Chapter Text
why is it that I feel the need to keep all these feelings to myself?
if I shared would it benefit me in any way, or just make things worse?
maybe my purpose in life is to get yelled at.
I wish I could stand up for myself at least once.
who am I kidding, I'm gonna burn this piece of paper anyways.
Yamaguchi ripped out the page from his notebook and crumpled it up quietly, making sure he didn't make any noise. As he slid it into his backpack, he made a mental note to burn it at school. From the other side of the house, Yamaguchi heard rustling that he quickly identified as his dad in the kitchen. From the sound of how he closed the kitchen cupboards, quick and heavy, he wasn't in a good mood.
"Guess I'll stay in here then," Yamaguchi whispered under his breath, his tone a mix of snarky and sad. Sure, he was used to locking himself in his bedroom, but that didn't mean he was pleased when it happened. Locking himself in, of course, meaning shutting the door and hoping nobody came in. The handle didn't have any locking mechanism so it's not like closing the door did much. On top of that his door barely closed anyways; the result of his mom slamming it so hard it fell off it's top hinge. That was years ago, though.
"SO GLAD MY KID TOOK INITIATIVE AND DID THE DISHES WITHOUT BEING TOLD," Yamaguchi's dad started screaming from the kitchen.
"There it is," Yamaguchi whispered even quieter than before, a slight shake in his breath. This was expected, screaming was a familiar noise to Yamaguchi. Obviously, his dad was being sarcastic; Yamaguchi had just got home from school and was working on homework. The dishes weren’t his top priority.
"I JUST LOVE COMING HOME AND SEEING THAT I HAVE TO DO ALL THE WORK AROUND HERE. MY KID REALLY KNOWS HOW TO MAKE HIS DAD FEEL LOVED. SURELY THIS IS HOW HE EXPRESSES HIS LOVE FOR ME, CHORES LEFT UNDONE FOR ME TO CLEAN UP LIKE I'M SOME MAID."
"stop," Yamaguchi felt tears welling up in his eyes. He held them back, causing his face to heat up and the corners of his eyes to sting. He couldn't start crying in case his dad barged into his room. “I’ll do them tomorrow”
"I CAN'T BELIEVE I HAVE THE WONDERFUL OPPORTUNITY TO DO MY FULL TIME JOB AND ALL THE SHIT AROUND THIS FUCKING HOUSE," Yamaguchi noted his sudden use of profanity, usually indicating the climax of an outburst. He clenched his fists and held his breath in case his dad got violent.
"GODDAMNIT, CAUSE DOING THE DISHES IS SO MUCH TO ASK"
"It's not," Yamaguchi moved away from his desk to sit with his back against the door.
"MAYBE HE WANTS ME TO GET POISONED FROM USING DIRTY DISHES"
"No, I-"
"MAYBE HE ENJOYS WATCHING ME SUFFER"
"no,"
"THANK GOD FOR BLESSING ME WITH SUCH AN ASSHOLE OF A CHILD, REAL FUCKING HELPFUL." And with that the door to the garage slammed, leaving Yamaguchi alone with his thoughts.
"I'm sorry," his voice cracked and all the tears he had been holding in fell at once. He quit holding his breath, allowing himself to take deep gasps. With each breath he inhaled some of the tears that were trickling down his face. All of that and he didn’t even see his dad’s angry face. He didn’t even get hit.
Why am I crying so much then?
He felt utterly pathetic.
===
The next morning his walk to school was cold. It felt nice on Yamaguchi's swollen eyes.
How late had he stayed up crying? He wasn't sure. Long enough to wake up with red dots intertwined with his freckles. If there were any plus to his stupid freckles it was their ability to hide the petechiae he commonly wore under his eyes.
The cold was starting to get to him, his hands burying deeper into his jacket pockets. He specifically chose not to wear gloves even though fall was coming to an end soon. The crisp air nipped at his exposed skin. He figured he deserved it. This wasn't anywhere near the worst part of his mornings.
As if summoned by the thought, Yamaguchi heard a group of footsteps coming around the corner. He picked up his pace, nearly running, to try and get away.
"He thinks he can run away," a boy's voice said with a chuckle. Yamaguchi stopped in his tracks. He recognized that voice. It belonged to Miura Takeshi, the exact person he attempted to avoid every morning. "You didn't think you could escape us, right Tadashi?" The use of his first name made him shiver. Yamaguchi closed his eyes and took a deep breath, hoping this would at least be over quickly.
He heard Miura's footsteps right behind him and then he whispered "I said, right Tadashi?"
Before he could even open his eyes he was on the ground. He was being punched, no, kicked? He wasn't sure. Yamaguchi closed his eyes tighter. There was maybe three boys, but he didn't care to know their names let alone their faces.
"C'mon Tadashi put up a fight at least." He didn't.
He stayed there on the ground receiving various sharp pains around his body. With each hit he felt himself tense up until eventually he heard Miura scoff and say "lets go, he's no fun today." He didn't dare open his eyes until he heard their footsteps disappear. His body throbbed. He was sure they drew blood on his side and legs but didn't assess it.
He figured he deserved it. His body aching as he did so, he stood up and continued his lonely, cold walk to school.
===
It wasn't until he stumbled in late to class that Yamaguchi realized he was covered in dirt. Of course, he didn’t realize on his own.
"Yamaguchi," His teacher paused as she looked down at his messed up uniform, "did you get attacked by a bear?" The class laughed, but Yamaguchi didn't.
"I slipped," he lied.
"You-"
"I slipped,” He cut her off before she could question him, “I'm sorry I'm late." Not wanting to expand upon his lie, he quickly made his way to his empty seat. The subject was English, which Yamaguchi figured was fine if he missed anyways. His grades were fine in most his classes but he excelled in English. They were working on idioms. Written on the chalkboard was the idiom they were supposed to translate and interpret. Yamaguchi looked up and almost laughed out loud when he read it.
"Hang in there," he spat. "Yeah right."