English is not my first language, and I wrote this a long time ago.
[wrn: Angst, Katsumi is a bad father]
_________________________
The door slammed shut behind Byakko, the sound echoing through the empty house like a final punch. He dashed out into the night, tears streaming down his face, his father's words stinging him more than any bruise from his training. Katsumi's voice had grown sharper and harsher with each passing day, unforgiving throughout their arguments
"You're so weak, I don't know who you take after. Don't call me your father if you don't train properly!"—each attack like a thunderbolt, tearing apart the boy's confidence little by little.
Byakko clutched his backpack, his feet pounding on the pavement, desperately trying to escape the weight of expectations like chains from his own father. He couldn't understand why his father treated him this way; did his father hate him? Did he regret ever having him?
Inside the house, Katsumi stood motionless in the living room, his broad shoulders slumped as silence enveloped them. He let out a long, heavy sigh, the air heavy with regret. His gaze fell on the altar where a framed photograph of CV smiled at him—her eyes, capturing a moment from years ago when life seemed simpler, before she died and time etched deep scars into his world. He gently picked up the photograph, his fingers tracing the glass as if trying to pull her through it.
"I'm sorry" he whispered to the picture, his voice trembling like crumbling wood.
"I thought pushing he harder would make him invincible, so he wouldn't be bullied or hurt by his enemies. But I... I hurt him instead."
He slumped into the sofa, clutching the photograph to his chest, his head bowed.
"What kind of father am I? Shouting, ruining our child's life when all I want is for him to be able to stand strong in the face of adversity. You’ll know how to approach him, how to protect him, and how to make him comfortable opening up."
His tears didn't fall, but unconsciously he clutched the photo frame tighter.
"CV, I need you here. This house is like a cage without you – raising our child alone, struggling day by day. He'll listen to you, he'll come back if you call. Please... help me fix this. I can't do it without you."
His monologue hung in the dim light of the living room, like a plea to the empty space, the unchanging smile in the photograph the only witness to the pain gnawing at his chest.
(+ Both Japanese and Vietnamese cultures have the custom of placing photos/memorial tablets of deceased relatives in the home, Katsumi initially wanted to put up a memorial tablets for CV because looking at her picture every day would break his heart, but not being able to see her would also make him sad too🙏)
theartofmadeline
dededos
vaporwave
origamiaround
romaincrisis
blakekathryn
izzy806
titsay
prguitarman
