The Perfect Blend of Fear & Courage (boyxboy)

Epilogue

Disappointment was a feeling that Kutso Onomori had been battling his entire life. Not in himself. Well, yes. In himself too, but in others as well. 

Disappointment was drawn to him, like a magnet. It came from every direction, always directed at Kutso. There weren't many directions, but the directions it came from seemed to have an endless supply of disappointment. His mother, and father. They were a primal direction. Kutso was also a primal direction. 

Kutso was a lot of things. Ambitious, weak, fearful. He didn't think strong was one of them. He was the type of person to get swallowed whole by disappointment. There was never quite an adjective to describe him well enough. It didn't matter anyways. 

The disappointment always stung, it was like a stubborn ache in his chest that refused to go away. 

And it was worse this time. 

Even though it was still the same old disappointment that was making him feel this way, the ache was different. Closer to his heart, this time. And it wasn't just disappointment that was lingering in his chest either, but rather an alloy of emotions. 

Disappointment was the base, but a deep rooted bitterness could also be found, so could a sense of longing, loneliness and a strange emotion Kutso couldn't quite place.

Loss? 

The feeling of being lost? 

He couldn't tell. 

They were all a swirl inside his chest. It wasn't fair. 

It just wasn't. 

Two people shouldn't have the right to influence him this way. 

And yet they did. 

It wasn't all their fault either, it was his own fault that Kutso let his parents infect his mind the way that they did.

The strong part of him was telling him that he did everything right, that he was as perfect as he could be, that no matter what, he was, and still is, perfect. 

But on the other hand, Kutso knew that he never belonged there anyways. Not amongst their watchful, scrutinizing eyes that only had the time to judge, to point out the flaws. 

Never admire, never notice, or smile, or praise. 

But he wanted to. H

e wanted to belong so damn bad. He tried his very hardest and was instead left falling, stumbling through the sky, through the snow outside, through the choking smoke that was filling his mind. 

The strong part of him knew that it was all in vain, but the weaker, forceful side was still weeping quietly. Pounding on the train windows, crying and pleading to be let out, to be let back home.

 But with the falling snow outside and the rumbling of the train, he was muffled easily. Silenced through no fault of anyone, but himself. 

The silence was deafening. 

He found it winding itself over his waning confidence and tugging, hard. Kutso let out a choking sound. He wasn't, in fact, okay with being kicked out of the family he grew up in just like that, sent off to boarding school as a means of marrying him off, just like they did with his sister, getting him out of their stupid perfect hair. 

He clenched his book bag bitterly. 

And the forceful part of him was there to outshadow the strong part of Kutso as always.