Chapter Text
As the sun rises, light pours into my room, stirring me awake. I look around, expecting to see my familiar room, and hear the sounds of my mom making breakfast in the next room over, but that's not what I see.
…I'm back in juvie. Once again I'm reminded of the horrible decisions of my past, and yet, I wouldn't change a thing if I was given the chance. But this doesn't feel right, wasn't I released last year? I didn't get arrested again, did I? Wait, no, even if I was arrested, I'm old enough to go to real jail now. So why am I here?
I pick up a familiar voice from a few rooms away. “Tsukiyomi, do you understand why you're here?”
That's the voice of my therapist, back when I was about… 13, I think.
The next voice is even more familiar. “...call me Yami, please.” It's my own voice. Granted, I sound much younger.
The therapist responds, sounding very tired with past me already. “Okay, Yami. Now please answer the question.”
“...I stole money. On the computer.” I remember this conversation all too vividly. This must be the day I was arrested.
“Correct. You did something really bad, and now you need to spend time here.” The therapist talks down to me. I always hated how they treated me like a kid. “But I won't lie, what you did… It's impressive. You might have some real talent.”
Talent… I wouldn't call it that. I just know how to use computers. It's not that special.
“But you must understand that hacking is not something you should be doing. It's going to lead you down a life of crime. I don't want to see a good kid like you fall into that lifestyle.”
A chill runs down my spine. The atmosphere in this place changed dramatically as the lights began to flicker. I don't know what's happening, but I hate it.
A door opens, and inside I see… my mom?
…Oh. Let me clarify.
I see my mom's corpse. I feel my hands tremble. This isn't real, right? It's just a dream… a really awful dream…
“This is your fault, you know.” The therapist spoke up again. I wish he would shut up. “You killed her. If you hadn't chosen the life you had, this wouldn't have happened.”
That's not true… I didn't kill anyone. I just stole some money, that's all…
I look down at my hands, covered in blood. I resist the urge to vomit as dread overwhelms me. I… I didn't kill her, did I?
The therapist makes direct eye contact with me. Adult me, not the child me. My entire body froze as I started to panic.
The therapist said something, but I couldn't understand what. All I could hear was one word. “Despair.”
That's pretty much how I feel right now. Despair. I killed my mom. My only family is dead.
I pass out, right in front of my mom's corpse.
…
“...Yami? Yami!” I hear a much more welcoming voice. “Dang it Yami! Wake up!”