TW: Emotional Abuse, Referenced Suicide, Mentions of Physical Abuse/Mental Abuse, referenced death.

Ouma's POV:

The moon was struck from the sky.

The woods was drowned in darkness, the ebony shadows clouded my eyes yet felt so familiar. Almost as if an old friend had come back to me, it was hard to know whether or not to hate that familiarity as I walked through the woods. Roots threatened to take hold of me, and the woods was a stoic silence as if the whispers themselves had somehow fallen to the dark woods or left to search reverently for the moon.

The woods for once didn't seem to try and swallow me whole but instead ignored me as if I wasn't even worthy of torment anymore. It left me empty, a vicious part of me almost wanted for it to lash out towards me, to give me any sort of sensation. The woods didn't answer my silent plea.

The stars were also missing from the sky as if stolen away by some phantom thief and I mourned their absence even more than the moon. Because even on those rare nights without the moon the stars were always there, even if faintly. It was a heinous crime to steal them away from the sky, but who would even try and find them here?

I'm alone.

"You always will be alone."

I froze in place as I turned around. A strange voice echoed from the treeline, it had responded to my thoughts as I searched like a maniac, trying to find whoever had heard me and saw me but was left with only the pitch darkness. 

"Hello?" I called out, hoping for a response, my heart was pounding as it fell into a rising crescendo, "is anyone out there? Please...please answer me" I yelled into the woods, into the void.

A song of laughter erupted from the trees, and that laughter grew in power and intensity, it was like a siren call as I quickly began running directionless as my only purpose was to find that voice and whoever it belonged to. To hold them tight and beg them not to leave me again to the isolation and fear that had plagued me, as the tree line disappeared I barely registered the cold rush of the wind and the slight scent of salt.

Fear.

Cold oppressive fear.

That was what I felt as my weight gave away to the open sky, and my body plummeted towards the spiked shores below.

~-~-~-~

The days seem to melt into one another.

There was nothing to distinct them. It was always that simple routine and checkups, the kind voice the sub...the kind voice my father used, the meals were always the same with no exception. It almost made me miss my grandmother's house at times, at least then I could remember whether it had been a week or three days since I arrived. At least I knew what day it was, but now...

I didn't know if it was day or night. 

If it was still autumn as I had left, or maybe we were in spring by now.

I don't know anything...and that's nice. Those concerns were stressful but maybe I don't need to know what's going on right now. Maybe all I need to think of is the single day. It worked before, didn't it? What future would have been waiting for me? I didn't have any talents, or the grades to get into college or get a job.

Momota had talents, he had intelligence even if it used to be buried under his inspirational speeches to me. I'm the one who should be fighting for my life right now, not him. I can't make a difference in this world, I can't change anything or add anything. Hell, I can't even move with the flow of the world...

But selfishly I did want to go outside.

Selfishly I wanted to know what happened to Haruakwa and Momota, whether anyone was even looking for me after all these months or did they think I abandoned them as well. Maybe I had because I stopped trying to fight. Don't know why I tried, because I never once won. I probably have a few more scars that can testify for that by now.

So why...

The door opened, its hinges tried to protest but like always fell to deaf ears as my father reached my side. I held my hands tighter in my palms, the bed creaking with his added weight, as he gave me a small pat on the back. The force though made it hurt a little. "Kokichi" he greeted calmly, yet his voice always seemed to be lacking something.

'Good morning' I signed, he didn't say anything for a bit, before I felt another likely forced pat on the back. "Is it a bad day?" he asked, I shrugged as I felt a bowl being offered to me as I gratefully took it along with a spoon. "Miso" my father explained, he seemed to treat it as something special when I'm sure the only thing that might change is the bowl. And as long as it was the same shape and size, I wouldn't be able to tell otherwise for that.

"You should have been able to see the seasons changing, did you know in the western countries the season changes are different? Some countries even have downpours of rain in the winter or blizzards. Sometimes I find it fascinating the small nuances of the world, when I was your age I didn't see this. I still struggle too at times, it makes the world all the more important to preserve for the day you will see what I see" my father monologues. But for the first time, his voice did have true wonder and light, he actually seemed to have almost a childlike energy as he described his thoughts. 

It made those thoughts harder to tune out.

'Riko wanted to go to South Korea, she was in love with the idols there' I told him, and instantly winced once realizing rather than saying 'a friend' I instead had mentioned Riko. If anything was going to prove I became stupid over the years, then this was definitely an example. 

All my father did was hum, it was a pleasant sound that made everything worse. He should hate himself, tear himself apart at night, every single time second that Riko didn't get to see the moon or the sun, to see the sky one last time he should be drowning.

And where does that leave me?

The accomplice, but you're already serving your sentence.

I laughed at the argument, for once maybe I could agree. My father gently prodded me with his elbow, as the soup had turned cold. I braced myself for the slightly unpleasant taste, the tofu had even gone slightly mushy. However, it left me filling a tiny bit fuller regardless, as my stomach seemed to not be able to take much food these days. Something about hunger strikes or brief meals made the stomach slowly despise its body's owner.

