When Utahime arrived at the bus stop, her legs were already wobbling from the cold, and her body gave up on the weight she's been carrying ever since she ran out of their house. Falling on the snowy road, it was harder to catch her breaths, her lungs were getting tighter as she inhaled and exhaled.
She extended her hand, reaching for the cold morning sky, as if asking for someone to come and save her. The snow only touched her fingers, her face, her skin — but not her soul. Cold air struck her deep within, causing her to cough, and the sound of a bus approaching signaled her to get up or get hit by the slow-moving vehicle.
The bus driver greeted her with a good morning before closing the doors. If Utahime could hide everything — her face, her sadness, — through a small, fake smile, she would have gladly done it. But faking a smile seemed impolite, especially to the old man who started the day with freshly brewed coffee made by his wife. Instead, Utahime bowed before rushing to the furthest rows of seats.
Slow and steady, the bus ride gave Utahime a little bit of peace of mind. From time to time, she replayed how her morning went, which was like scratching and picking at a scab not fully healed — only hurting herself from the same area over and over.
******
"Now, now. Why are you sending our birthday girl away, Aika-chan?" Her mother's eyes looked wicked, her expression twisted between exasperation and vague hopefulness.
"Don't you dare come any closer!" Aika sharply warned, already on her feet, as if protecting Utahime from any harm that might befall her again.
Utahime's eyes fixated on her fingers, they were getting cold, cold, cold — she needed to dip them in warm water and clean the shards off. Her mind was far away, she couldn't even think straight, nor remember how a dream brought her back to her consciousness. Nothing felt right, nothing made any sense.
"There's no need to be defensive. I'm not gonna hurt her," her mother said as if it was a fact. She remained standing a few feet away from the two, not breaking eye contact with Aika.
"Stop acting like a decent mother! You never were and never will!" Aika shouted, enough to get Utahime's full attention, even though her words weren't directed to her granddaughter.
For as long as Utahime could remember, her grandmother has never shouted at anyone. Today, she appeared far from her cool-headed self. She has lost composure, her fists trembled, her breathing was uneven. As her shoulders rise and fall, her cursed energy burned throughout her body. It was inexplicable.
"That's rich, coming from someone who —"
"Leave, Hime!" Aika looked over her shoulder, but her eyes wouldn't meet Utahime's. She was staring straight at the tatami mats, eyebrows furrowed. Her mother huffed out in the background, arms crossed over her chest, closely watching Utahime if she would do as her grandmother told her to or refuse her sternly, like a rebel.
Utahime wanted to stay. Badly.
'If I stayed still, maybe she will change her mind,' she considered. Utahime's stomach clenched with nausea. Her eyes shut tight, begging silently for her grandmother not to repeat those words.
