blackbox | kirishima eijirou

07 | serein weekends

Saturdays are the worst.

People would look forward to days like this after a long week of endless stress from meaningless papers and forgotten words. They wake up in the sunny morning with a sleepy smile on their faces, brush their teeth until it is freshly white and minty, have a delightful family breakfast and spend a good few hours going on an adventure with their loved ones with the glow gleaming in their hearts.

Teens would hang out with their friends at the bowling alley where they could brag about who'd the better bowler and bet the loser to pay for their meals after a long day of fun and laughter. Some would sleep in for a few hours until noon to make up the times they wasted their energy on the things they shouldn't be doing.

Normally, people would wake up with a sigh of relief leaving their lips, glad that they finally get to relax and do whatever they want. They would wake up with lively birds chirping through the windows, greeting our somnolent souls.

But like Sakura thinks, Saturdays are the worst.

Because even before the moment her hazelnut eyes could see the light that puts a smile on one's faces, she already knew how her day would be like. She already felt the deep void in her chest the moment she heard the same ringing silence that made her head feel like it was going to rupture.

Saturdays were another meaningless day for her besides Sundays. She had to spend every eternity having misfortunes thrown in her way as she walk down the lonely road deserted by everything she used to have. Just thinking about it makes her wish that the day would be over when it hasn't even started.

Sakura remembers she used to spend Saturdays going out to the cliff near the beach with her parents. Mother would make some of her favourite foods like chocolate cakes and onigiri and put them in a picnic basket. Father would bring the kite both of them would play while mother would constantly take pictures of them. It was something that was real she had back then, something that made her cackle now that she think about it—how years later so many misunderstandings appeared, and instead of solving their own problems, they'd take it out on the poor girl for no apparent reason. And now they see her as a tool and use her whenever they feel like it.

She was still a kid in elementary when the life she lived in was full of happy make-beliefs and stupid promises about getting what she wanted for her birthday. She remembers she wanted to get a new skateboard since her old one broke in half when she attempted a new trick she'd been learning. She was twelve at that time. Her mother was worried she'd get critically injured while her father didn't mind since he used to say, "Follow your dreams no matter what it takes."

But these days, every time she looks at his face, it's like he said it in a different meaning, "I don't care."

A low chuckle left her lips at the woeful memories turned into vain as she looked up at the barren white ceiling, ignoring the wet patches that had formed on either side of the pillow as she shifted into a more comfortable position.

Speaking of the devil, the door slowly creaked open, revealing her father peeking from the door.

"Sakura, your mum and I are going to another meeting later. If you need anything just give us a call. I left some money on the counter in case you get hungry," he said as she looked at him from the corner of her eye.

"Yeah, sure," Sakura muttered.

"Before I forget," he placed a paper on the clothes drawer right by the door. "Mum needs you to go to the supermarket to buy some groceries."

She flickered her gaze back to the ceiling. "Okay, sure. Anything else?"

"No. That's all. See you later, kiddo." And then he finally closed the door as she started to feel the same throb in her chest.