"Most young girls at her age were, believe me, I have been a substitute for a long time," my father told me, his voice sounded amused by this. "She was the girl with pigtails, wasn't she?" the sub asked with slight curiosity. Anger begged to be released with the simple description, but I nodded.

'She used to get in trouble with you for the makeup she would wear, and the accessories. She was so proud of them...' I told him, "oh I remember her now...she was such a contradiction. A kind and sweet girl, yet the staff told me of her relations with the male student body...she was a tough call to make. I made a mistake with her" he admitted.

'A mistake?' I asked, I hope he wouldn't notice the deep melancholy in my face, yet the burning hope that maybe this meant he could change. Maybe he will change, because if he never will go to jail then...then at least he won't do anything anymore...

Maybe he can turn himself in if he is guilty.

My father gripped my hands and held them tightly, they were tough and scarred yet full of warmth as he held them as if he let go for a second he would never be able to again.

"It was a mistake killing her. It was a mistake hurting my own child, and it was a mistake to not realize what I had accepted that day when I was assigned. At the time, my job and purpose blinded me to you. There's nothing more I can do though but help you. I cannot revive the dead, as I know you wish I could. I cannot bring you the bodies of every man or woman who ordered your friend's demise, because they still hold the reins. I cannot bring you death, because even for all the time I spent apart from you-you're still my child" my father told me.

You're still my child.

NO! "I don't w-want to be your c-child-I never wanted to be your child!" I screamed, my breath became labored as I felt myself folding in gripping onto my hair in a desperate attempt to stabilize "you butchered them, you butchered the people I love, I hate you! You're a monster!  BECAUSE EVEN IF THEY WERE MY FRIENDS YOU STILL MURDERED THEM AND MADE ME LISTEN!" I screeched.

His child

Led to the slaughter

Murderer

Like father like son

"Kokichi-" My father tried to say, his voice was gentle like it always was and that only lighted my anger more, "NO! NO! NO-do you know what's the worst part...? The fact I have to know now that I'm related to you...that my mother somehow once loved someone like you? That I'm just as disgusting as you and maybe that's why I'm here...because everyone else knows that too. If you ever had an ounce of kindness in you, just let me die. Because that is much kinder than having to know who you are to me" I sobbed.

"You don't mean that not truly" my father reasoned, a calm and even tone. I shook my head, "I do...I hate you...I hate you with every part of my body..." I muttered, my throat was screaming in retaliation with every word and my voice came out in dry and raspy gasps making me wince. 

"You have your right to hate me, but you weren't addressing that to me. We both know who you truly hate, and unless you admit it to me right now you won't ever find peace. Even if I died in front of you or by your own hands, you wouldn't find any happiness because the one you hate most of all will still be alive" my father argued, as he reached and took my hands forcing them away from my hair. "You...it's always been you..." I mumbled, though my voice was losing strength as I finally felt something in my hand...

Hair.

I laughed dryly, I always thought that was an expression but it seems you really can tear your own hair out. 'It's you, always will be you...' I repeated in vain, it was so true I knew it was. I despised this man with every limb in my body, and the dark parts of my mind did want him to suffer. It wanted him to be tortured every night...but that area also demanded more than just him. "Who son, who do you hate most of all?" my father asked with a cold sincerity. 

'Myself' I admitted with bitter resentment.

"How do you feel now?" my father asked, his tone sounded hopeful as I shrugged. 'Nothing, tired I guess' I answered as my father wrapped an arm around me. I flinched at the touch, and it just made his grip tighter as if trying to ground me. 'Did you ever care about her?' I asked, it was likely a mistake but I needed to know.

"Who?" my father asked, I sighed, "my mother," I asked again hoping my neediness wasn't noticeable. "Did she ever talk about me?" my father asked, I shook my head. 'Most of what I knew about you growing up was google and some guess work' I lied. "Don't lie, your mother has done enough of that" he scolded.

'What do you mean?' I questioned, "what did she tell you?" he fired back. I sighed, giving in, 'she said that meeting you was the worst mistake of her life. I think she was probably right' I answered. "I could say the same thing about her at times, other times I find that leaving her at all was the worst mistake I made." my father answered.

"She was such a quiet girl when I first met her, your mother looked exactly like you...yet you were never once like you though Kokichi. You spread joy, you are more clever in your tiny thumb than she ever had in an entire lifetime. You were charming, and she was meek. Yet back then, she had a small light inside of her, a warmth that I fell in love with. Back then she was kind Kokichi, a kind woman despite all her misguided attempts to navigate the world around her.

"She was young, and I was naive. She was an abused child, and I thought I could save her from the world she lived in. But I didn't realize that the amount of darkness that surrounded her life bled into her heart and mind, it twisted her inside out and destroyed that woman, and by the time I realized too late she was pregnant. I nearly left her then, because my parents never accepted her in the first place much less when they heard about you. They offered me a chance to split from her, to offer her all the child support she would need to keep quiet, but I still believed we could make it work. 

