Over the Dead Sea, keepin' you company
Thinkin', "I'm not afraid of you now"
I'm not afraid of you now

Lettin' my eyes close, sheddin' my soft clothes
Wind blows, wind that howls like a hound
Wind that laughs like a clown

Mystery of lack, stabbing stars through my back
Forwards, beckon, rebound
Forwards, beckon, rebound

Virtual bedroom, rise like a full moon
Show me pictures that hang in your house
Pictures that hang in your mouth

Candescent insects, crosses and fishnets
I have nothin' to pray now
Nothin' to pray now

Mystery of lack, stabbing stars through my back
Forwards, beckon, rebound
Forwards, beckon, rebound

Pullin' your face close, wanting the inmost
Show me I'm not afraid of you now
I'm not afraid of you now

Villain and violent, infant and innocent
Baby, both arms cradle you now
Both arms cradle you now

Mystery of lack, stabbing stars through my back
Forwards, beckon, rebound
Forwards, beckon, rebound
Forwards, beckon, rebound

Ken fell asleep that night with the last of their tears dripping onto the pillow. They had been praying silently for what felt like hours, praying to a god whose existence they had doubted on and off for years. As soon as they closed their eyes, it seemed, they felt their mother gently running her thumb over their brow.

"Morning, sweetheart."

"Mmgh," Ken stirred, struggling to open their eyes. There was Himeko, sitting on the side of the bed, trying to soothe them.

"Chinatsu told me about what happened last night before she went to class." she said softly.

Immediately, Ken's vision began to blur. They looked over at the digital clock on their bedside table: 10:53. Slowly, everything began to come back to them.

"I'm scared, Mama," Ken whimpered like a five-year-old. They felt ashamed, still needing comfort from their mother. But then again, that's what mothers are for, they supposed.

"I know," Himeko replied. "I know. But everything'll be okay."

Ken grunted as they sat up, rising to greet the day as sunlight pooled in from the window. Their long hair hung in front of their face.

"How 'bout I make your favorite breakfast?" Himeko suggested, smiling warmly.

On cue, Ken felt their stomach growl. They nodded, and Himeko left the room after pressing a kiss against their forehead. Immediately, Ken reached for their phone, anxiety rising within them. They sent Daigo a text.

Good morning. Sorry I didn't text you sooner, I slept in.

Ken waited and waited, eyes glued to the phone. Mere minutes felt like an eternity, but they didn't want to leave their bed until Daigo texted them back. Two minutes . . . five minutes . . . eight minutes . . .

Ping!

Good morning

Ken let out a wheezy breath that they didn't even know they were holding in. They were so relieved that they almost began to laugh, as their eyes started to tear up.

"Thank you, Jesus," Ken whispered raggedly. Their phone ping'ed again.

Can I come over?

Ken sniffled as their fingers flew across the screen: Sure, ofc.

At last, Ken got up and stretched their back and arms. They yanked a T-shirt over their head and pulled on a pair of corduroy pants. They wiped the tears away from their eyes as they headed to the hall bathroom to brush their teeth, then their hair. As they were pulling their hairbrush through their long black mane, they heard the front doorbell ring, and they nearly jumped out of their skin. Had Daigo already left his apartment when he sent Ken that text?

"I got it!" Ken called to their mom as they slammed the bathroom vanity drawer shut. They raced down the hallway, their socks sliding on the polished wooden floor. From the kitchen, they could smell the familiar savory whiff of tamagoyaki, their favorite breakfast.

Ken unlocked the front door with shaking hands and threw it open to see Daigo standing there. They didn't think twice before grabbing him and scooping him into their arms, as though they hadn't seen him in a lifetime. A lump formed in their throat as they held him tighter than ever before.

"Hey, Ken," Daigo greeted them as he hugged them back. His voice carried so much regret.

Ken's lower lip trembled as they took in Daigo's familiar scent.

