closed starter for @kvllerkvng
Frankie had gone to bed, thank god for little miracles, she didn’t want her to see this. She could already tell her nine year old was panicking and in whatever strength she had as a mother she was able to tell her everything was going to be ok. To see it through a child’s eyes scared her. Of course she was scared for her own reasons too. She was born to a man who legally came to this country and married a citizen and had two children. However he raised his children as mus/lim and he himself was the same. Azin had since abandoned any sort of real religion and just focused on being a good person, but a list was a list and would she be on it? Would her brother and father be on it too? “Just go to sleep Frankie, it’ll be ok in the morning.” She cooed her daughter who held onto for dear life until she was finally able to let her mother go. In the back of her head she realized she was lying to her daughter, it wasn’t going to be ok.
Standing up to her full height now she would make sure her daughter was sleeping before exiting the room, her hand smoothing over the material of her shirt. The large bump was now making it so all her normal shirts road up. Well it was now clear that she was in fact pregnant no one could convince her to dress like she was. It was also the little life inside of her that forced her to remain calm, knowing that any stress could affect the baby. Head turning to stare at the TV screen again the votes for the other side kept going up and it kept looking darker and darker.
There was an honest fear of what was going to happen, her own seat was taking on the couch, she wanted to change the channel look at something else but she couldn’t, “I just lied to my daughter, I told her everything was going to be ok, but I don’t think it’s going to be.” There were so many unknowns and she had no answers, no plans, no escape routes.
This was cutting far too close, something that was once joke, was now becoming all too uncomfortable of a reality. This hadn’t been the life that he’d wanted to lead upon coming to this free nation, and this most certainly was not the existence that the wrestler wanted to have on American soil -- or any place on this planet for that matter. The country seemed to be becoming more and more divided with each passing day, and now, a culmination, of all that had once been forbidden was now front and center -- all that h a t e right before their very eyes. It was maddening but worst of all, it was downright horrifying. The man had never judged anyone a day in his life, and now he felt as if he himself was about to become personally judged day in and day out for being not only different in style, but of a different race that was certainly was not white.
On the television screen, numbers flitted up and down, the red and blue states lightening up as each one was claimed and coveted. This was some sick, twisted game, Shin.suke thought, for this was too cruel to be something taken seriously. Although he held a cultural and some what of a language barrier with the people of the US, he knew exactly what was going on, exactly what was at stake here. His almond eyes stayed focused on the screen, his hands washing over his face on more than one occasion as the Republi.can candidate seemed to be making it out ahead.
The only time the Japanese man’s eyes moved from the television, was when she entered the room. His light in all of this darkness, and even so, his light seemed to be dimming, her features shown with absolute fear and worry. “She too young for this,” the dark-haired man shook his head, “an’ I too old to be worry abou’ this man.” Gaze shifting back to the screen for a moment, just to usher a grimace to be displayed for the picture being shown. It was all too much to handle, and yet they were being made to endure.
Reaching out, Shin.suke took Azin’s hand in his, tugging her closer to his frame, needing her beside him. When she’d gotten comfortable, he’d laid one large palm down onto her ever growing, baby bump, a small smile finally sweeping over the older man’s lips. “I love you,” he breathed, “an’ I love Frankie, an’ we ‘ave to be strong fo’ this baby.”
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