"She dropped out of school, she gave up on herself when she heard of you. She hated me for what I did to her and fell into a deep depression that I could never seem to help her with. But you needed me still. So I stayed in school in hopes of finding a job, of being able to support the two of you, but your mother gave up on me being able to help her. So she left, she left in the middle of the school day without a word, or a number to call her by. I used to spend hours just blindly searching for the two of you, I can't tell you how much I cried when I thought my baby was going to be born and raised without knowing who his father was, not even being able to know your name.

"I managed to find her, but by then you were a month old. You were so tiny back then, and your mother...you made her smile. She was the one who brought me back, asking if I was willing to give it one more try with her. I accepted and we lived there together, we even got married did you know? Your mother tried to dress you in a little suit but you kept crying whenever she did. You were wearing a pair of dinosaur pajamas on our wedding day, but back then she loved you even more for that. I thought you were strong-willed, and that would carry you through life.

"But she was faking her happiness, and I was too blind. She clung to you, she leeched off you for any grasp of happiness. If one bad thing happened to you she would waste away, and I couldn't stop her parasitic behavior towards you. She lashed out at me for when I spent too much time with you, or when I tried to take you to parks. We began fighting again, and that's when I realized the girl I first loved was long dead.

"But I couldn't leave you with her, so I stayed. For far too long, I should've taken you in my arms and ran just like she did. But I didn't, and because of that, I lost you. When you were four, she finally gave me my scar. The two of us were fighting, and it turned physical...it was an accident. I hurt her by accident, and in retaliation, she gave me my eye scar, and I ran. I wanted to give her time to cool off, but she instead filed a restraining order and I was banned from seeing you for the rest of your childhood. Your mother knew I begged her on our court day to reconsider but she refused, she smiled when she realized the pain she caused.

"I'm sorry I left you with her, I'm sorry she fed you lies about me, and more than ever I'm sorry I let you end up just like your mother in the end." My father apologized, for once his voice was choking up as he seemed to be holding back sobs.

and yet...

'Mom wasn't perfect, but I can't see her doing what you said she did. She was nice when I was young, I still remember back when she was better...before alcohol and cigarettes. She was fine, she was smiling and she was clean.' I argued, trying to force back the blurred memories. "She wasn't, I think your mind is choosing to handpick the moments she seemed that way to you. But I assure you, she was always abusing you Kokichi, even before you could walk she abused you and she abused me. I'm sorry" he apologized.

She loved me once...she probably loved me at least once in her life didn't she...?

But...she died. She died, so maybe I'm the one trying to place her in a better light and see her ass greater than she was. Because for every time she defended me she screamed at me also didn't she? She said she regretted meeting my father...and maybe she truly did mean it that she regretted having me as well. Maybe she never did love me...

Maybe I was always a stupid child.

Cause he's been honest right? He's never once denied what he did...but...

"Don't lie, I know you got that from me, but don't lie to yourself" my father said in vain to comfort me.

Liar.

Liar?

LIAR

How? How did you forget what he always does? He lied to the class, he lied to you back then-and you never could tell! You call yourself the king of lies but that was a lie in itself! Because this man could walk as a SERIAL KILLER and you couldn't even tell till you were on the chopping block! 

How do we know he still isn't lying? How do I know if any of that was true? Why? Why does everyone keep lying and stretching and cheating me? Why can't anything simply just be true?

"Kokichi, Kokichi calm down" 

I was wrong.

I was always wrong.

Always have been and always-

"What are three things you can hear?" my father asked, "t-the bed, air-con..." I answered as my mind fumbled for answers, "that's good, you're doing good. What can you smell?" he asked. "The miso, the deodorant..." I answered as the world resettled itself.  'I'm sorry' I apologized, "you're forgiven, but Kokichi do you see why I said what I did?" he asked, his voice seem to plead with me to understand him.

...

"Kokichi, if I could I would give you the world. But I can't, not yet at least. However, I can give you the chance to move forward, if you can trust in me" my father told me hesitantly. "A chance for you to move forward, do you want that?" he asked.

What if he's lying? Will, I even know...but what if he is being honest? It doesn't...it doesn't hurt to at least hear them out...so then I know for sure what I'm saying no to.

...'what are you offering to me?' I inquired with slight hesitation. 

"Your legs. I know a surgeon, and he can perform a procedure that could bring you back the use of your leg, you can walk freely again" my father offered. Legs. I overestimated the temptation of such an offer, to be able to move and walk...that was more than I ever could imagine.

"It makes sense to question it, I know you're worried and it's smart to worry. So whatever answer you give, I'm proud of you" my father praised. I hated how a part of me wanted to hear that. I hated that made it harder to say no when it should have.

So why not say yes?