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For the rest of the week, Nanami does not come home.
Neither does he send you any text messages or calls.
Not that, after his angry outburst, you would have expected him to update you.
Unsurprisingly, he had left you with no indication about his whereabouts, and all of your own attempts to contact him have been nothing but futile.
Yet, every few minutes, you have not been able to stop looking at your phone, checking to see if you had received any new notifications from him in an agitated manner.
Is he still angry at you?
Of course, he is. You would be a complete idiot for believing otherwise.
More pressing concerns, though, swamp your already anguished mind.
Is he doing well? Has he been eating?
As you continue to receive nothing from Nanami, you begin to feel aggravated but—even more so—heartbroken.
You have not anticipated that you would be consumed by guilt and affliction for something that you have little recollection of. Now the consequences of your unintentional actions, a horrific one nonetheless, are met with the ruthless and agonizing punishment that you deserve.
Or maybe you don't.
Because why should you blame and belittle yourself when the very root of the issue is Gojo Satoru?
It's him. And it feels like it's always him.
Every moment where he seems to redeem himself all turns out to be an act in the end, a sick sport where he entertains himself by ridiculing you.
Inviting Gojo to babysit had been a regrettable idea the moment you messaged him impulsively, when you could not muster the courage to relinquish your offer.
As a result, you drown in your own insolence and remorse as you remember every instance where Nanami chose you.
And when was the last time you ever chose him back?
Maybe this is where you and him were meant to end. After all the pain you've inflicted on him, you don't deserve him, really.
While the torment sinks back into your veins again, you sit slumped at the mattress.
The mirror sends back a sorry reflection of yourself, an image that appears more somber and more miserable the longer you stare.
"Mommy, are you okay?"
The grimace on your face immediately softens into a forced but small smile when Haru comes to roam inside the room.
After a brief struggle, he hauls himself to the bed as well. Despite his kindergartener status, he has grown to be extremely perceptive of your emotions.
Consequently, he crawls to you so that he could rest his head on your lap—a habit of his when he senses your distress.
The little boy's warmth pressed against your body soothes you, and even though fresh tears threaten to spill, troubling a four-year-old with your problems would make you more pathetic and pitiful than you already are.
"Don't worry about me," you respond, fingers gently raking through Haru's winter-like locks. After several silent minutes of the slow yet comforting motion, you gesture to his side of the room. "Time for sleep, no?"
Without your assistance, Haru slides off your mattress only to climb into his own, burrowing himself into his blankets and snuggling with his beloved axolotl.
Although his obedience impresses you, you attribute his obedience to his growing maturity. After all, Haru would be turning five next week.
"Mommy." Haru's pitched voice stops you at the doorway.
Headed to finish kitchen chores, you instead turn around to face his back. The boy keeps silent as though lost in his own thoughts but he eventually continues, "Will Nanamin ever come back?"
The question leaves your feet glued to the floor, your heart crumpling like used paper as you realize that Haru had been quick to notice Nanami's extended absence in his life.
"He will come back," you answer with a soft tone, even though you are not sure if there is any truth in your reply.
But how could you ever reveal to Haru about the terrible character harbored by the biological father he adores so greatly, about the heated argument you had with the other man who essentially treated Haru like his own son?
A soundless sigh parts your lips before you turn off the lights. "Sleep well."
There is a small shuffle as Haru repositions himself. A slow silence drags out in the room as though Haru intends to comment more, but he ultimately decides against it.
"Good night, Mommy," he says instead, uplifting your spirit for a brief moment.
Once you exit into the hallway, your eyes catch sight of your phone on the living room tabletop.
Noticing it light up from a notification, you instinctively rush to the device with unnecessary hope because it's not Nanami Kento's name.
It's Gojo's.
His text is nothing but an ask about Kyoto-related recommendations, and you scoff.
Gojo is a great actor.
To you, he's been very good about pretending that nothing has ever happened, deciding to drop the nuclear bomb of emotions on Nanami instead.
But before you warn him to leave you and your family alone for good, the smoldering anger that blazes within your chest urges you to call him.
When he picks up, the anger you had been trying hard to reign in goes unleashed.
"Explain yourself, Satoru."
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HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Please take care, and may 2022 be filled with more happiness!
