Saiki K PeePee

Ch. 41: Facing the Fury

"Ku-chan, dinner is ready!" His mother's singsong tune filtered into his head, breaking him out of his reverie—it must be time for dinner. Good timing; he needed a break from the perpetual malaise he seemed to be afflicted with nowadays. Her voice floated in soft and soothing, so what should have been the jarring buzz of a kitchen timer instead presented as a songbird's morning chirp. His vision refocused to the outline of the desk in front of him before he blinked and filled in the lines. He had been trying to read, but none of the words ever really stuck in his head. In no particular rush, he stood up from his desk, pushed the chair back in, and dragged himself downstairs.

His father was at the kitchen table reading a manuscript, too engrossed to notice his presence. His mother, however, greeted him cheerfully despite carrying a covered donabe from the stove toward the table but stopped short when she noticed his gloomier-than-usual expression. She shifted uncertainly before heading to the table to place down the pot.

"Is something wrong?" she asked kindly.

Saiki shrugged and headed toward the table. Even if he did know, he had no means of expressing it.

His father roused as he sat down at the table. "Kusuo?" he said, looking up from his stack of papers.

Saiki's piercing gaze darted between his parents as they fixed their troubled expressions on him. Immediately, he heard their echoed thoughts picking up that he had something to say but had no means of expressing it. Great, saved him the trouble.

"What's on your mind?" his mother asked.

Graduation's coming soon, he mumbled, his mouth stretching into an uncomfortable frown bordering on a grimace.

The two of them looked at each other and back at him. "What's wrong with that?" his father asked. In his mind, his father struggled to figure out whether to play it straight or be as much of an embarrassment as usual.

I don't know.

"Are you afraid to move on?" his mother asked.

He grunted and shrugged again. How did they know what he was thinking?

"It's perfectly normal to be worried about the future," his mother said soothingly.

His eyes widened in surprise. Were they saying that he was like everyone else? That his thoughts had become predictable?

"See, Kusuo? You're not as different from us peasants as you think you are," his father said with a smug grin.

Don't compare me to a spoiled rich kid, he grumbled. He'd have wiped the stupid grin off of his father's stupid face if he wasn't using his mother as a shield...

Why was he reacting like this? These defensive outbursts seemed only to bring up more questions. Shouldn't he be happy about feeling normal? Why were his thoughts and actions separate?

"One day you're going to have to accept that you're just as normal as us, then maybe you'll be humble enough to admit that I taught you how to use the internet..."

The only valuable words in that entire statement was "accept" and "normal". Those troublesome words—or some insinuation of them—had bounced around his head for some time now. Reflecting on Teruhashi-san's park-walking analogy, he imagined it was something that had a time element to it. Despite the strength of his powers waning, he felt no closer to understanding what acceptance was. Accepting the fact that he was a psychic was rational; he couldn't will away his telepathy, after all. Where was the line between pretending and accepting? Or was there truth in both?

"Hey! Your father is talking to you! Are you listening—gack!" his father yelped, his mocking cut short by Saiki's hand closing over his mouth. The embarrassment tried ineffectually to peel the hand away while being lifted up like the wish fulfilling protagonist in a stupid high school drama being bullied.