𝐔𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐞 - ᴛᴏᴅᴏʀᴏᴋɪ ꜱʜᴏᴛᴏ

Chapter 17: Then Prove It

Ayla kept walking around the house, wishing her father was here to occupy the loneliness that was eating her up. Eito was frequently away from home, travelling the world for business. She pushed herself into her mother's old room—they kept this door closed as if they could trap the memories inside. But once she opened it, every recollection would race towards her like a slap in the face, drenching her in a cold sadness. Silence suffocates.

Then the girl awoke, her brain feeling shot through and coughing from the tail end of a cold. Panicking, her trembling fingers reached for her phone. The momentarily brightness blinded her for a moment, but her eyes adjusted. The familiar letters and numbers representing the date stared at her, causing nausea to swirl to life in the pit of her stomach.

Today was the day she hated most.

Today was the day she experienced the most grief.

Today was Cattleya's death anniversary.

After the outburst, Ayla finally realized the empty space beside her. Shoto wasn't here. She tilted her head to the side and her eyes captured a sticky note on his nightstand.

My father needed me in his agency.

In a way, she was disappointed. Not in Shoto, but in herself. Perhaps if she remembered what today was last night she might've had the chance to ask him to stay with her the whole day. But his father would still need him the today. Would that be selfish? Burying her head in her hands and groaning to keep herself from self-destructing, she sighed loudly and plopped down on his bed. "Oh well, there's nothing I can do now..."

* * * * *

Ayla took the bus to go to the supermarket to run some errands. On the seat in front sits a woman and child, the kid relaxes into her arms so fully it's like they're one organism, melted together. He has a look of contentment on his face, the kind Ayla wishes she could wear. The kid has everything he wants in life right there, bouncing up and down on this rickety bus with him.

"Lucky..." she whispered to herself and watched with envy before exiting at her stop.

The blonde quickly arrived at the supermarket and finished her shopping. Waiting in line to pay, Ayla saw two people ahead of her. She realized it's a kid picking out candy near the cashier with his mother crouching beside him. The woman in front of Ayla is showering her child in praise and Ayla knew it should warm her heart but there is a part of her that just doesn't care if he gets to choose his candy or if the mother selects it for him. For the fourth time the woman goes through the display but it's just too many options for a pre-schooler, he's simply overwhelmed. The line is now snaking back even further. Ayla wanted to tell the woman that the kid needs help to choose, or just a choice of two, but Ayla knee advice from strangers never goes down well.

Even against the music of the store her voice carries, "Oh cutie-pie, would you like mummy to tell you them again?"

The kid nodded and ran his hands over the wrappers just to hear them crinkle. In seconds Ayla's basket is on the floor and she's heading out the door. She had the choice of loosing her temper or her shopping; but since she shops here weekly it's better to keep the peace and a slice of her dignity.

* * * * *

Ayla trudged to her room. She closed and locked her door before collapsing on her bed. She refused to cry; matters this small aren't worth shedding tears over. She instead chose to stare at her ceiling. She realized that her mind was elsewhere; she felt her bed sheets beneath her, so real, so cold, yet she didn't feel connected to them. She didn't feel connected to reality. She refused to move, afraid that if she moved a muscle she'd break down. Outside her window, a bird perched itself on a branch and chirped. She wasn't sure if this set it off, but soon after the bird's action, the lump in her throat developed into a knot. Her lungs screamed for oxygen. She started gasping over and over, yelling, 'get ahold of yourself' in her head. A tear involuntarily slid down her cheek. She couldn't take it anymore. The sound of her sobs filled the air. She was shaking; she couldn't control her body anymore.