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“If you ever miss me, Fuuta, just look at yourself in the mirror and see all the parts of me in you.”
“Like my hair..? And my eyes?”
“Yes! Just like that. You’re half me, so I’ll always be a part of you. Your sister is half me too, so when you're together, it’s basically like I’m right there.”
“Mama, you’re not leaving though, right..?”
“...”
___
Fuuta stared at himself in the mirror and groaned. What a mess he had become. He patted down his messy hair, it had grown quite a bit, he was due for a haircut. He pulled down his mask, examining his features.
Before when he was still in elementary school, right after she left, doing this would make him feel better. But as time went on, staring at himself just made him feel sick. His crooked teeth that his father never bothered to pay to get them fixed, the heavy eye bags that never went away, his slanted eyes that resembled his old man.
From his memory, his mother was everything amazing, how could he see her in himself? Not when she was an incredible person, and he wasn’t. Everyday, he looked more and more like his dad, or maybe it had been so long since he’s seen her that he was starting to forget how she looks.
Today was mother’s day. He wasn’t one who celebrated annual things like those, even less care about them. Even so, hearing everyone talk about it, all the teachers reminding the students to thank their mothers, it made him miss her nonetheless.
He pushed himself away from the mirror, looking at himself wasn’t working anymore. His sister had gone off to college, so now he was all alone. All alone except for one other. His sorry excuse for a father. Fuuta was never fond of him, except for maybe when he was a child before the divorce. Ever since the separation, he turned to drugs and alcohol, letting the sorrow consume him, successfully neglecting his children.
Fuuta pushed himself away from the mirror and walked out of the bathroom, he dragged his feet as he walked over to his room, the creaking of the wood irritating him as always. He pushed open the door, pausing at the entrance before going straight to his bed to lay down. His room was slowly becoming a mess, but he’d clean it up later.
Eventually…
He rolled over onto his side. It had been a long, exhausting day, he wanted it to end immediately. He attempted to go onto his phone and scroll on social media, but every few videos would remind him of what he didn’t have, or a commercial would annoy him with that as well. He never understood. What’s so important about mother’s day anyway, and why does no one ever shut up about it? Sure they’re the ones who give birth to all humans and provide from their families, and they should be there to help raise, comfort and take care of their children by taking on that responsibility-
No… he couldn’t spiral like this. The last thing he wanted to do was be angry at her. Of course he was pissed at her for abandoning him and his sister, but it wasn’t like he knew the reason why she had no contact with them. No one ever told him if she did something where it would have put him in danger to see her, or if she just plainly ran away. There were so many possibilities. He didn’t want to think negatively of her on this day.
Who was she? He thought. He was young when she left, and he hardly thought about her in his teenage years, but it’s hard to forget about someone like that in your life. He closed his eyes and tried to remember her face. It was blurred and unfocused, but he could never forget her warm smile, one that would comfort him in any situation. She had soft, long orange hair just like his, he remembered she cut it really short before she left as well, which is how he usually gets his hair done nowadays. Her eyes were green as well, at least he believes so. Despite being half Japanese, his mother’s genes were dominant. He always looked just like her as a kid. He would ask for nothing more. Looking like her caused him a bit of trouble though, especially when his dad was drunk… Whatever, what else was there? Her skin was fair, he knew that for sure, she was Scottish, but was adopted by a Japanese family which is why he lived here. He figured that’s probably where he got his anger issues from.
While trying to remember what he could about his mother, he slowly drifted off to sleep. The next morning he woke up with a horrible headache, his head pounded in a way that made him feel sick. He propped himself onto his elbow and checked his clock that was blaring its alarm loudly. He aggressively turned it off, kicking his legs off the bed while yawning. Great… school..
He got ready quickly, lightly brushing his hair, brushing his teeth, grabbing his mask, getting dressed and packing his bag. He didn’t pack lunch because it was too much work for him, he knew he’d be late walking to school if he did. Before opening the door to leave he called out, “bye Dad!” Yet no response. He huffed and walked out the door.
On his way to school, his brain drifted to his mom again. The day after mother’s day was just as bad, especially when the teachers ask what you did for mother’s day. They’re all insensitive, they don’t even take into consideration that some people don’t have mothers? He tightened his grip on his backpack, knuckles turning white. He decided to think about something else, but then he just remembered that his friends would be gone on a soccer tournament. He was on the team, but his dad forgot to sign the paper work, thus making it so he couldn’t go. He thought about sneaking on the bus, but it wasn’t worth getting in trouble later on.
Once he arrived at the gate of the school, he instinctively pulled his mask higher on his face. He took a deep breath before making his way inside. He wasted no time at his locker, attempting to stay out of the hallways as much as possible and made a beeline straight to his class. His first class was computer engineering, he sat at the back of the class, opened up his laptop and started playing games. He rested his head in the palm of his hand as he waited for his class to start.
The teacher clasped her hands together and called the attention of the class. She was always too energetic for early mornings and strangely loved hearing about things that absolutely did not concern her. She always asks “how was everyone’s weekend” “tell me what you did this winter break” and etc. Luckily, yesterday he managed to stay unnoticed so she didn’t call on him to ask what he was going to do for mothers day, but he knew she’d bring it up again.
“Alright class, as a mother myself, I’d like to know what amazing things you’ve done for your wonderful providers. You all should be thankful you’re alive and thank the one who birthed you. I think it’s the most important holiday, since it’s basically a celebration of life.” She stated.