"I thought I'd lost you, too," they squeaked under their breath, relief flooding through their parched mind like a cool stream.

Daigo took a shaky deep breath, grasping Ken a little tighter.

"I'm so sorry I scared you." he said.

Ken began to tremble all over. Just as they were about to burst into tears, they heard their mother calling to both of them from the kitchen.

"C'mon in, Daigo! I made breakfast; feel free to help yourself!" She sounded just as relieved as Ken.

At last, Ken pulled away and led Daigo inside, closing and locking the front door. They turned to Daigo again . . . and their stomach dropped. There was a fresh bruise splattered against the side of his face.

"W-what happened?" Ken asked worriedly.

Daigo raised a hand to his face and sighed. Alerted by her concerned child, Himeko left the kitchen and approached the two young adults. When she saw Daigo's bruise, a shadow seemed to cast itself over her face. Dozens of unpleasant childhood memories flooded back to her.

"Care to explain, dear?" she asked breathily.

Moments later, Daigo, Ken, and Himeko were all sitting around the table, digging into their breakfast. Ken waited impatiently for Daigo to start talking. Daigo swallowed.

"I'm assuming you know about last night's incident, Mrs. Midori?" Daigo asked.

Himeko nodded, eager to hear what he had to say. Daigo was avoiding the eyes of both people watching him, stirring his food around his plate with his chopsticks.

"Well . . . my mom found my note."

Ken's face dropped. Oh.

"She woke me up about an hour ago," Daigo went on. "She started yelling at me, calling me selfish and all that shit. She, uh . . . she slapped me." His voice cracked halfway through that last sentence.

Ken heard Himeko put down her chopsticks. They glanced over at her to find her elbows rested on the table, her face buried in her hands. She sighed deeply, frustrated beyond belief.

"Everything okay?" Ken asked her.

Himeko lifted her face from her hands, looking Daigo in the eye.

"I want you to stay with us for a while." she told him.

"No, I-I can't do that - "

"You have been let down, Daigo." Himeko said firmly yet slowly, so he would catch every word. Her eyes blazed with emotion. "I'm not gonna stand idly by while you go through way more pain than you need to."

Ken noticed Daigo's shoulders shake ever so slightly.

"Thank you," he mumbled.

"You're welcome." Himeko stood up from her chair and went to put her shoes on.

"Where're you going?" Ken asked her. They couldn't help but worry.

"To talk some goddamn sense into Tsakana," Himeko responded. "Daigo, I want you to pack an overnight bag while I give her a piece of my mind."

"Yes, ma'am." Daigo obediently rose from his seat and went to go put his shoes back on. Ken didn't need to think twice before doing the same.

The elevator ride up to floor eleven was completely, uncomfortably silent. Ken could almost feel the anger coming off of their mother in waves: it was unnerving to see her so outraged. Daigo unlocked the front door to his apartment, and the three of them shuffled in. Tsakana was sitting on the couch, massaging her temples as though she had a headache.

"Oh - h-hi, Himeko." Her eyes were bloodshot, her face stained with tear tracks. She couldn't even look at her child, seeming too ashamed to do so after what she had done.

"Tsakana," Himeko greeted her curtly, crossing her arms.

Daigo nodded for Ken to follow him to his overly cluttered room, and the two of them started quickly packing Daigo an overnight bag. From down the hall, Ken could hear what sounded like the most tensely quiet confrontation in history.

"You look fucking terrified," Daigo whispered to Ken as he tossed an outfit into his duffle bag.

"I've rarely ever seen her that angry," Ken replied, eyes as wide as saucers.

Ken made sure to hurry to the bathroom and pack Daigo some toiletries - and his pills - before they darted out. Before Daigo shut the front door behind them, Ken heard Tsakana start to yell. Their instincts told them to sprint inside and defend their mother, but they knew she had it handled: she was a woman made of iron.

"C'mon, let's go home," Ken encouraged their friend.