As For Myself
Ai wanted a drink of water, that’s what brought him down into the kitchen that early-early morning. It’s 2:18 a.m. The sky is still a deep dark; the air in the home is very still with silence and lack of movement. But that wasn’t completely true, because as he made his way downstairs his ears picked up on a voice. It sounds like his brother.
Maybe he wanted a drink too? Maybe he was just hanging out in the kitchen berating himself for something? Whatever it was he was saying in such a low tone, Ai wasn’t prepared for what he saw his brother doing when he’d turned on the kitchen light.
“Yaku’...” His brother’s name came out in a breath.
Yakusoku didn’t outright look at Ai. He kept the knife in his hand, his gaze shifted to a slant at the wooden floor. “I told you not yet.” Yakusoku said either to Ai or to himself.
“Brother... put the knife down.” He said in a serious tone, approaching slowly but steadily. “You... you don’t wanna do this.”
Yakusoku shook his head. “I have to do this... why does everyone keep stopping me?” He made his way around the table, then back over the counter rather slowly in step.
“Yakusoku, you don’t know what you’re saying.” He’s closer now, one hand up in defense to protect himself should his brother lash out, the other hand is reaching out for the knife. “Please, give it to me.”
Yakusoku smiled then, his hand came out slowly and set the knife down on the counter. “Okay. We’ll do it tomorrow.”
Blinking, Ai looked around the room. Was his brother talking to someone or not? “Yaku’... do you hear yourself?”
Alright, stupid question, but he had to say something. He had to get his brother to focus his thoughts because right now he was just plain out of his mind! Wasn’t he? Teens commit suicide more often than he’d like to acknowledge, but not Yakusoku. Not his brother.
The older male seemed to shut off then, just standing and swaying, eyes closed. Eyes closed! He’s asleep!? Ai couldn’t help but feel somewhat relieved knowing this. It didn’t calm his fears that are now prickling over the fact that his brother almost killed himself in his sleep. It would seem, as well as his migrains, Yakusoku’s sleep walking has started again.
His parents told him about it, he was too young to know it himself since Yakusoku stopped by the time Ai was old enough and could hold onto memories. This was simply unreal. To think that if he hadn’t come downstairs for a drink his brother would be lying in a pool of his own blood, and no one would know why. With Yakusoku’s new persona they’d all believe it was suicide when in fact, technically, it was not.
Shaking: body, breaths, nerves, Ai moves over to his brother and wraps his arms around him. “Come on, I’ll take you back upstairs. You can sleep.”
“Sleep?” His brother replied in a dry and broken tired tone.
“Yeah. You’ll stay there, and sleep.”
“I’m not tired.. I’m.. too afraid.”
“Don’t be. Nothing can get you when you’re in your home and in your room.” He soothed, and rubs his older brother’s back on their way upstairs.
Drink abandoned, though never really gotten, Ai climbed into bed with his brother after tucking the male in. Wrapping his arms around his brother from behind, he rest his forehead between the male’s shoulder blades. Yakusoku can question him all he wanted in the morning, but he isn’t going to leave him alone right now.
He had to wonder again, just what happened to Yakusoku 2 years ago? He would never behave this way. Never. Reeve and Quinn told him that Yakusoku, when he walked in his sleep, seemed only to be interested in walking around like he were awake. Taking walks outside, having a backpack on like he were headed for school. Never once had they mentioned suicide attempts. Although, he didn’t suppose they would tell a child about something like that. He wouldn’t believe them anyway, but now... he’d be the one unbelieved.
There’s the problem of thoughts to mull over. Telling their parents. He really didn’t want to, but then if this kept up he wasn’t sure if he should keep it a secret. He can’t be on high alert every night. He’s actually a very heavy sleeper. He doesn’t weigh much either so if Yakusoku really went off, what would he do? What could he do? Squeezing his brother a bit tighter, he let out a steady sigh. He’ll worry about it if it happens again tomorrow. But for right now, he just felt tired from the wave of emotions he’s coming down from.