Said no one ever, Fuuta thought. Who even considers this day as a holiday? He sunk further and hid behind his screen. One by one, the teacher asked the students what they did for their mother, scolding those who underachieved, and saying how she wished her kids would do something like that for those who went all out. Just when he thought he was in the safe, he heard his name.
“Ah, Fuuta, I always forget you’re back there. Tell us what you did for your mother.” He probably was giving a death stare when she asked that, visibly irritated.
“Nothing.” He answered bluntly. The class looked around each other, not because they cared, but because they were curious how the teacher would react.
“What? How could you do nothing? You’ve always been the… ungrateful type.. How did your mom feel about that?”
“My life isn’t your business.” He thought he heard someone over dramatically gasp at that, which he rolled his eyes in response.
“Do you understand how bratty you sound right now? Maybe I’d kinda understand if it was father’s day, but everyone owes their life to their mothers.” He narrowed his eyes, was she being serious? She placed her hands on her hips and stared at him.
“I’m not being a brat, you’re being insensitive” The teacher took a deep breath and calmed herself.
“And how’s that? I just asked a simple question, to see how you express your gratitude.”
He paused, did he actually want to share something so personal to the entire class? It was strange what teachers took interest in, but there's always that one that makes a scene over nothing.
“I… My mom left when I was in elementary school, I haven’t seen her for years.” He finally admitted and looked down, he didn’t want to see anyone’s faces, or reactions, he just wanted to die at that moment.
The teacher exhaled, “I am so sorry-”
“Save it, leave me alone and do your stupid job.”
The teacher nodded her head and slowly went back to the front of the class. He tangled his hands into his hair and rested his elbows onto the desk. They were staring at him, he could feel it. He didn’t even notice when the teacher started the class again, all he could feel was the thick tension in the air.
___
Class was over, and like usual Fuuta was one of the first to leave and bolt out of the classroom, but he wasn’t quick enough. One of the guys from his class was leaning against his locker, preventing him from grabbing the stuff he needed for English class. He and his friends snickered.
“Would you look at that, it’s the orphan.” He laughed. Fuuta stared at him, tightening his hands on his computer.
“I have a dad, actually” He responded, eyes narrowing. He used his elbow to push the other guy away from his locker.
His classmate didn’t like that, and was honestly surprised he was able to move him in the frist place.
He shoved him back, knocking the redhead on the floor. “Don’t push me, wimp. Why the hell are you wearing that stupid mask, you always have it on. It’s not like you're sick or anything.”
Fuuta groaned when he hit the floor, he was terrified, but yet instead of cowering, he fought, “What was that? What kind of cliché form of bullying is this? No one does that anymore, get with the times!”
The guy just shook his head, not really knowing how to respond. The hallway was starting to fill up, so it wasn’t like they could get away with teasing him any further. Fuuta hesitantly stood up after grabbing his stuff, he stared directly into the bully’s eyes.
“Fine, we’ll leave you alone.” One of his friends said, not before another one went up to him and pulled off his mask.
“H-hey! Give that back” He yelled, but quickly covered his mouth after, “that’s not funny!”
“Oh, you so have fucked up teeth? I’d hide it too if I were you, don't worry” He walked off, his friend dropping the mask and stomping on it before leaving.
Fuuta bent down and grabbed it, “don’t worry? Fuckass jerk” he mumbled under his breath. He wished he fought back harder, but he couldn’t bring himself to… He stared at the mask in his hands, he didn’t want to wear it after it had been stomped on. He lifted his hood over his head and shoved it in his pocket before standing up again.
Just a few more classes to go…
___
Luckily, those bullies didn’t bother him for the rest of the day, he had hoped they forgot about him. His friends usually scared away people like them, but since they weren’t there it’s obvious why he got picked on then out of any day. He walked back home on his own, staring at his screen as he walked down the sidewalk.
When he got back home he ran up to his room like he usually did. His room was safe, he was all alone, he didn’t have to worry about anyone or anything. But then he looked over to his side and saw his reflection in one of the small mirrors in his room. He walked up to it and looked at himself. He didn’t have to worry about anyone but himself… His eyes… were slanted like his father’s… his teeth were crooked, nothing like his mom’s beautiful smile… his eye bags were heavy and never went away no matter how much sleep he got.
“If you ever miss me, Fuuta, just look at yourself in the mirror and see all the parts of me in you.”
…
This face tormented him, it was part of his flaws, it was what reminded him of someone he couldn’t talk to anymore. Someone who he needed support from, someone who could tell him that he wasn’t ugly and didn’t need to hide his face to feel safe. He punched the mirror suddenly, mostly on impulse, he groaned loudly in response to the shards puncturing his knuckles. He grabbed what remained of it and its shards before throwing it aggressively in the trash.
He wished he never had to see his reflection ever again!
___
He stared at himself in the mirror, his right eye covered by a medical patch, hair sticking out uncontrollably, eye bags worse than ever. Pain coursed through his body, like never before. He had come to hate this face with all his heart, and his opinion on his appearance would only plummet from now. What did she look like again? He hadn’t thought about that in a while. Despite not seeing her since elementary, the one person he wanted to see the most while in his prison was the one person that was never there for him, and would only stare back at him in disappointment through the reflection. If she saw him—knew him now, he could only imagine how disappointed she’d be.