I.

PART ONE:

THE FIRST DAY

Thursday

22nd May 2025

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. . .

I can’t say I didn’t enjoy silence, I very much appreciate the time I get to myself. Even if it makes me feel lonely, I still get my amusement out of it. The reasoning doesn’t feel like it’s there, but do I need to reason it out?

Why should I? People believe what they believe but don’t reason those thoughts out, so why should I provide an explanation about what I enjoy? I can’t do that, I can’t explain why I love silence and spending my free time on my bed. Maybe reading, drawing, texting?

Or maybe I just have music blasting in my ears from my headphones, I enjoy that too. Music makes me feel free, as if I’m escaping a prison I’ve been trapped in. As if the thorns tugged in my skin and body came out painlessly and didn’t wither my body. That feeling must be freeing, correct?

I took a deep inhale of the fairly fresh air, the subway wasn’t my most notable enjoyment, sitting next to my sister was enjoyable however, she’s a very nice girl. Her name is Akane, it’s spelt あかね and it means deep red, I know that’s one of her favorite colors.

My name is King, I don’t know where my parent’s got that name from, it doesn’t have any japanese origins, but I digress.

Our surname is Okamura, however, my father never changed his surname, his surname is Aoki. Okamura means hill village while Aoki means blue tree. Both of them are very beautiful to me, but I don’t know where they originate from and I’ve never had enough care to actually ask either of my parents.

“King, what time is it?” My sister asked me with her eyes barely staying open, she had her head resting on my shoulder, sure it was not the most comfortable, but I could deal with it, especially if it had some sort of soothing effect on her.

“It’s eight, eight am that is,” I looked at her with a gentle smile painted on my face, my breathing wasn’t exactly steady, considering this trip back home has been a slog. I want to sleep but I’m not sleeping on a public transportation vehicle.

I despise public transportation, people are disgusting. That would include my family as well, though, maybe not my sister, or my mother for that fact. My father and I don’t have a very close bond, but I think it works better that way. He isn’t around often, considering he doesn’t work on the island we live and he’s usually out of town for weeks on end.

“Whatchu reading?” Akane asked with a gentle, unsteady voice, her eyes still barely staying open. Her breath sounded a little raspy, maybe she caught a cold or something while we were off the island.

“Homestuck, I’m on page two-thousand-eleven,” I gently said back, “I think you’d like it. It’s interesting.”

“The art looks cool, I might read it,” she was staring at my phone screen for quite some time. I was getting introduced to yet another character during Act 4.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool art,” I responded back. I used to be told by one of my old friends that it was definitely worth the read when we all lived in Shibuya.

“I can't wait to go home…” she spoke slowly, I'm sure she wanted to finally sleep in her bed. I did as well, of course. Being off the island was a strange experience after about eight months.

I enjoy being in the mellow of the world insead of the bustling crowds. Shibuya was extremely crowded, considering I hate being around large crowds of people, you could assume I was uncomfortable. The oddity of it being strangely familiar but also different felt strange as well.

“King?” Akane gently asked as she started to sit back up. “Do you think life will be easier after high school?”

Akane was a year 9 and I was a year 11, we both experienced different things.

I was friends with Diana Bianchi, the most popular girl in my grade. Akane was friends with Akira Chikafusa, she's also a year 11, she's relatively quiet and people usually forget she exists. She's also never been over, however Akane has been over Akira’s place numerous times.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“I don't know,” I answered as honestly as possible. “For me, probably not. For you? Well, when are you planning to work?”

“As soon as I can,” she responded. Her face lit up like a lightbulb.

“That's a good thing,” I claimed. “And are you planning to go to college?”

“Most likely,” she spoke.

“For what?” I snapped back at her response.

“Business, to help Hisa,” she claimed, she's never really been all that into business, at least from what I could tell, but Hisa's business could really give her money. Loads of it. Last month alone his business brought in roughly ten million yen.

I've never asked him what his business is, but everyday when he comes home he looks exhausted. And he smells disgustingly sweaty too.

“Well, if that's your goal, you'll have to ask him what he does,” I responded back. We weren’t exactly sure how to bring it up to him, however, I did know I wanted to ask him.

“Yeah, maybe I will this week or something,” Akane responded. Suddenly, her face gleamed slightly. “Wait, there might be a school project coming up in one of my career classes. Maybe I could ask him about his job for that!”

“That sounds like… an idea,” I spoke without thinking. “A good idea, that’s what I meant.” The light came through the bus with a bright shine. “Mom, are we going to school today?”

She was immersed in a novel once again, just like she always is. My mothers name is Sato. Sato Okamura.

Before I was born, she was a showgirl, under the name, Stephanie. That’s how she met my father, Haruki. She resigned from the position after my father noticed it was negatively affecting her mood. But, I don’t know much about that story, except for the fact that she says it isn’t any of my business, and that she’ll tell me when she thinks I’m mature enough. Doesn’t really ring the proper bell in my mind, though, she still has her old outfit.

My father passed away when I was twelve and Akane was ten. My mother doesn’t like talking about it, he died from cancer, lung cancer to be exact. I don’t like talking about it either.

“Mom,” I spoke once again.

“Sato, honey, King’s talking to you,” Hisa leaned over to my mother, she looked up from her novel and spoke, “Hm?”

“Are we going to school today?” I asked for the second time.

“We were thinking of sending you in late, just because your father and I-”

“Uncle,” Akane interrupted.

“-have some shopping to do.” She finished.

“But will shopping take that long?” I questioned her, surely shopping wouldn't last from nine till roughly three, could it? “What are you even shopping for?”

“Clothes, things for the house, especially the necessary stuff,” she started, as she kept rambling on, I continued to tune her out, “-it's not for fun, it's just for stuff we need.”

“Alright, fair,” I sighed.

. . .

When we finally arrived at the Hojimi coast after a long bus ride, I hopped off of the bus and stretched out my limbs, hearing some cracks from my body. For what it was, the bus ride back to the Hojimi coast wasn't as terrible as I figured it would've been.

I still really did not want to go to school, but without a trusted guardian, I'm not sure if I would've been able to go back to the island.

“Alright kiddos,” my mother spoke to Akane and I. “I'll bring you two to the school and then you're off for the day. Your father and I can't ride the boat with you guys back home, but you should be fine alone, right?”

Well that answers my question about needing consent from them to get on the boat.

“Yeah, we should be,” I responded with a faint and slightly quiet voice. “I can text you when we're heading back over here to get the boats.”

“Alright then,” my mother spoke gently. “Say bye to your father.”

Even though I wasn't the fondest of my uncle, I still had a deep respect for him.

“Bye Uncle Hisa!” Akane yelped as she headed over to the parking garage.

“Bye dad,” I let my tongue slip out those formal parental words that I'd never let out before.

Both my mother, sister, and uncle's faces turned into slight shock, especially Hisa's. He didn't look mad, he seemed to have enjoyed it slightly.

“I thought I was your uncle,” he cooed with a slight chuckle. He definitely was dying inside, most likely from the humiliation bestowed upon my face.

But I can't lie, calling him dad felt correct.

Almost a little too correct.