The Girl by the Sea (Countryhumans AU)

Misconceptions or Not?

Written: February 1, 2024

I was listening to the music above while writing this. Also, TW for suicidal thoughts

The rest of the night was somewhat peaceful. Sunlight bursted into my room and I stirred awake. I sat up in bed, gazing out the window. A faint grin painted my face as I watched the sparking of the ocean. I hop out of bed and run to brush my teeth. When I came downstairs, Japan was waiting, concern etched across her face. She's either worried about passing her midterm exams in medical school, or is worried about my mental health.

"Okinawa," Japan starts, her gaze fixed on me, concern etched on her face. "We need to talk. I've noticed some concerning behavior, and I want to make sure you're okay."

I take a seat, the air heavy with unspoken questions. Japan's eyes never waver from mine, and I feel the weight of her worry pressing on me, urging me to open up.

"I'm okay, really." I respond with a perceptible grin. Japan's nails dig into her palm out of anxiety. Japan's worry deepens, her eyes searching mine for any sign of vulnerability.

"Oki, please be honest with me. I've been practicing filling out mental health forms for patients, and I see signs in you. You've been distant, quiet, and it leads to exhibiting signs of a suicidal mindset. Is there something you're not telling me?"

I try to maintain my grin, brushing off her concerns. "It's just stress, you know? School, life, it can be overwhelming, but I've got it under control."

Japan leans forward, her voice soft but firm, "Oki, I care about you. We all do. You don't have to face everything alone. If something's bothering you, please let me help."

The vulnerability in her eyes stirs something within me, a desire to share the burden I've carried alone for too long. Yet, the fear of judgment and the weight of expectations hold me back.

"I'm just stressed about tests." I shrug, munching on some seaweed.

"Oki, my friend is a psychology major. I told him about you and have the same suspicions." She takes my hand. "I'm afraid of losing you."

Her words resonate, echoing the underlying concern that has quietly seeped into the corners of my life. I feel a lump forming in my throat, the weight of Japan's worry settling heavily.

"I don't want you to worry," I murmur, squeezing her hand in return. "I'll be fine. It's just a rough patch. You have your exams to focus on; don't let my issues distract you."

Japan's gaze doesn't waver. "Oki, you're not a distraction. You're my only sister, and I care about you. Let me help, even if it's just by listening."

I sigh, torn between the comfort of opening up and the fear of exposing my vulnerabilities. The internal struggle continues as Japan awaits my response, her concern etched into every line of her expression.

"Do you know how Mom died?" Japan asks articulately, her voice shaking. I shake my head. Tears welling in her eyes, Japan answers, "She killed herself, Okinawa." (I wonder why...) The words come as a punch in my stomach. Japan holds onto the last fiber of her sanity and hugs me to her chest. "I don't want to lose you like we lost her."

The weight of Japan's revelation hangs in the air, a somber truth that casts a shadow over our shared vulnerability. I find myself engulfed in a mix of emotions, from shock to a profound understanding of the gravity of the situation.

"I had no idea," I whisper, my voice caught between the pain of the revelation and the heaviness of my own struggles. Japan's embrace tightens, and I feel the warmth of her tears against my shoulder.