An Unorthodox Parent/Teacher Conference
Honestly, she was just grateful that she was the one who had been called.
It was bad enough that the awful Shigure Souma was more or less the guardian of her own flesh and blood, but having him have his filthy hands in every aspect of Tooru’s life was really starting to grate on Kyouko’s nerves. He lived in the perfect house, he was able to give her the perfect things (her bed had nearly given Kyouko a heart attack; it was so beautiful) and he was able to provide her with the perfect support system. All of it made Kyouko’s blood boil. She was the one who was supposed to raise her daughter. She was the one who was supposed to be there for her when she needed her. She was the one who was supposed to be most active in her life.
But since her accident, she had been deemed unfit to be a parent at the moment. If she were to pause and think objectively about it - which she often did when she wasn’t consumed by her emotions - she could understand the verdict. After her accident, her mind had never quite worked the same. There were entire chunks of memory that were still missing, even after almost two years later. She would have moments of uncontrollable rage that she couldn’t understand the catalyst of. Even her day-to-day physical activity could be limited, depending on how well her brain was going to control her body that day.
However, it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been two years ago, and even just a year ago. Her speech issues had resolved and she was able to maintain a conversation easily now without stuttering or losing her train of thought. Her propensity towards distraction in general had greatly reduced and she could finally hold down a job. But maintaining just one job in Tokyo was not enough to afford a suitable life for one person, yet alone two.
It was all rather overwhelming. And in the dark of the night, all by herself in that tiny one-bedroom apartment she was struggling to pay rent for, Kyouko would admit to herself just how difficult life was at the moment, just how unfit she truly was to look after her daughter. It was in those times that she’d find herself utterly the complete, undeniable truth to the silence in the air.
But she’d never admit it out loud to anyone else, especially that awful, awful Shigure Souma.
Straightening her back and fixing her hair, Kyouko tried as hard as she could to look professional and motherly. She had actually deigned to put on make up that day, a feat that she hadn’t attempted in only God knows how long. And, to be quite honest, she didn’t feel that she looked half bad. To any passerby, maybe she looked like a normal woman...or maybe even a woman who had her life together, if she could let herself believe it.
Taking a deep breath, she turned the corner and looked for the sign titled “Mayuko Shiraki,” Tooru’s homeroom teacher. Her heels clicked against the floor, a sound very unfamiliar to Kyouko considering she nearly always wore sneakers. She was presenting a side of herself that wasn’t really her, she knew, but as long as she looked the part...well, that was all that mattered.
Once she reached the door, she paused, her hand in front of the piece of wood, curled into a fist and ready to knock. But she was scared. She was afraid that the moment this Mayuko Shiraki saw her, she’d see right through her and call her out for the fraud she was.
But you’re not a fraud...
It was a small voice in the back of her head, reminding her that she was a mother. The accident hadn’t changed that. All of these weird neurological issues she was having didn’t change that fact, either. In her heart, at her core, in her soul...she was still Tooru’s mom.
So, she let that fact sink in and straightened her back again, eyes wide and face forward. She knocked twice on the door, two confident thuds, and called out, “Shiraki-sensei? My name is Honda Kyouko. I’m here to speak about Honda Tooru.”
And she knew her voice sounded like a mother’s.
