stfu || m. bachira

6

A plate smeared with sauce and grains laid in front of you. Your parents lingered around the dinner table, despite finishing minutes ago. Your mother leaned against the walnut dining table, which housed plates emptied of their contents. Her hand was on her hip, mouth rambling on about the recent developments in her workplace. Sitting parallel to you, your father's eyes followed his wife's movements intently.

"I have a question," you said. Your parents' chatter halted, and they both focused their attention on you. "I want to pick up Aya on Wednesday, since we planned for me to sleep over and go to Blue Lock together..." You trailed off, eyes darting between your parents.

The two exchanged glances. The concern in the split-second look was palpable. Already, your heart began its gradual sink. Judging scarcely off of this interaction, they were either going to gently let you down, or offer some help.

"Listen, Y/N...we know the whole...situation publicly died down a while ago, but we all know there's still the possibility of someone else harming you," your mother said. "I don't want something else inflicting any harm on you. If...if something like that happens again—" Her voice cracked, eyes misting up.

Your father bolted up, rushing to her side. He wrapped his arm around her body, rubbing his hand on her shoulder supportively.

Meanwhile, you dumbly stared. The topic of your privacy safety were somewhat of unspoken whispers that hazed around in the back of your family's mind. It was rarely spoken of after the incident, so you were puzzled on why they bought it up now. Normally, they'd leave it at "We don't think it's safe. Maybe we could drive you and Aya instead?" 

Your father pulled your mother closer, gently landing a kiss on her head. His eyes were dim when he met yours. "Y/N, we don't talk about it much anymore, but recently, accounts and groups linked to the source of the leak was found to be active. We don't know what's the root, but rumours have been stirring again."

"What?" You leaned closer to the table. "How long has it been since that?"

Shaking his head, your father replied, "The most recent one was two days ago. But the first sign of activity was over a week ago."

Your hands went limp, dropping by the sides of your body. The warm air emitted by the recently-used kitchen wasn't registered by you; everything felt cold. Mouth hung agape, your eyes rapidly blinked like a flashlight draining away the last bit of electricity. Your mental floodgates fulminated. Fears leeched away your hope, the Kryptonite box you tasked with locking certain memories cracking. You could feel it all rush in. Rush in like a tsunami, like the dampness of rainforest air smothering your breath. 

"The accounts haven't been posting or doing anything as far as anyone can tell, but there's always a chance. We don't feel secure having you roam around anywhere public."

"Why?" was all you whispered in response.

Between sniffles, your mother said, "Humans can be wretches. They're so, so unbearably harmful. Especially to innocents like you."

"In other words, they're bitches."

"They're bitches," your mother agreed. Her head hung low. "I'm sorry. We can hire someone to drive you and Aya from and to school."

In all honestly, you had hoped to visit the convenience store located blocks away from Aya's school. You had the goal of hanging out with her outside closed borders, freely, like other teenagers do. That was out of the question.

"Yeah, let's just hire a driver." You would've preferred either yours or Aya's parents to drive you, but they were busy people. "Thank you for letting me sleep over at her house, though."