erratic heartbeats

chapter 6: you gotta love them over-affectionate characters

"what are you saying, mother...?" Azumi's eyes glistened with the tears she's been suppressing. "you had other intentions...?"

Akina sighed exasperatingly, raising a hand to rub her temple, trying to ease the growing headache. "... This wasn't the right time to tell you."

"Well, when were you planning to tell me?! Years later after I've mastered my psychic abilities?!"

"Yes." Aiken answered bluntly, looking straight at his daughter's eyes as it darts from his to his wife's. The look of betrayal was prominent on Azumi's face; with eyes the widest they have ever been since she was a child, and eyebrows furrowed in denial. She refused to comment on her father's brutally honest reply. Not like she could anyway; a lump had already formed in her throat, preventing her from speaking clearly without her voice cracking midsentence. As if a rope of thorns are wrapped around her neck, occasional sharp pains pricked her throat.

"There was no other options to choose from so quickly. We feared your powers would be too much too soon, so we went with the best decision we thought." Aiken explained, maintaining eye contact as Azumi takes unconscious small steps back until her calves bumped the sofa. At the unexpected impact, she almost lost balance and, fortunately, didn't fall on her butt on the couch. It would have been embarrassing to argue after just falling.

"This issue involves me! Why didn't you consult to me first?!" She was now yelling, the dam in her tear ducts breaking and sending rivers down her cheeks. "If you thought lying to save you the trouble of talking to me would be best, you were wrong!"

"But I suppose you're too busy with other things to care about—" Azumi cut her sentence short went she silently choked on her saliva. Usually, she'd be embarrassed, but she was too deep in emotion to be feeling only a specific one for a moderate amount of time.

"What does that supposed to imply?!" Akina joined her daughter in standing, seemingly understanding her words despite it being abruptly cut. "We're doing this for you! For when you've given up all your powers you've had your whole life to your child! When you turn into an ordinary person, atleast you'll live in comfort. In luxury!" Azumi was irritated at her mother's assumption of procreating. How dare she, she doesn't get to decide on that. Whether she decides on an offspring is up to Azumi.

"I don't need luxury if it means I have to be neglected by my own parents! Parents who could always spare time for their lonely daughter, who spent all her life trying to achieve all her parents' expectations hoping to be rewarded with praise and attention." Azumi tried not to sniffle too loud, not bothering to wipe her tears. "and receiving nothing after all those years." Azumi walked away, the first time she's done that to her parents, and she felt a new sense of freedom by doing so.

"Azumi—!" Aiken was already by his wife's side, shutting her up.

"It's fine. Let her be alone for the remainder of the evening. We'll discuss about this again some other time..." He looked at his wife in the eyes as he held her in place, knowing she'll follow their daughter to her room demanding an explanation for her deplorable behavior. "We're also at fault here, Akina."

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The next day, Azumi woke up all puffy and blotchy after crying so hard last night. She intended to wake up just after Aiken and Akina left for work, so she could prevent running into them in breakfast and in departing. Not like they ever encounter everyday in the morning, anyway.

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Azumi arrived at school early, so she decided to take a detour from her usual walk straight to her classroom. She headed to the side of the school, where very few people would choose to walk through, and sat down on the concrete bench surrounding one of the trees. It was a windy morning, mild gusts of air blowing from the east, providing Azumi with the coolness she needs to feel as comfortable as possible. She was content on simply watching the leaves sway and fall from the wind until the morning bell chimes, but she was interrupted.