My Demons

Chapter 32: My Demons

A/N: Wow guys, sorry about the wait! But, school comes first! Originally, I was going to put Akihiko’s past all into one chapter, but it turns out its pretty long! And since you all have been waiting so long for a chapter, I decided to break it up into two chapters so you guys can have one part now! The rest of his past will be revealed in the next chapter! I’m not sure when I’ll have that one uploaded, but some of it is already done!

WARNING: pedophilia mention

Chapter 32: My Demons

            I was born in Japan, but my family moved to England shortly afterwards, so I don’t have any memories of Japan before we moved back when I was 10. Some home attendants, and occasionally my mother and father, taught me and my older half-brother how to speak both Japanese and English, but put more emphasis on Japanese of course.

            Because we spoke so much more Japanese at home than English, I had a very hard time integrating into school. I also noticed that there were huge differences in culture between the English and the Japanese. Children and adults in England were all very affectionate. Mothers and fathers would hug and kiss their children goodbye every morning when they dropped them off at school. The other students in my class would hold hands and hug on the playground. They all spoke in a fairly informal manner to the teachers. Even though I didn’t have a taste of school life in Japan, I had been taught that being polite and formal with teachers was a must. First names were only to be used when you were good friends with a person (even then, it was still common to use surnames), but in England, everyone called each other by first names.

            It was kind of upsetting to see how loving everyone there was. My family was the exact opposite. We all ignored each other. Even the various maids, cooks, and drivers were formal between themselves and to us. They didn’t show any displays of affection either. I realized that it had to be a Japanese thing.

            I tried to show my parents and my brother how to show that they love each other by demonstrating how to hug. My mother tensed up and just patted me on my back lightly. My father hesitated, but quickly pushed me away, saying that Japanese men didn’t do such things. My brother was quick to shove me and slap me. I didn’t understand. How else was I to tell them that I loved them? Even though I hardly ever came into contact with my parents, I still deeply cared for them and respected them at the time.

            It was hard to only speak English in class. My mouth and tongue just automatically moved in order to form Japanese words. It was even tiring just following along in class when the others spoke. My grades were average, but they weren’t the best. I sucked it up and continued on.

            I didn’t make any friends at school, partly due to my lack of knowledge of the English language. The slang words that everyone else used were so foreign to me. Even the home attendants who taught me English didn’t know what some of the words meant. Some of the children and teachers wouldn’t pronounce the letter H. They also got very irritated when I slipped up and replaced the letter L with the letter R when I spoke. They didn’t understand that I couldn’t help it: there’s no L sound in Japanese.

            The other children also didn’t like me because I was constantly trying to cling onto them. Since all the others hugged and held hands, I thought that doing that to one of them would make them like me. However, it only made things worse for me. They all shoved me away and called me names, which I learned afterwards were derogatory slurs. Most of them ignored me and some made fun of me behind my back.

            The bullying, the lack of friends, and the isolation from my family were what really motivated me to start writing. I loved to read and get lost in the imaginary places. I quickly learned that writing could do the same thing and one day others could read my work and get lost in them as well. Every day after I finished with my studies, I would lock myself in an empty room upstairs and write.