Fate. A predetermined supernatural power. The will of the universe. Fate is order. It writes, and rewrites, gives and takes. It spins vibrant red strings that flow into the world and connect people who are destined to meet, to love, to share a story...
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"ASSEMBLY SUPERVISOR. ASSEMBLY FUCKING SUPERVISOR. THAT'S A TITLE THAT COMES WITH RESPONSIBILITY AGURI, AND I'M STARTING TO QUESTION YOUR QUALIFICATIONS."
I tiptoe down the stairs and hold my breath as I walk past my parents' bedroom to the foyer.
"YOU KNOW DAMN WELL THAT I WOULD RUN THE ENTIRE FACTORY BY MYSELF IF I COULD. BUT I'M ONE MAN. ONE MAN."
My eyes swiftly scan the rack by the door for my socks, and when I don't see them, I slip my bare feet into my shoes and bend over, fumbling with the laces.
"HOW CAN YOU BE SO FUCKING USELESS—"
I give up and stuff the laces in through the sides before shooting to my feet, praying that the door isn't locked and that I don't have to go back to their room to get the key. I try the knob, my heart threatening to tear out of my chest, and thank fuck, the door gives.
"USELESS MOTHER, USELESS FUCKING S—"
The door clicks shut behind me, cutting off the rest of my father's sentence. Doesn't matter though. I know what he was going to say. I've heard it all before. And he's not wrong.
I stand still for a moment, allowing the wind to howl in my ears and wash away his voice, before I take off. It's liberating—running. I can scream, and my voice is lost to the wind. I don't stay in one place for longer than a second, so I can't piss anyone off. No one has to see me, hear me, or put up with me. I carry myself. And it's fun.
It feels so fucking good.
I first discovered I liked it back when I used to rush over to Senpai's house every morning so we could walk to school together, high on the excitement and anticipation of getting to see her. It doesn't matter that I don't have a clear destination now. It actually works out better. I can simply run, and since there's no one waiting for me at the finish line, I don't have to worry about being too slow, running past them, or losing my way and letting them down.
Ever since I turned running into a habit, I haven't added a single cloud to the storm brewing on that wall. So I run laps around my neighbourhood, then move on to the next neighbourhood, then the next, until I've killed two hours and can't put off going to school anymore.
If I'm late, the teacher will call my parents. The ring will disturb them, and the conversation will waste their time. Mama and Papa are busy. Those were the words I grew up hearing. Don't disturb Mama and Papa.
So I suck it up and go to school.
*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:
"Morning," I tell the nerd as I collapse into my seat by his side.
I expect him to look startled, the way he used to when I first started to greet him at school, but when he looks up, the set of his face is undisturbed. "Ren. Good morning," he says politely, and that's it. He promptly returns his attention to the books splayed out before him, turning his face away from me.
