been spacing out a lot today Yuki.”
“Nn… no. I was just… thinking of things.”
“Oh… is that so?”
“Hai, Onee-san.”
“Ne Yuki,” My sister began, switching from Youichi to me. This was one of those rare occasions when Onee-san also asks me about my day. I better get ready. “Did something happen at school today? How’re you?”
“I’m fine. Just like always,” I answered flawlessly.
I played a mini-flashback on my head. Behind the class, beside the window, away from everyone. Usual. Ezumi, usual talk, grumpy homeroom teacher. Still the usual. Lunch, usual place, weird question. Oh wait, this is not usual. Maybe I could tell this to Onee-san.
“Well yeah,” I began my sentence.
“Hmm?” Onee-san obviously has her full attention. This is also one of those rare times that I have actually something to say.
“Ezumi asked a weird question today at lunch.”
“And that is?”
“If I have someone I like or not.”
“Oh. Really?” Her voice sounds amused.
“Yeah.”
“So, what did you say?”
“I have none…”
My mini-flashback, which was supposed to be paused at that time, played suddenly. End of class, cleaning duty, oh shit, Hamada, touch… touch… touch. Like a broken player, my mini-flashback was stuck at that time when Hamada touched my forehead. I know I should have forgotten about this already… I should have.
“Fuck,” I said without thinking.
“Nani?!” Onee-san blurted out, shocked that I just cursed in the middle of dinner.
“Nah… uh,” I stammered while trying to get up from my seat. “Nothing. I just remembered that… uh… homework. Yeah homework.”
I left them at the dinner table and practically ran upstairs to my room. I became aware of the sensation growing in my fingers and I can’t help but flush at its recognition. There was no mistaking it. It is exactly the same feeling… the same thing… it was his skin… Hamada’s skin. Dammit.
I reached my room and panted out of breath. Whether it was because I ran up the stairs or because something was thumping crazily inside me, I don’t know. I badly needed to be inside my sanctuary… to get away from people… to think straight.
I went inside my bathroom and splashed some cold water on my face. I could still feel some of the heat in my face but at least it’s significantly lesser now.
“Fuck it,” I said to the other me in the mirror. “Why are you that bothered, huh?! Why does Hamada have such an effect on you? Urgh. Darn it.”
I went out of the bathroom and sat on my bed, feeling frustrated more than ever. It sucks to have something bothering you, and much more so if you don’t know why it’s bothering you. I slammed my fists on the bed, venting out all of the frustrations of not completely understanding what’s going on.
“Damn you Hamada, damn you,” I spat out. “Damn you, damn you, damn you!”
I continued slamming my fists until my own arms gave out from lack of energy. I don’t want to move anymore. I don’t want to think about anything. I lied down on my back and stared at the ceiling. It was blank just like a canvass. Nothing. Zero. Nada. Zilch. How I wish I could be like that—content with having nothing at all.
“Fuck,” I cursed again. I wonder how many I’ve said this day.
I raised my right hand to my face—the one which touched Hamada on his cheek earlier… the one which has the lingering feeling of his skin. ‘It’s a pretty normal hand. A palm… five fingers… lines that cross each other…’ I thought to myself. ‘But why does it still feel Hamada’s skin? What’s going on with this hand?’
I sighed and touched my forehead. Fuck. Fuck it all. I hate feeling confused to the point of utter frustration. And I’m nearly beyond that level. I sighed for the nth time and closed my eyes.
“I hate you Hamada. I hate you.”
“I like you the best in the whole wide world!” A boy, about seven years old, made a big round figure with his tiny arms as he said those words to his playmate.
His playmate is of the same age, though unbelievably more mature in both looks and manners. “Really?” he said while chuckling.
The boy, thinking that he was being laughed at, frowned. “No fair! You don’t like me, do you? Hmmmph.”
“When did I ever say that?”
“But you didn’t say you like me the best too!”
“That doesn’t mean that I don’t like you.”
“But still…” The boy, out of words, simply pouted.
“Alright, alright,” His playmate started coaxing him. “I’m gonna say it so you better listen carefully, ok?”
“Hmmmph.”
“I like you the best too in the whole wide world.”
“Really?” The boy asked, affirming what he has just heard.
“Really.”
“As in really, really, really?”
The more mature one chuckled once again at the childish behavior of his playmate. He never ceases to amuse him. “Really now, are we gonna talk about this all day?”
“Answer it.”
The boy sighed. He knew he had to give in. There’s just nothing that will compare to the stubbornness of his childish playmate. So he smiled and said,
“Yes. I really, really, really like you the best in this whole world, Yuki.”
2 comments:
This just keeps getting more powerful. Part of its power likes in its realism. Stark realism. You're rather good at writing about feelings: the pain of divorce, the awkwardness at the dinner table, the insecurity and uncertainty of young love. This is a fascinating read, to say the least. Your characterizations are good too: the hyper little brother, the maternal older sister...and the long-suffering, lonesome, emotionally isolated middle kid.
Wow. Thanks for those things. I don't know what to say, honestly speaking. Seems I'm caught speechless by those big words you say. Thank you... and well, thank you. I didn't think it'd be good enough (I'm thinking that my writing is always a case of me being wordy and all that) but I'm really glad it had an effect on you.
Hmmm.. Thing is, I've been caught up again in some kind of limbo--my Muse has yet again left me. And so I can't figure out how to continue this. I'm afraid it will take a while before I get something out of my head. *sigh* I hate having this kind of blocks. Oh well...
Thank you for reading things in my blog. I'm sorry this is a rather late reply but anyway, you ought to know that you make my day with each comment you leave. Thank you again. :)
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