Morning went as usual. They had breakfast and went off to school. As far as what happened last night, Yakusoku had other issues to worry about as he seemed to be nursing a hang over. Ai looked at his brother carefully from a sidelong glance, but it seemed that whatever was wrong with him last night certainly didn’t exist in his alert state of mind.
Reeve only glared at his oldest son with sadness and distaste.
Ai knew that he was only angry because he cared. He wouldn’t seriously be upset with Yakusoku.
Quinn on the other hand seemed to just flat out ignore him. Her son was different, and she was trying but this morning she just couldn’t make the effort. She and Reeve had to call the school anyway, and she was busy thinking of the right things to alert to the guidance counselor of.
“Son? Do you want me to drive you to school this morning?” Reeve asked the hung over teen.
Yakusoku shook his pounding head. One eye winked open he looked at his father to reply. “No. Gev’s coming over.”
As if on cue the door bell rang.
“Yeah, Gev.” Reeve huffed. He completely hated Yakusoku’s choice of friends. They’re idiots.
Clambering to the door, bookbag grabbed up after two missed attempts, Yakusoku walked out of the house slamming the door, unintentionally, as he went.
Ai hated this part.
Reeve would roll his eyes and expel and angered sigh. Quinn would completely deflate into herself. And he would be left to pick up the pieces. This is too much for a twelve year old, but he can’t complain. Complaining is for people who refuse to do anything, and he refused to let his family fall apart. He had to get through to Yakusoku, and he may know how.
If Ai only knew what his parents had been planning by the time he’d walked out the door.
Yakusoku moved his hand expertly across the paper of his small sketch pad. He’d continued with his art, it was becoming sort of an outlet from his troubles. He couldn’t behave like he’s got shit for brains all the time. A smirk appeared on the male’s lips after shooting one last glance at Adamari Hijikata in math class. She’s been seated sideways since the teacher got through with the lecture; doing her work while chatting with her friend.
The teacher never snapped her back to attention because she’s a straight A student, which meant talking wasn’t hindering her as it does to most kids. Himself excluded. He doesn’t talk to anyone but his friends and since none of them are in his math class he sits silently at his desk either working or casting sidelong glances at Adamari so that he can continue his sketch of the girl.
It would be flattering, really! ...Granted she weren’t nude in it. So yeah, this little sideways show she’s offering has returned his pencil to the old sketch that he had yet to finish. He’s looked over her proportions in breast size, and now he’s working on the lower half. He can image what it looks like, he seen enough of them in his life from porn, to the girl’s he’s fucked around with, and- oh yeah- being molested in the woods!
He sort of likes Adamari, truly and honestly, and so he’s amused himself with thoughts of her late at night, or when he’s plowing into someone else. But he could never ask her out... what if she liked him back? What if she liked him back a little too much? Like she had... He swallowed that thought and it went down hard so he shook it away. He began to put his drawing away to do his work when the loud speaker crackled to life.
The moment he heard the hesitation he knew that it was for him.
“Yakaski Land report to the guidance office. Yakaski Land to guidance, thank you.”
Yakaski? What the hell? Suddenly trying has become obsolete to them? Bastards.
The teacher spied the clock. “Just take your things with you, Yakusoku.” The man smiled almost apologetically to him for the mistake made by front office. “Class may be over by the time you get back.”
Nodding, he returned the smile to the man. This show of respect is the reason he doesn’t treat Mr. Harold like shit. The man, first day, looked at him and asked him point blank how to pronounce his name so that he got it right and kept it right. And oddly enough, it meant something to him. The other teachers either screw it up, or simply call him Promise- which is fine- but he can’t help but wince whenever he hears it. Thanks a lot Maria.
As he shuffled through the class and out the door, he wondered if he’d ever stop thinking about her. Taking vengeance on poor look-alikes, and acting like an ass hasn’t lessened the pain. Maybe he should give it all up and just let himself be commited- wait, guidance? Why the hell does guidance wanna see him?
