The room buzzed with the clinking of cutlery and the soft murmur of conversation, creating a stark contrast to the tension simmering between Kenji and Kyoko. As they sat at the lavish dining table, an ornate spread laid out before them, the air felt thick with unspilled words, heavy with unacknowledged feelings.
Kyoko forced a smile, trying to mask the turmoil inside her. It was a night she should have enjoyed—family gathered together, the comforting aromas of home-cooked food filling the air—but she couldn't escape the feeling that this dinner held an entirely different weight for her. Kenji glanced at her, a smirk rising on his lips.
"So, how's life without Anele?"
"Mind your business,"
Kyoko shot back, her voice sharp, a flash of anger igniting her tone.
" Why when yours is more interesting sis?."
Kenji replied, leaning back in his chair, a disingenuous air of nonchalance clinging to him, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. Kyoko narrowed her eyes at her brother, feeling the familiar heat of anger simmering in her stomach.
"You think this is a game?"
"Oh please,"
he scoffed, fully leaning into his antagonism.
"You're just bitter that I might have a shot now."
"You're delusional!"
Kyoko snapped, the tension rippling through the table, drawing the attention of their parents and grandparents, who exchanged concerned glances. A heavy silence fell, but Kenji pressed on.
"I'm glad she finally came to her senses. You thought you could just throw her aside and expect your life to go on untouched?"
Kyoko closed her eyes taking a few deep breaths to calm herself but Kenji just kept taunting her.
"You don't know anything about our relationship,"
Kyoko spat, gripping the edge of the table until her knuckles turned white.
"You don't know what Anele and I went through. You don't get to judge me or her."
Kenji shrugged, feigning indifference, but the edge in his voice betrayed his irritation.
"Maybe you're right, but that doesn't change the fact that you're alone now and I'm about to be the one picking up the pieces."
The tension in the air thickened again, the soft clinking of cutlery now sounding like a loud echo of their unspoken conflict. Kyoko could feel the heat radiating from her cheeks, a sense of humiliation creeping in. She glanced at their parents; their faces reflected concern, disappointment, but also a readiness to step in—the unspoken mandate always present at family dinners.
"Kenji, enough,"
their mother finally interjected, breaking the charged silence.
"This isn't the time or place to air such grievances. We're here to enjoy dinner together."
Kenji rolled his eyes in response but didn't push further. He reflexively picked at the food in front of him, pretending he was absorbed in the meal. The atmosphere felt uncomfortably heavy, everyone conspiring in silence while tension wound through the table like an unseen thread.
Kyoko turned her attention back to her plate, attempting to focus on anything other than Kenji's taunts. She poked at the food, her appetite lost. Her thoughts drifted to Anele—how vibrant and alive she had been, how her laughter had filled every space and shadow. The companionship had felt natural—like warm sunlight on a brisk day, melting away the chill of the world outside. Losing that was not something she could navigate lightly.
"Watch it, Kyoko,"
Kenji mocked, breaking into her reverie.
"Don't be so glum. That's not how a winning player carries themselves."
"You would know about losing, wouldn't you?"
Kyoko shot back, a little redemption sparking within her as she locked eyes with her brother. There was defiance in her words, daring him to respond.
"Touché,"
he replied, though the corner of his mouth twitched as if he wanted to smile.
" but let's be real. You let her go, and now it's your turn to sit in your own misery."
"That's enough,"
their father said sternly, glaring at Kenji, who finally fell silent. The table remained quiet, the clinking of cutlery fading back into the background hum of distant conversations.
Kyoko took a deep breath. Underneath her surface emotions of anger and loss, there was a fleeting moment of isolation—was there anyone at this table who truly understood?
YOU ARE READING
WHEN I NEEDED YOU. ( Lesbian Slow Updates.)
General Fiction" Stupid me. I thought you were different." " But I-" " Get away from me! I don't ever want to see your fat face again." Nothing hurt more than her words and the look of disgust on her face. The one person who she thought would believe her did not...
