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Hodaka’s heart leapt into his throat. “You mean I can’t go back.” Hodaka didn’t ask it as a question, because he already knew the answer. Suga looked at Hodaka with something akin to sadness in his eyes, and stuck a baseball cap on his head.
Fists clenched, Hodaka took a steadying breath. Everything was going wrong. The weather was becoming worse, Hina looked exhausted every time she sent the rain away, Hodaka was running from the police, Suga just told him he was no longer welcome at the office, and now he was being told to turn himself in so he could get shipped back to his hardass father.
“I’m filing for custody of my daughter, it’s a delicate time Hodaka. You can understand, right?” Suga sighed, when Hodaka didn’t answer, shuffling his hand through his wallet pulling out cash. “Just go home little man.You have a place to go, and people who care about you.”
Hodaka let out a bitter laugh and didn’t move to grab the money Suga held out to him. “Why can’t they just leave me alone? I’m not hurting anyone.”
“Well, for one, the police mentioned that you have an illegal fire arm kid.” Suga leaned back against the head rest and let out a breath. “And two, your parents reported you missing—they’re treating it like a kidnapping case. If I’m seen with you, I’ll be more of a suspect than I already am.”
“Why the hell would they care.” Hodaka muttered under his breath, leaning against the car window and watching the rain drops slide down the windshield and hit the hood of the car.
Suga reached a hand out towards Hodaka, before seemingly thinking better of it and dropping it. “You know, you never told me why you ran away in the first place.”
Hodaka let the sentence hang in the air for a moment. Did he really want to tell Suga about his piece of shit dad? Or worse, what if Suga agreed with Hodaka’s dad? It was quiet in the car, besides the gentle pitter patter of rain on the roof. Suga was just waiting patiently for a response. He calmly leaned back against his seat, arms crossed and feet up on the dash.
Hodaka tugged the brim of the cap low over his eyes and kept a fixed stare out of the window. “My Dad and I—well, let’s just say we don’t get along.” Suga hummed, and Hodaka figured the conversation was over.
He grabbed the door handle, then Hodaka heard Suga ask somewhat flatly, “Did he have something to do with the way your face looked on that boat?”
His pulse sky rocketed and Hodaka felt himself immediately become tense. His hand left the door handle when he flinched back, wincing. It had been a particularly bad beating, so bad that he’d taken off as soon as he recovered enough to ride his bike without collapsing from exhaustion and pain.
Even now, he still didn’t know what he’d done to deserve that punishment. All of his chores had been done, dinner had been prepared, and he hadn’t spoken out of turn or looked at his dad wrong.
“Ah shit, I’m sorry little man.” Hodaka’s reaction must have been enough of an answer. Then he felt a warm hand land tentatively on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze when Hodaka didn’t move away. Suga. “Have you ever gone to the police and reported him?”
“What- you actually think they would take my side?” Hodaka put his feet on the seat and pulled his knees to his chest. As soon as he moved, Suga removed his hand. Hodaka kind of wished he hadn’t, then put his forehead on his arms before continuing. “My dad has friends on the squad. I’m not sure which ones, but if I went to the wrong one the consequences wouldn’t be worth it.”
“Consequences?”
Letting out an irritated breath, Hodaka waved an arm around before settling with, “Yeah, you know…just…consequences.”
Hodaka felt the car move and Suga repositioned himself. “What kind of consequences?” Suga’s voice was softer than it usually was, and was lacking the edge of sarcasm it usually held.
Hodaka focused on a loose thread, picking at his shoes. He really needed to buy a new pair, the rain had completely destroyed this pair and the glue on the soles was starting to fail.
“Hodaka,” Suga prompted, somewhat gently, “What kind of consequences?”
“Just the normal ones.” He muttered, twisting a shoelace around his finger. He risked a glance up, and saw that Suga was still clearly waiting for him to elaborate.
Hodaka looked away. “Like…like getting locked in my room,” He saw himself, fourteen years old, curled up in the corner, waiting for his dad to unlock the door after it had been five days. He didn’t even have a window in his room to see the rain falling outside.
“No food,” He remembered being seven, forced to sit at the table in front of an empty plate while his family ate the food he’d prepared. The hunger had been sharp, but he’d gotten used to it eventually.
“And bea-” Hodaka cut himself off. He left out the obvious one, he couldn’t’ bring himself to say ‘beatings’ out loud. Even thinking it brought the image of his dad’s clenched jaw and swinging fists into terrifying clarity. He shrugged. “Just the usual stuff like that.”
“Little man—Hodaka— can you look at me for a sec?” Suga’s voice sounded a little bit strained, and when he looked up, Hodaka saw that the man looked absolutely crushed. “Those are not normal punishments.”
