The Heart of a Lion

Projecting waaay too much of myself onto Fumi and thats the 🍵

Fumihiro's sneakers gripped the damp cement of the sidewalk as he slowly walked home in the drizzling rain, sure that it would get worse as the night progressed, as per the weather forecast. Despite this, his lips were still canted up in a way that was always ready to smile, the laughter he forced so easily on command ready to bubble up to reinforce his facade.

He walked with a pep in his step, and if anyone asked, he would say he was still excited from a game well won, still feeling the effects of the adrenaline used to dunk the winning ball during overtime. It would be the answer they expected, and he would readily supply it to eager ears, not wanting to argue with what people wanted to believe.

They wanted to believe that Fumihiro Naoki, head of the basketball team at his high school, had nothing but fortune, with long legs and a shock of vermilion hair to pair with deep sea blue eyes, was friendly and happy, no one finding the need to look further than the hand-picked parts of himself he presented on a pretty, eye-catching platter.

Except for maybe two people, his old time freind sense grade school, Yuuto, and someone he considered to be very close to his girlfriend, Shiratu. Yuuto was the only person he willingly opened up to, a person he couldn't lie to even if he felt the need, seeing as he knew his home life was less than stellar, and although Shiratu never directly said anything to him in the blunt way from her he found a little endearing, she gave him certain looks that filled him with dread and knowingness, certain hints dropped during conversation.

Maybe I should tell her a little bit, he thought as his phone vibrated in his pocket, and he ducked under an awning to check it. She is really close to me after all. It feels like I'm lying to her.

Pulling his phone from his warm dry pocket, he pressed the power button to be shocked with the overpowering brightness of his screen, pupils dilating as he flinched away, turning down the light almost as low as it would go. It wasn't even bright out anymore.

Checking his notifications, he saw he got a text from Shiratu. Speak of the devil.

Shiratu, sent at 7:56 pm. Seen.
𝙷𝚎𝚢 𝙵𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚘,
𝙸 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚢 𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏
𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍. 𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚠

He smiled gently and texted her back, not wanting to worry her further.

Me, sent 7:57 pm. Seen.
𝚂𝚛𝚢, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚝?

Shiratu, sent at 7:57 pm. Seen.
𝚒 𝚊𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚘 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚔𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚜𝚜

Message received. He put his phone back in his pocket, not even bothering to turn it off as he continued on his path home, to the sprawling house and silence and loneliness that awaited him there. Mom's got another shift tonight.

He thought back to one evening in middle school where he had caught his mother just before she left for work again. He didn't know another person alive that worked more than she did. He had come through the door just as she grabbed her keys from the bowl in the genkan, her pink eyes muted as she gazed at him. He remembered distinctly thinking that it was a beautiful bright day, at least up until she spoke to him.

Rather than providing an explanation as to where she was going or how long she was expected to be gone or the conditions of her leave, she simply said, "You're self sufficient enough at this age; I didn't raise you to coddle you. You should know what to do." Was all she said in her cold, sharp voice.