The Next Troublemakers

Chapter Sixty Seven.

Ayame could feel a headache form behind his eyes the minute he woke up that Tuesdays morning. His every instinct in his body was screaming at him to just get up and lock the god damn door, but he knew  that would only make things worse. He could hear dishes clinking downstairs the smell of some sort of soup being made.  The tingling sense of annoyance ran through him at the mere thought of them barging into his house, cooking his food and making themselves home in his own personal space.

The ache in his head throbbed once more, reminding him of the very much real situation he had to deal with just as he walks out of this door. He slipped his eyes close once more, a flash of pink hair and green eyes greeted his vision, sending a jolt through him. Ayame flipped the covers aside and sat up. That was right, he had someone to cherish now, someone who cherishes him in return, he has gained an entire new family so he doesn't need to be so passive about this anymore.

It was with that thought he got up, pulled on the shirt he had tossed to the side last night before going to sleep and took a deep, calming breath. Then he opened the bedroom door and stepped out, letting it swing close behind him with a slam, loud enough to alert the unwanted and uninvited individuals downstairs. Yet, this time, he honestly couldn't give a fuck.

Making his way downstairs with his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweats, Ayame turned the corner to enter the kitchen and small living room together, he did not pause in his steps as the two people he really had no desire in the world to see, sitting at his table, eating his food. He ignored the immediate stares drilling holes into the back of his head as he walked past them to the bathroom, and proceeded to smear toothpaste on his tooth brush as if there was nothing but air around him. As he brushed, he stared at his reflection in the mirror, his skin had a lovely glow to it, his forehead wasn't creased all the time and his eyes looked so much more full of life than they have ever been. He tilted his head, eyes snagging on the small, fading red mark just under his earlobe and had to fight back a grin at the memory of a well earned make out session that earned him that little mark of ownership.

He finished washing up, grabbing a towel off the rack as he stepped back outside, heading to the fridge to pull out his own ingredients to make himself a little pizza bread. He placed it into the oven, closed the door with a soft click and turned to face his parents, arms crossed.

They were both dressed in suits, sharp, crisp, screaming authority, his mother's hair was loose, hanging over one shoulder. Her expression did not change as her eyes scanned him head to toe, so did his father, both of them analyzing, searching to see where they could strike next, where to crumple his defenses, where to make it hurt so he would have no chose but to bend to their will.

Not anymore, those days were long over. Ayame was finished with dancing to their tune, if they couldn't treat him like a son instead of a tool or a verbal punching bag, then he would do the same to them.

"The principal called us." His father spoke after Ayame merely stared at them, not opening his mouth, he was not going to be the one to start this conversation.
"You, are a top tier student, close to graduating, fighting."

Ayame gave his father a blank look. He had a feeling this would happen, that principal was quite literally a gold digger, she sucked up to those she benefited from so Ayame was not surprised she contacted his parents.

"I don't see how that is any of your business." He said in response, he watched his father's jaw ticked, the man wasn't expecting Ayame to talk back.
"What I do, whoever picks a fight with me, is my business, so kindly stay the he out of it."

"There is a reason you fought, is there not?." His mother spoke up.
"Why don't you tell us what it was." That wasn't a request, that was a command, one Ayame had no intention of obeying.