What I'm Not

Chapter 12

I woke up to the sound of cracks breaking the air. I followed the source to find my dad whipping my brother with a long leather belt in the garage. My dad was cussing him out.

"Dad, stop!"

He turned toward me. "You stay out of this."

Takara slowly pushed himself up from the floor but another belt kept him down. He was shirtless and his hair was a spiked mess. Red lashes scattered across his back.

"What did he do?" I asked, feeling rage build up in me.

"He called me an 'otosan.' I don't know what that is but it drives me crazy!"

Takara's calm voice surprised us both. "Otosan simply means father in Japanese. You did know I'm Japanese-American, right?"

The belt came down and Takara gasped.

"Stop it," I shouted. "You're hurting him!"

"Thats the point!" My dad whipped him again. "A punishment should never be gentle!"

"Then why are you gentle with me!?"

"Because you're a girl! Your mother tells me how to deal with you. Now that I have a son, I can dictate his punishments."

He raised the belt but I jumped in front of him. "Thats enough."

"Step aside, Brooklyn."

"No. Not until you stop."

Takara grabbed my shoulder and lifted himself up. "Move, Brooklyn."

"No, he'll hurt you."

Takara gently pushed me aside. "If I deserve a punishment, I might as well take all of it."

I looked at my dad to find him as shocked as I was. Takara's neutral voice revealed nothing. No anger, no pain, no hatred...

No emotion.

My dad dropped his belt. "What are you," he asked.

Takara slowly straightened his back. "I'm your new son, Takara Katzuko. You adopted me yesterday, remember?"

My dad snarled and walked inside. Takara picked up a t-shirt lying on the floor beside him and slowly put it on.

"Are you okay," I asked. "I can find some fish oil for the whip marks."

He turned to me with an emotion I never thought I would see on his face since his revival.

"That would be nice," he said with an emotional smile. Tears rolled down his lively eyes. "This kind of hurts a bit."