Hodaka broke eye contact and looked away. They were normal for him. To his surprise, Suga reached over and gently grasped Hodaka’s chin, ignoring the slight flinch, and tilting his head up so he would meet the man’s eyes. “Those aren’t normal. There is nothing, nothing you could’ve done that would deserve that.”
Hodaka’s eyes wandered to the window again, even though his head was still facing Suga. “I spilled soup on Mom’s white rug one time.” He didn’t know why he was telling Suga this. “It was worth 300,400 Yen, so Dad-.” Hodaka squeezed his eyes shut, feeling tears well up.
“No damaged object is worth causing intentional harm to a child.” Suga stated firmly, hands moving to rest on Hodaka’s shoulders. “And no parent should ever beat their child.”
Hodaka sniffed, scrubbing angrily at his eyes. Darn tears, apparently it only took a few words to send him bawling.
“I think we should go to the police, little man.” Suga said, and Hodaka felt the tension bleed back into his shoulders. He stiffened and leaned away immediately.
“Didn’t you hear what I said?” his voice cracked. “My dad knows them. He knows them.” Hodaka was openly sobbing now, huge heaving sobs that racked his body. He put a trembling hand over his mouth, and curled into a ball. “And he’ll kill me when I get sent back. He’ll kill me. He’ll kill me.”
He’ll kill me. The words echoed in his head as the reality of them sunk in, blocking out any other noises. His dad wouldn’t be holding back any more. It would make the last beating look like a vacation compared to what was coming. On top of everything, he was wanted by the police for carrying and firing an illegal weapon. He was bringing shame to his family. That was an offense his dad did not treat lightly.
“Hodaka, breath kid!” Suddenly, he was enveloped in warm arms. Hodaka gasped, clutching at the arms desperately and leaning into the hold. “There you are, breath. Just breathe kid, listen to the rain. It’ll be okay.” Hodaka focused on taking one breath at a time, tears still falling lightly, and listened to Suga’s breathing and the pattering of the rain.
He didn’t know how long they stayed in the awkward position, but when Hodaka finally pulled away, he felt wrung out and exhausted. Hodaka jerked slightly, but stilled as Suga cupped his tear streaked face in his hands and gently wiped them away with his thumbs. Hodaka couldn’t remember a time when someone had treated him like this, when an adult had cared.
“Just listen to me for a moment, ‘kay?” Suga said gently, holding Hodaka’s face in his hands like he was something precious. “Remember how I told you I’m trying to get custody of my kiddo?”
Hodaka nodded, slightly disappointed when Suga removed his hands. “Mhm.”
“Well,” Suga continued, “to do that, I’m gonna have a trial period as a foster parent starting tomorrow morning. If we go to the station and-” Hodaka’s breathing picked up again, “it’s okay, it’s okay. Nothing bad will happen, just hear me out. If we go to the station and file a report against your parents, I will do everything in my power to get you, Hina, and Nagi as placements.”
“Really?” Hodaka asked, mouth hanging open in shock. ”You’d do that for us?”
“You kids have grown on me,” Suga smiled, “And I’d hate to let you guys go. So whatd’ya think, Hodaka? Do you want to go to the station? I’ll be there with you the whole time.”
“What about the whole illegal gun situation?” Hodaka said, fiddling with the end of his rain poncho.
“Do you still have it?” Suga asked, leaning back and relaxing slightly.
“Yeah, it’s in my pack.” Hodaka said, unclipping it and handing it over when Suga held his hand out.
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.” Suga put the pack into the car’s glove compartment. “We’re going to the station, turning in the gun, explaining the whole situation, and telling them about your parents.” He paused for a second. “Do you have any evidence of injuries on your phone?”
Hodaka nodded, “Just some from the last time and…” He paused, debating. He had plenty of scars to show for it. “And these.” He turned his back to Suga, and lifted the poncho and the shirt underneath. He heard the sharp intake of breath from Suga, and wasn’t surprised.
The scars on his back were piled on top of one another in a mass of intertwining lines. It didn’t always look like that—it started after his dad deemed him ready for the buckle side when the leather ’wasn’t cutting it anymore’.
“Goddamn Hodaka, I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize, you didn’t do it.” Hodaka said, dropping the poncho and shirt, allowing his mistakes to be covered once again. “Let’s go and talk to Hina and Nagi. They’ll want to know what's going on.”
“Alright kid, let’s go.” Suga said, grabbing an umbrella from his car. Hodaka flipped the hood of his poncho up, and they both stepped out of the car. “Come here, the umbrella is big enough for two. Lead the way, little man.” Suga said, then gesturing for Hodaka to point the way. Under Suga’s umbrella, they walked towards Hina’s apartment together in the pouring rain.