Ayanokoji learning to be human

The pain of losing family

On some days he thinks of his reasoning for being at this school in the first place. The reason for being so far away from a colorless world.

He was on the park bench he frequently visited, watching as the sun rose for the day. The days he's been dreading since he learned of it with his father's visit. He used to feel that the way the sun comes and goes on this campus was beautiful, but today he couldn't help but feel the beauty was just his imagination.

he couldn't help but place it into the feeling of a video game. Like he was watching it from behind a screen. The way the wind made the trees sway with such fluid motions that it seemed like It was coded in. The way the sun casts a soft warm blanket of heat across his body. The way the bright sun makes everything look so alive and mythical almost.

It felt unreal.

It felt fake.

~-~-

He doesn't miss the florist's sympathetic gaze when she sets up his purchase later that day or the way she so carefully sets the purple tulips and white lilies inside the bouquet. He doesn't miss the way her eyes glass over when she catches sight of who it's for when she attaches the card to the flowers with a grace of a bomb squad disarming a threat.

He couldn't help but feel the weight in his arms almost grow when he takes it from her. the way he feels as if he's holding something made of glass instead of steam and petals, like one wrong move will leave it crashing and never to be put back together again.

~-~-

He remembers sitting next to his butler in the library of his "house".

He remembers the book he was reading to him in the library, something far below his reading level, but he had been curious when he asked if he wanted to hear it. It had been something his son had enjoyed. He rememberers the older man's wrinkled hands and quiet voice as he read aloud to him when he was younger.

The way the man rose his voice into a high pitch when the big-headed queen spoke, or the way his voice turned joyful and exaggerated when the mad hatter came.

He wouldn't admit it back then but he truly cherished those moments when they came. Each new book the old man would read aloud to him, each book one his own son had liked. his son liked fancy books and action on some occasions.

He quite liked the book he brought.

~-~-

He doesn't acknowledge the looks he gets as he strolls toward the chairman's office with his sendings when he makes it to the faculty office. Doesn't miss the familiar strawberry blond hair's gaze as he walks past her.

He doesn't miss the looks they all gave him as he passes. The way the blond's eyes puzzle together when he catches how loses his grip on the bouquet doesn't go unnoticed, or how slumped his shoulders are. How difficult it feels to lift his hand to know on the chairmen's door.

He doesn't acknowledge the looks they give when the chairman opens the door and looks at his contents. He doesn't miss how they all tense and seem ready to take it from his lacked grasp.

he doesn't understand why they seem to think there was a chance the man in front of him would turn him away. He knows the man in front of him wouldn't dare even let the thought cross his mind. The way the chairmen's eyes had softened when he had caught sight of his flowers was telling enough of what he planned on doing.

The way his breath had caught when he read through the carefully crafted note attached to the bouquet had only solidified it. How his eyes had lingered on who it was for. how the smile the man gave him when he took it from his weak grasp was nothing more than pure pain and joy.

"He'd love them." the chairmen spoke, voice nothing more than a whisper only he could hear. He doesn't miss how the pain he felt had only grown with the chairman's shaken voice. His heart and lungs only seem to grow with lead at the confession. The burn his eyes gave when he closed the door behind him only burned hotter as he steps into the chairmen's office.

~-~-

He found himself on the park bench he had watched the sunrise before his purchases. Hoping for the warm comfort it had brought. But the warmth he had felt that morning had long since disappeared as time went by for today.

He had ignored the blond when she first sat beside him. Even if her presence resembled the comfort the man who was gone had given him, and with that comfort, he couldn't help the words bubbling out of him.

"You remind me of him."

He watched her shoulder rise with tension at his confession. The way her knuckles whitened at her grip on her skirt. She looked ready to leave but he could still feel the words clawing up his throat.

"You feel...like him. I can't help but see him instead of you sometimes."

The words kept coming no matter how hard he tried to get them under control.

It was like a dam had broken.

He watched her shoulders shake. The way her hair draped over her face, hiding it from his view, but it didn't stop the knowledge that she crying. That she was grieving for a man she never knew. He knew it was selfish to keep going. To keep digging into her empathy, but he couldn't stop.

"I thought about dropping out today."

He had planned on doing so the moment he learned of his death. But he could never bring himself into doing so.

"I had to just pretend everything was fine when I went back to class after my talk in the faculty office today. I had to pretend nothing had changed in the world, that everything was okay. I had to ignore all my classmate's questions when I came back from it after the bell."

He wished the words would stop forcing their way out his throat.

"My family is strained Ichinose-san. The only thing that truly connects us is our DNA, as my father said."

His heart twisted and his ears seemed to ring.

"The man I sent those flowers to...I always wanted to meet his son, Eiichirō."

He couldn't help the way his eyes burned even brighter from his confession or the way his throat finally closed with his confession.

"I wished every day that I was his son instead. That I was Eiichirō."

He meet her gaze as she whipped her head towards him at his confession. He took in her red-rimmed eyes and hiccuped breaths, and he could only feel relief from it. Relief that someone was properly morning Matsuo's death.

"He was the closest thing I could ever hope to get as a father."

And finally, his eyes filled with tears as he buried his head in his hands. His heart and lungs finally loosened the lead in them that weighed him down all day.

As the lead leaves him as he mores for the loss of a family he never had.

one he always wished for.

He felt hopeless.

He felt fake.

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