Chapter 11

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"Hey, Mom! I just wanna let you know that I'm doing alright. I know that you're probably really busy at the moment, but tell grandpa and grandma I say hello! I miss them a lot, and I wanna see them soon. Oh, and (F/f/n) dropped and broke her phone, so she wanted you to tell her mom that she's doing okay. Also, um, when you get the chance to, can you call me back tonight? I have a bit of a problem I need to discuss with you, but it's not urgent. I'll talk to you later, love you!" Your voice changes throughout the message, clicking the little red button to end the voicemail you had just left your mother.

It was Tuesday afternoon, the last night you were going to have to yourself before your mother arrived back from the United States. She had been messaging you this morning that her flight leaves at almost midnight, far later than she had been expecting, meaning she won't get back to the apartment until Wednesday morning. You would be at work at that time, so the fact that you couldn't see her come home saddened you. However, she had promised to come home with a few things from the U.S., along with many stories and pictures of heroes from over there that have emerged in your absence. It was nice to think that crime in the states could be going down with newly found heroes and different uses for their quirks.

Just as your mind began to wander into that of the fiction, a vibration on your bed pulled you back to reality. Your mother had texted you, saying that she'd be able to call in a few minutes, and to be prepared to answer the phone. With eyes beaming, you awaited the familiar ringtone. Once it had begun to play, you answered. "Hey Mom!" You casually say, wanting more than anything to hear your mother's voice.

There was a slight delay before the woman on the other end spoke. "Hello, (F/n)! I got your voicemail. So everything is going okay with you?" She asks, her tone almost worried.

Quietly, you laugh. "Yes, I'm okay, just lonely." You dramatically say, putting your hand over your heart.

A small chuckle can be heard through the speakers. "Well, I'm glad it's only that. What was the thing, the problem, that you wanted to discuss with me? You didn't get yourself into any trouble, now, did you?" Her voice was soft. It was obvious that she was smiling on the other end.

A sigh passed through your lips as your body fell backwards onto the pillow behind you. If she knew how you truly felt, she would make so many rules to restrict so much. "No, no, I promise it's nothing like that. It's kinda not exactly my problem." Your lie comes out a little raggedy. "So, (F/n) likes this guy, right?" Your voice comes out flat. "She keeps coming to me for advice, like I know what to do. So, uh, what do you do when you like a guy?"

Your mother was silent for a moment, then chuckled. "So this is what the problem is? Your friend likes some knucklehead and wants advice? Well, tell her not to waste her breath." The tone is harsh, almost aggressive.

"Mom, I'm serious-" No time to finish the sentence was given.

"And you think I'm not? A man will do her nothing but harm, so she can tell that boy to stick it. She should be focusing on her job and schooling, anyways." The woman's tone was different than it had been before. She seemed almost tired.

With a sigh, you nod and look up at the ceiling, suddenly feeling hopeless. You had wanted to say so much to her, a lot of things being negative and can render your attitude as rude. Though, the thought soon left your mind, not wanting to provoke it. A thought popped into your head, however. "Mom, is this about Dad?" You ask, swallowing hard as regret passed over you.

There is a quiet commotion on the other end, as if she had moved the phone from her face. "Never, ever will you speak of your father. Not with me, not with anyone, do you understand?"

You could hear that her jaw was tight, not being able to keep the venom and hatred out of her voice. The sound scared you. "Alright, sorry." Is all you could muster, a familiar lump bouncing in your throat.

"honesty and grace" (Mezo Shoji X Reader)Where stories live. Discover now