Everyday Life with a Murderer

Chapter 48: Kyoto Part 2

After leaving his family's home in Kyoto, Hideaki's emotions churned like a tempest within him. He and Seiji walked in silence for a while, the cool winter air doing little to quell the heat of Hideaki's turmoil. Seiji glanced sideways at his friend, concern etched in his features.

"Hideaki, are you alright?" Seiji finally asked, breaking the uneasy silence.

Hideaki clenched his fists, struggling to contain the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. Unable to hold back any longer, Hideaki stopped in his tracks, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

Seiji, sensing Hideaki's distress, turned to him with a concerned expression. Without a word, Hideaki buried his face in Seiji's shoulder, tears streaming down his cheeks. Seiji gently wrapped his arms around his friend, offering silent support as Hideaki let out the pain and anguish he had been carrying for so long.

"It's okay, Hideaki," Seiji murmured softly, his voice filled with empathy. "Let it out. I'm here."

Hideaki clung to Seiji, his body trembling with each heaving breath. In that moment, Seiji's presence was a lifeline, a beacon of comfort amidst the storm of emotions.

His throat tightening as tears welled up in his eyes despite his efforts to hold them back. He stand there, only crying. Crying loudly from all pain he felt. "No matter what I do, it's never enough for them! They're always comparing me to Suzuki, always reminding me of everything I've messed up... They will always see a failure in me!" he cried.

Seiji squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. "Hey, your parent's expectations don't define your worth, okay? You're trying your best, and that's what matters," he reassured him.

Hideaki took a shaky breath, the weight of years of parental expectations and disappointment bearing down on him. "I just... I just wanted them to be proud of me, you know?" he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. "But it feels like no matter what I do, I'll never measure up. I always will be the stupid kid of them, who's always childish, irresponsible and immature in everything I do," he felt as tears streamed down his cheeks again, but he didn't wipe them away this time.

"Shhh... I know... I know how it feels. But listen... for me, you're not like this. You improved. I see that. The only thing that I would agree with your parents is that you really need to get together your life. You see... In other words... Parents will always see you as a kid, because you're their child. No matter what you do. But know, that truly you're way more than that, Hideaki. You're an adult man who finally learns from his mistakes. And that's all good. That's what makes you a better person that you were before. I promise you, that a little bit more, and you'll soon show them how wrong they were about you." He said, wipeing away teras from his friend's face.

"Tch!" The killer hissed, feeling a small spark of hope...

"Now, there there... Calm down please. Or you'll catch a cold hehe.." The programmer said with care.

Hideaki leaned away from him slightly, and looking down with gritted teeth added, "I... I'm... s-sorry y-you i-idiot... for all t-this you had to see..." he whispered hoarsely, still struggling to regain his composure.

"There's no need to apologize," Seiji said gently, his voice warm and reassuring. "You needed to let it out. I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to share this with me."

Hideaki nodded weakly, a mix of gratitude and embarrassment washing over him. He hadn't intended to break down like this another time, especially not in front of Seiji, but somehow, it felt right. For the first time in a long while, he didn't feel alone in his pain.

As they walked, the tension began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of peace. They were getting unintentionally to the bamboo forest.

As they entered the Arashiyama Bamboo Forest, the towering bamboo stalks swayed gently in the cool winter breeze, casting dappled shadows on the snow-covered path. The snow crunched under their shoes as they walked, and the low angle of the sun created long shadows and a softer, diffused light that filtered through the frost bamboo, casting a gentle glow on the surroundings.