Lavender | Wakatoshi Ushijima

32 | Admit

It's 7 PM and almost the end of the week. I haven't talked to Wakatoshi or the team members and I try to talk to Kiyomi. All I needed was a good social battery recharge this weekend before I could be active again the next week and the one after.

It feels normal now, the part of me that collapsed. It was especially hard at the beginning of the week when the love I have for him came running back when I saw his familiar face. But now, each dig and stab doesn't hurt as bad as before. It's like I'm now familiar with where the pieces of glass are on the floor and stepping on them doesn't hurt as bad.

I think I've pushed myself away enough to sink and no longer feel with the same depth. Soon enough I might not feel anything. I noticed that on Wednesday night.

"Thank you for this meal," I said lightly, getting up from the dinner table. I wanted to escape that table, where Mother sat. I couldn't face her after those lies I told her, it was killing me knowing I said the same lie over and over again to go to Kiyomi's house.

I haven't had dinner with both of my parents for a while. Tonight, we're attending a funeral for the death of a family friend's elder, so we have to leave the house together. I went up to the counter and took my supplement of pills before going up to my room.

I began changing. It's been a while since I last looked at myself in the mirror. I thought.

I took off my baggy sweater and my sweatpants, my hair falling to my shoulders upon throwing it to the ground. I looked at myself in the mirror.

I immediately looked down. My thighs are separate, as I internally wished for them to be. They are slim and my legs are half their width. I looked at my hips, my skin sinking into the bones. I'm losing weight. I looked up, that's where the disappointment began. The flesh of my torso is barely there, it just disappeared off into the distance. My ribs are pushed out, their ridges evident. My arms are scrawny, it hurt to put my elbows on tables. It hurt when those bones pressed tightly against the skin when they were on the table. My skin is starting to hold onto my bones before it could slip off and away. My collarbones say the same thing. The shadows under my eyes were darker than I expected, I sleep a bit less than average, they're starting to appear because I'm exhausted in every way you can count. They're sinking into my skull, slowly. My face was starting to sink in too, my cheekbones sharp and the rosiness of my cheeks duller than usual. I used to assume all that writing was the reason why my hands are slimming. They are paper thin. Under the light of my bedroom, those impurities carved into my body were all I could see in a reflection.

Now is not the time to think. I thought, throwing that reflection away, Mother's voice ringing in my ears.

I pulled my kimono out of the closet. As I flared it out and pulled it over my shoulders and down the front, I overlapped it in the front. I wrapped the obi around my waist and pulled it tightly, it sat right above my hips. I tied the obi and made sure everything was in place before looking at myself in the mirror once more. Then, I began to comb my hair.

I sat by the window, under the eyes of the moon. Only the moon knew my struggles and my inner thoughts, it listened to me every night and soothed me like a child in the arms of its mother.

I put my hair back carefully with a clip. I put on some makeup. It's been a while since I last wore some.

I patted my face with a sponge, pressing the light-colored powder onto my skin. I put it all around my face and a bit down my neck. I covered my darkening eye bags with concealer. I looked paler, but prettier this way. I added a bit of mascara and pinkish-red lipstick in a rounded shape on my lips. Now, I look like the best version of myself. Before slipping into my shoes, I pulled a strand of hair down. I'm sure we'll look presentable, as a family. After all, the heir's image is what's most important. If I don't look my best, my family itself will look dimmer.