The frustrated teen had planned on walking as slowly as possible but now he had to say that he’s damned intruiged. Picking up his pace he walks to the guidance hall, which took a moment because he had no idea where it was located- having never been summoned there- or so much as gone past it while changing classes. Upon his arrival he knew which of the head shrinkers was planning on seeing him as she stood up from a seat in the office before he walked through the glass door.
“Helloooo, Yakusoku?” She said it with a question mark to be sure that it was said correctly.
“Yeah.” He nods as if his words would mean nothing.
“I’m Diana Price, please come into my office.” She gestured to the small room behind the large desk where 3 receptionist are busy taking phone calls or typing things. One woman had a donut in her hand watching a small television.
Yakusoku wondered who the women were talking to because this wasn’t a real therapist’s office. Probably the main desk. Before he could eavesdrop a word or two the solid wood door closed behind him. Looking around the tiny room that with desk, and chairs, and shelf, couldn’t give you more than four steps of walking space.
“Have a seat.” She points to a chair just behind him.
Looking over his shoulder he takes a seat on a rather comfortable single chair tucked away between the wall and the desk. It must have been all the chair could do to keep from being squeezed from the room. Looking about, openly interested, he notes a few pictures on the wall of students he does and does not know and had to wonder what they needed to see the counselor for. Beside the desk is a large window that from the look of it can’t be opened as its just sort of fixed into the brick wall. Claustrophobia was setting in hard.
“Let’s talk about this year, shall we.”
“It just started.”
“I know, but it seems that you’ve been having some difficulties?”
“What difficulties? I’m not failing anything.” At least he doesn’t think so. He made a run down of all his classes and the test and papers and things he’s turned in. C average at best.
“Yakusoku, you’ve changed quite a lot over the past two years... Are you saying that you haven’t noticed the changes within yourself?”
“I’m not some damned kid, so stop using that tone with me.” After a thought he added. “Please.”
That seemed to confirm something as she nodded to herself over it. “That’s what I mean; I checked up on you from middle school and every one over there had such nice things to say about you. You got good grades...”
“Mrs. Price, why am I really here?” He asked wanting to get right to the point. “There are a lot of emo-goths running around in this school and you decide to pick on me. Why is that?”
“I just want to know what’s changed?” She said simply. “Yakusoku, are you having trouble at home?”
He shakes his head.
“Are you sure?” She’s a persistant one. “You’re not arguing with your parents? Or picking on your little brother?”
“Whaaaat? Where did you hear this from?”
“Please stop avoiding my questions, I’m only trying to help.”
“Yeah, ‘help’. More like looking for problems that aren’t there.” He felt his voice raising, unsure as to why. Cornered. He felt cornered in this tiny little office, cramped away with this plump woman who’s trying to suck away his soul or something.
“Your parents called me,” Mrs. Price finally admitted when she saw that he wasn’t going to calm himself until he knows the reason why he’s there. “They’re concerned about you.” Her eyes look at him, kind and full of understanding. It made him sick. “They believe that you’re lashing out at them because you’re... wondering about where you came from.”
“I know where I came from.”
“No. What I mean is, children- when they are in your situation- at a certain point they tend to wonder who their real parents and family members are.”
“You’re asking me if I’m lashing out because of my being adopted?” Mrs. Price did not respond, simply lowered her gaze to her lap which was a clear yes. “No. I love my family, and who gives a fuck about my real parents. They clearly didn’t want me otherwise I wouldn’t be where I am today. Is that a good enough answer for you?”
Mrs. Price nodded, that nod that says: I just got my answer from your little outburst. “Do you feel neglected because you were in an agency?”
Rolling his eyes he let out a loud groan. “Lady, get the wax out of your ears- you’re not listening to me! I don’t care about being adopted. Maybe I just like this look, maybe I like my new friends. Why can’t a guy just express himself without setting off red flags because ‘damnit, that isn’t like how you used to be’. Grow up.” Standing, he hoist his backpack over his shoulder and heads out the door.
“Yakusoku, please come back. Our session isn’t over.”
“It is. Go find someone else to talk to. Someone who really needs it.” He called over his shoulder as he made for the hall.