chap19 - uncomfortable silence
“hello yn. mr and mrs akaashi. keiji.”
for the past 3 months, yn has been in therapy. 4 times a week, hasn’t missed a session. she was required to after someone reported her.
so now, she sits with a free “mental health counsellor” and complains about her life.
she’s cried 17 times in this same exact spot; the first time about her parents, the fifth time about school, the 7th time about her living situation, and then the 10th time about tsukishima.
she talks about tsukishima a lot.
about how his stupid hair is all over her house, in places she didn’t even know hair could go. how his t shirts are still in her drawer. how he has commitment issues and doesn’t care about anyone but himself.
yn knows her therapist doesn’t believe a word of it. she doesn’t believe that yn forgives keiji, or that the tension in her house has disappeared.
she’s better about the medication now. she knows it’s good for her, that she needs it. that she isn’t keiji, and he’s not her. expecting to get better with no help when her brain chemistry is different and she is traumatised beyond a shadow of a doubt.
he’s sitting next to her now, hand clammy around hers as their parents sit to the right of him, “hi,” he reaches his free hand forward, shaking the therapist’s hand, “i’m sorry, i don’t know your name?”
yn doesn’t remember her name, she didn’t bother to. in between playing peacekeeper, trying to catch up with schoolwork, crying over tsukishima, and going to the sessions, it felt pointless.
the therapist is looking at her now, waiting for her to reply. but her mother interjects, “she’s never been good with names. or anything really. i always say, ‘don’t expect much from yn!’” there’s a quick laugh before she settles back into her seat crossing her legs over each other.
“my name is aiko,” her eyes crinkle when she smiles and she looks truly kind, “yn is good at a lot of things actually. i hope that in this session, you’ll realise that.”
an uncomfortable silence settles, and she can feel keiji’s sliding away from her’s from the moisture. his ears are red and his jaw is tight, eyes barely blinking as he looks at aiko.
“i’ve asked you all here today to talk. in order for yn to get better and reach her true and full potential, i think a conversation is necessary.”
there’s a loud scoff from her mother and a cough from her father, “all she’s ever wanted to do is talk. talk, talk, talk! never listen. she wonders why her life is difficult but she can’t grasp that simple skill!” the pace she’s speaking at is quick and it’s hard to make out what she’s saying unless you’re familiar with her speech patterns, “even in middle school, all she wanted to do was talk. when they forced her into therapy in high school, ‘talk to her!’ well what if i don’t want to, aiko? what then?”
heavy breathing ensues and keiji sighs, heavy and long, gluing his eyelids together in an attempt to ignore what’s happening. ignore reality.
yn is sat, straight-faced, perfect posture, staring out of the window ahead of her.
she thinks about how keiji used to tell her about how one day, in the not-so-far-away future, things would be okay. they’d leave together and forget everything that had happened to them. to her. make new memories.
but when they got here, the first thing he did was call his mother and tell her he missed her. he cried in yn’s arms that night. she sat and comforted him, disgusted but sympathetic. envious of the love he felt for their mother and the love he received.
as the hour continues, so does the same cycle: her mother becoming infuriated with her existence, keiji trying to make small talk, and aiko correcting her mother’s words. making them kinder.
when yn finally looks at the clock again, there are 27 minutes until the end. she feels the gaze of aiko and keiji and her mother.
“yn, what do you have to say?”
“i’m sure she’ll complain about what a horrible mother i am. how we neglected her. caused her to be so crazy. but if she would spend time with us, like she refused to do on christmas-”
aiko cuts in, “you’ve said this already. i asked yn.”
they all watch as she turns back to the window, blinking slowly, breathing slower, “i think that you don’t like me because you would rather have a heart full of hatred than admit i am not as bad as you think.”
her words aren’t malicious, or hold a secret message, she’s just tired, “you can’t even pretend. i know you never hit me, or starved me, you might as well have, but… i think what you did do was worse,” yn pulls her hand away from keiji’s and pushes herself to stand, “you know i couldn’t have been as evil as you say from birth. so somewhere in these 18 years, you fucked me up.”
she’s wiping her hand on her joggers, watching her father stand up in sudden outrage, her mother’s face drop and keiji squeeze his eyes shut even tighter, “you fucked up keiji too. you’re fucked up. i don’t hate you anymore. i don’t care enough to hate you. i’ve never owed you anything, i will never owe you anything. i am nothing to you, and you are nothing to me.”
hot tears blaze down her face and she has no time to react before her mother is on pushing her onto the floor, forcing her onto her back and yelling. screaming. clawing at her face.
she lies there, listening to her shriek, “how’s this for ‘never hit you’?! i’ve hit you now, you ungrateful slut! you’re disgusting, you ruined me!”
something smells metallic and she’s sure it’s her nose or lip before her mother is yanked away by a man and aiko is scrambling to pull her up.
yn shakes her head and looks out the window. she only now realises that it’s open and there are a group of people stood outside, pausing their commute to lectures to watch the commotion.
she’s not embarrassed, or sad. she doesn’t feel anything.
not until she meets eyes with tsukishima and she feels angry. really angry.
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