Tell Me The Truth, Not A Lie (Mafia SemiShira)

Hope She's Alright

Kenjiro’s POV

“Come on, Mom, the bus is safe,” I tugged on my mother’s arm. The driver of the bright yellow bus was, thankfully, patient with us.

“How can you be so sure?” Mom questioned, her eyes wide with fear. 

“Because I’ve taken the bus so many times the bus driver knows my name, and I know his,” I responded, gripping my feet on the first step of the bus. 

“Don’t worry Shirabu-san,” the driver, Riku Kai, assured. “I promise I’m a gentle driver.”

Mom took a shaky step onto the bus, digging her nails into my skin. 

“Mom, I swear this is safe,” I groaned. 

After a few more shaky steps, and her nails drawing blood, we finally got onto the bus. 

“F-Front row, please,” Mom stammered. 

We sat down in the front seat with Mom next to the window. 

“Where to you two?” Kai asked with his usual friendly and warm smile.

“Just to town,” I smiled back. 

We were on our way. Mom just stared out the window the entire time, not saying a word. Other people got on and got dropped off. 

“Here we go,” Kai smiled as I dragged Mom out of the seat. 

“Thank you Kai-san,” I smiled, dropping a few yen in the locked tip box. Mom quickly got off. 

“Let’s go, Mom,” I sighed, grabbing her arm. 

It took a bit to find the mental hospital. I had no clue what I was looking for, and Mom wasn’t much help. She was terrible around a bunch of people. Her eyes were sharp and narrowed as she was biting her tongue. So she’s where I get my terrible attitude from, I thought. Finally, the building came into view. 

“Any second thoughts?” I wondered, stopping right in front of the door. 

“Sorta…” Mom muttered. 

“Well, it’s going to be alright, right?” I looked over to meet her gray eyes, anxiety was shining through. 

“Right,” she muttered with a small smile. 

We walked into the hospital. There were a few people in the waiting room with two receptionists at the front desk. Both had friendly smiles planted on their faces like a mask. 

“How can we help you today?” one of the receptionists asked in a smooth voice.

“Hi, I’m here to get her help,” I smiled. 

“What seems to be the problem?” the receptionist asked, an eyebrow cocked. 

“She has a bipolar disorder that hasn’t been treated in years, making her go crazy,” I explained as Mom’s anxious eyes darted back and forth. 

“Please wait while we phone for a doctor,” the receptionist stated. 

Mom and I sat down in two of the waiting chairs. Her leg was bouncing and bouncing fast. She was nervous, scared, worried. I grabbed her hands, holding them in mine. 

After a bit of waiting, a doctor came out, “Shirabu-san, please follow me.”

I lead Mom the same way the doctor was heading. Her grip tightened on my hands, her eyes darting faster.