Post by Yuki on Apr 22, 2010 20:10:22 GMT -5
[[This is a background thread. Since there is no "Japan" section, I figured I'd stick just in the general Portland section. The purpose of this thread is to show a little bit of Yuki's past, as well as to provide some insight into why she is the way she is. It isn't flashback, since this particular memory is buried in the recesses of her mind. It takes place in Okinawa, Japan, about a decade before the present timeline, and is in a sense from child Yuki's point of view.]]
Something inside her felt like it was going to burst. As hard as she tried to contain the tears from welling up, they came. She knew she shouldn't cry. Mama was going to get mad. She shouldn't be crying anyway. She looked up through watered vision at her mother's back as she washed the dishes in the sink. The question had been asked. The conversation was over. But Yuki had not liked it's outcome. A hand went up to her eyes as she wiped the coming tears with the sleeve of her school uniform.
"...But Mama..." she choked in protest, trying her best not to cry.
"Now don't start, Yuki. My decision is final. And you're 12 now, stop acting like such a child."
Her mother's words only brought on more incoming tears. She wasn't even listening. She never listened. She didn't care about having fun. She didn't care about anything except whatever was important to her. It didn't matter that she had wanted to sleepover at Hitomi-chan's house. Hitomi-chan was one of the nicer girls at school, one of the few that actually tried to invite her places. But everytime, her mother never allowed it. Parties, going to play at the park, going out for ice cream, biking for fun--not once had Yuki ever done any of those. Mama always said there was something she had to do. It didn't matter much at first, but it was different now. Now, everyone else in her class had done all those things, and she hadn't done any. It wasn't fair.
"Mama, you never let me do anything!" she cried, advancing towards her. Her mother said nothing, and continued washing the dishes, ignoring her daughter.
"Mama, listen to me!"
Only the sound of running water and stifled sobs. Mama never listened. She didn't care, not really. But what did she know about her daughter? She knew nothing.
"All you care about is you and your stupid job!" Tears were now running freely down her cheeks. She didn't care. She wanted her mother to hear what she was saying, for once. "All I do is study and clean and train for martial arts! I'm already almost 13, and I've never even had a real friend. When we had recess in elementary school, I didn't even know what the games were, and when I played, everyone made fun of me. Everyone at school thinks I'm a freak!"
She paused to catch her breath through broken sobs. Mama was going to get angry. She wasn't supposed to yell back. This was one of the most important rules that Mama always got mad at when she didn't follow. It would mean timeout, which Yuki had learned was nothing like what everyone else's timeouts were. Hers were worse. She dreaded timeouts. She hated being locked in a dark room, and then hearing those voices. They came from people trapped in what she had identified as a pentagram. They would say terrible things, frightening, and something about them made her shiver in fear. They never got out from the border of the drawing. They just glared at her, sometimes smiled, and then after her time had been done, Mama would come in, recite something, and force her daughter to watch the people before her tremble and convulse, almost like they were having a seizure. But the black smoke was the worst. She didn't know how Mama did it. She was always too afraid to ask, but the first time she ever got a timeout, Mama had said that it had to do something with her connection to spirits. Those must have been bad ones. Even if they were, Yuki hated seeing them be in that sort of pain, and then watching helplessly as they disappeared.
Mama was a business woman. She was a doctor too, but most of the time, she traveled. She was always making Yuki work or train. It was all about her education, and training in various forms of martial arts. Her mother had said that one day, Yuki would need all those skills because of her "destiny," not only as heiress to the family temple, but also as the future spiritual medium between her people and the spirit realm. Yuki knew it was important to her mother, but sometimes, it was all she could think about. She always talked about how Yuki would make her father proud. Or would have. ...Father was dead. She never met him, but her mother talked about him like he was still alive.
Something inside her felt like it was going to burst. As hard as she tried to contain the tears from welling up, they came. She knew she shouldn't cry. Mama was going to get mad. She shouldn't be crying anyway. She looked up through watered vision at her mother's back as she washed the dishes in the sink. The question had been asked. The conversation was over. But Yuki had not liked it's outcome. A hand went up to her eyes as she wiped the coming tears with the sleeve of her school uniform.
"...But Mama..." she choked in protest, trying her best not to cry.
"Now don't start, Yuki. My decision is final. And you're 12 now, stop acting like such a child."
Her mother's words only brought on more incoming tears. She wasn't even listening. She never listened. She didn't care about having fun. She didn't care about anything except whatever was important to her. It didn't matter that she had wanted to sleepover at Hitomi-chan's house. Hitomi-chan was one of the nicer girls at school, one of the few that actually tried to invite her places. But everytime, her mother never allowed it. Parties, going to play at the park, going out for ice cream, biking for fun--not once had Yuki ever done any of those. Mama always said there was something she had to do. It didn't matter much at first, but it was different now. Now, everyone else in her class had done all those things, and she hadn't done any. It wasn't fair.
"Mama, you never let me do anything!" she cried, advancing towards her. Her mother said nothing, and continued washing the dishes, ignoring her daughter.
"Mama, listen to me!"
Only the sound of running water and stifled sobs. Mama never listened. She didn't care, not really. But what did she know about her daughter? She knew nothing.
"All you care about is you and your stupid job!" Tears were now running freely down her cheeks. She didn't care. She wanted her mother to hear what she was saying, for once. "All I do is study and clean and train for martial arts! I'm already almost 13, and I've never even had a real friend. When we had recess in elementary school, I didn't even know what the games were, and when I played, everyone made fun of me. Everyone at school thinks I'm a freak!"
She paused to catch her breath through broken sobs. Mama was going to get angry. She wasn't supposed to yell back. This was one of the most important rules that Mama always got mad at when she didn't follow. It would mean timeout, which Yuki had learned was nothing like what everyone else's timeouts were. Hers were worse. She dreaded timeouts. She hated being locked in a dark room, and then hearing those voices. They came from people trapped in what she had identified as a pentagram. They would say terrible things, frightening, and something about them made her shiver in fear. They never got out from the border of the drawing. They just glared at her, sometimes smiled, and then after her time had been done, Mama would come in, recite something, and force her daughter to watch the people before her tremble and convulse, almost like they were having a seizure. But the black smoke was the worst. She didn't know how Mama did it. She was always too afraid to ask, but the first time she ever got a timeout, Mama had said that it had to do something with her connection to spirits. Those must have been bad ones. Even if they were, Yuki hated seeing them be in that sort of pain, and then watching helplessly as they disappeared.
Mama was a business woman. She was a doctor too, but most of the time, she traveled. She was always making Yuki work or train. It was all about her education, and training in various forms of martial arts. Her mother had said that one day, Yuki would need all those skills because of her "destiny," not only as heiress to the family temple, but also as the future spiritual medium between her people and the spirit realm. Yuki knew it was important to her mother, but sometimes, it was all she could think about. She always talked about how Yuki would make her father proud. Or would have. ...Father was dead. She never met him, but her mother talked about him like he was still alive.
