Vampires Beneath the Moonlight || Shin Soukoku

The Kunikidas, and Katai

The screams keep going for a long time and I'm tempted to leave but Kunikida-san is looking for me here so I've gotta stay.

-

One hour later, according to my old watch, a tan car pulls up in the driveway. I can see Kunikida-san through the windscreen so I jump down. He gasps in surprise.

"Ah! Atsushi-kun! Are you alright?"

Seeing him makes me tear up again. "Yeah, I'm okay now."

"Where are your things?"

"I don't have any."

He winces, "Ah, right, we can fix that, come on."

I get into his car, it's warm and it smells nice.

-

I've never seen this much of Japan before but I'm happy when the drive is over and we pull into the driveway of green house. It's smaller than the orphanage, but looks more like a home than the orphanage ever did. The man from before, Kunikida-san's roommate, Katai-san stands on the porch, still wrapped in the red futon.

"Hey, Atsushi-kun!" he waves kindly, "I was expecting to have to help you with your stuff but I guess . . . anyway dinner is almost finished, and Aya just got back from karate practice so you can meet her."

I turn to Kunikida-san, "Who's Aya? Is she your daughter?"

"Yes, I adopted her after she was taken out of an abusive home when she was very young. She's ten now."

I smile.

He pats my head as if to say, "Hey, it's okay. I'm here now. If you need me." It feels good.

The inside of the house is exactly what I've always imagined a home to be. It's warm, there's furnishings and family pictures everywhere, and the smell of something good coming from the kitchen. I've never thought much about where Kunikida-san lived before but he looks like he belongs here.

Now that I'm actually standing next to him he's taller than I thought, maybe about 20 centimetres taller than me. And he has a ponytail that I didn't notice from just seeing the front of him on camera during lessons. It's cool.

"Can I help?" I ask, feeling useless just standing around. Truthfully, my feet hurt and I'm tired, but the director stands behind me, I can feel his cane poised to strike. "Help, you useless scum, help! What are you still doing standing around, if you can't pull your wait you're no better than a piece of garbage to be tossed on the curb!"

And another voice that sounds eerily like my own says "He's probably resenting you for not helping, but is too nice to say anything. You're not hurt, tiredness is no excuse to take advantage of someone. You're a horrible manipulative person, of course, your parents didn't want you. You don't deserve free meals. Help him!"

Both voices are so loud, that it hurts. My ears ring and my eyes sting. I can feel my shoulders shaking.

"Oh, don't cry! You may not cry! Only children with parents who love them can cry, but you, you are all alone! Wallowing in self-pity only makes you more of a burden! If you wish to cry do so in a gutter with the rest of the refuse!"

The director is right. I can't cry, not here, not in front of him. It would make me look ungrateful. I turn away, pretending to examine a piece of fruit in the bowl. I run my hand along its peel before remembering my hand is probably dirty. I jerk it back, feeling my elbow hit something.

There's a shattering noise. It hurts my ears. Too much, too much. I've done too much. I know they won't hurt me, but I can feel the anticipation mounting. The cane is descending. I can feel it.