Second Chances

Part 15

It took Hira a whole week before he felt like going back to University. He knew it wouldn't affect his GPA at all and he could care less about the Photography Club, despite the fact that they were spamming his phone. It was so bad he was tempted to change his sim card once more.

He would have done it but for one thing: his parents. They rarely contacted him and he detested calling anyone first. He never knew what to say, and speaking when he couldn't see a person made his stutter worse. They had been so angry after Kiyoi had broken his phone.

The psychologist had told his parents to stop placing expectations on him and the stutter would improve. It didn't. The same psychologist then said HE already placed their expectations on himself, and it was too late to correct the problem.

By then, he was seventeen. He fully understood how to eavesdrop on all the private sessions the doctors had with his parents. Privately, he agreed with his father, when they drove home from these sessions and he'd say, "They're full of bullshit." and his mother would go, "Shhh." glancing over her shoulder, staring at him.

For some reason, despite having almost a perfect GPA his whole schooling, his parents always thought he was slow, unable to think for himself. Right up until the day they left, his mother had purchased all his clothes, done his laundry etc. The only thing she had let him do was learn to cook. Hira was very grateful for that. It had been a lifesaver, and allowed him freedom for the first time ever. 

Kiyoi had been right. He did live in a bubble. He liked seeing the world through it. It was safe, insular. What was so wrong with being safe? Just like looking through the viewfinder of his camera, if no one saw how you felt... well, he had been judged his whole life.

You miss him. Call him, apologize and beg him to come back! Hira shook his head. I can't! I don't know what I did wrong! Until I understand, there is no point in it. 

He withdrew. Socially awkward before, Hira was now socially distant as well. He didn't care that the club seniors worried, and blamed Kayama. If it hadn't been for the fact that Kayama needed the credit, the paperwork for dropping out of the photography club would have been filed with the administration office. 

Hira didn't understand that he had empathy. That this WAS feelings, associating with people, only in his own way. He had developed relationships, important ones.

Hira knew that the Senior did not have the authority to prevent him. He even understood, at some level, that the Senior believed in his talent, otherwise, he wouldn't be going to these lengths. It no longer mattered to him. 

All of his previous joy in taking photos was gone. After looking at those old photographs, and being with Kiyoi, he now knew was the light, the joy in his pictures. 

Yesterday had been the day to do the bills. It was usually Hira's favorite day, figuring out the budget. Last month he had spent too much, and had wastage because of taking care of Kiyoi but he had no regrets. If he could, Hira knew he would do it all over again.

He looked at the amount of money left over and sighed. Taking care of Kiyoi had made one thing clear: As an adult, his small single bed was inadequate. He needed a larger bed. Was that enough money left over or would he need his savings? He walked back into his childhood room and looked around. Was there even enough room in here for a larger bed???

Hira studied the space carefully. He didn't need his desk anymore. He rarely studied at home, preferring to use the university's facilities. How much of his stuff did he need? One wall was storage... small bins, large bins, all neatly stacked next to the wardrobe that held his clothes. Hira was a packrat - a hoarder. Of course, he wasn't as bad as a hikikomori.