To keep this story short, my African American Mom married a rich Japanese man.
"So? What do you think?" She stretched out her arms in front of our new house.
This sort of perfectly fenced house with the family name mounted above the mailbox, I had seen these sort of middle-class homes a dozen times in anime.
It was a surreal feeling.
Something that belonged in a cartoon was right in front of me.
"Are we... really living here?" Maybe it's because of the upscale wedding or the fact that her relationships never came this far but it felt as if I was dreaming.
Instead of answering Mom lead the way into our completely empty house and introduced me to where my bedroom would be.
It would seem... she already planned everything with Mr. Step-Father (or Step-Father-san, if you will, to be honest, I forgot his name already), the purpose for each and every room had already been decided.
As I stood there, I could feel Mom watching me, waiting for a reaction.
But I ignored her on purpose. I slid open the door to my empty closet.
"Well? Do you like it?"
This room was slightly longer than my room back in Texas, which was somewhat surprising, considering the fact that Asian homes are known for being small due to land size.
I couldn't exactly call this place a shoebox. . . more like a slice of cornbread.
My room back in texas was an ice cube.
So it's a major improvement. But then again, rooms always look big until you move in furniture.
Perhaps it's too soon to rejoice.
I studied the ashwood floorboards, I love ashwood. Though I doubt Mother knew this. Having a house with a fence that also outlined the property was also a plus. It's always been a fantasy of mine.
Yes, just a fantasy.
As I took it all in, I couldn't help wondering how long this all would last, being able to stay in this room, the marriage... It's a miracle Mom even made it down the aisle, to be honest, and it's not of lack on her part.
Mom continued to watch me, I deliberately delayed my response by approaching the window.
Was this my fault?
Ever since we fought over my diary entry she found, she's begun to show interest in me all of a sudden.
It's sort of laughable.
Who does she think she is Santa? A Genie? Who told her to sacrifice herself for the sake of my own? Does she expect me to be grateful? Me? Why should I?
Who told her to give birth to me?
Mothers... they are... fascinating creatures. There are so many different types of Mothers out there, and up till then I always thought mine was the typical mom that wasn't ready, emotionally starved of love, seeking thrills and dates.
"Mar, mar?" Mom tried.
But... we're here. We're here now. I thought something like it would be impossible, so even though I don't want to admit it, I'm feeling quite touched.
In a literal sense. It feels as if I don't know this woman. It feels as if I don't know myself.
"Mara..."
I couldn't help feeling responsible for the future headache this person, Step-Father-san was liable to but then again I also felt no sympathy.
It's as my spirit animal, Ice Queen, Elza would say.
"You can't marry a man, you just met."
Same applies to men.
Skeptical, scared, and excited. Those feelings changed the forecast for my emotions of the day, not even I knew the outcome.
Will it be Sensitivity with mostly mood swings, or Indifference with an occasional chance of sass?
I didn't know what I was feeling.
Mom joined my side.
This marriage was like a cheap inflatable bouncy house, stab it with one tack and it's over.
So, even though some part of me was losing it on the inside. I refused to process any of it.
"The neighborhood's nice and quiet don't you think?" Mom attempted to hear my thoughts once more and continued. "Papa said, the movers will bring the rest of our belongings tomorrow."
Papa.
Hearing it was akin to hearing nails scraped against the chalkboard of my very soul.
In some anime, I've seen anime parents refer to their partners as such, especially so when their child is very young, so it's not that weird and comes off as cute.
But this isn't one of those things.
I realized that I was mistaken. Mom didn't sacrifice herself, no, that would be completely out of character to do such a thing! She uprooted my life for her own benefit!
Papa? PAPA?!
"Could you... not call your new husband Papa?" I ask my eyes glued on the wall in front of me as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. It was all I could do to keep it together to resist the urge for screaming like a disabled person, unable to fully express their emotions.
Not even I could quite place why but it felt like something that had seeped in was trickling out through a hole in the back of my subconscious. Like I might cry, even though I'm not sad. I'm not. Really.
"Could you not call Papa my "new husband" ?" She asked in response.
Crck.
We stared sternly at each other before Mom sighed, with finality in her voice she said, "I'm... not going to do this with you today okay? We're starting a new chapter in our lives. Let's try to make the most of it okay? I'm going to check out the salon."
Mom is a licensed cosmetologist, thanks to step-Father-san she was able to procure and design a salon nearby our neighborhood without worrying too much. That's probably the only thing I was sincerely happy for her, for.
But my heart felt stuffy. So I simply watched her back turn the corner.
Long after she's gone, a humph escapes my chest, and the tears sting my eyes but I blink those little girls back, take a breath and say,
"The cold never bothered me anyway."
I repeated it back to myself over and over.
I brought up my suitcase from downstairs.
Since I outgrew my old twin bed back in Texas, we purchased a new double-sized bed here.
Building the skeleton alone in peace and silence in Mom's absence improved my mood.
As I positioned the frame adjacent to the window, I felt a gaze on me.
Outside my window was the house next door. The house shape was similar to ours so it also had a window facing mine at the same level.
Standing there on the other side was a skinny Japanese boy.
As soon as I noticed him he stiffened, then shyly smiled, even his wave was awkward. The one where you quickly pump the hair with your hand so it looks like it's vibrating...
The hell, I'm criticizing it but I honestly couldn't do much better.
I wasn't in the right mood to laugh at him or myself so I just stared.
His hair was all over the place, seeing him in his tanktop I thought to myself that he must've just rolled out of bed.
But wasn't it the afternoon already?
Well, it's not as if I couldn't relate. I've done the same before... who am I to judge him?
The boy says something but of course I can't hear him with my window closed so I slide it open.
"Eto....hi." He tried in English.
I nodded in greeting. "Hello."
His smile stretched, and I won't lie, for a second I found it endearing.
Even though there are so many anime genres out there like hentai, incest and lolicons... Japanese people themselves seemed so pure. I suppose the same could be said about my own race.
The first that comes to mind, would always be drugs, hip hop, gun violence, and twerking scantily clad women. The people that represent our race don't speak for us in all its entirety.
I could easily imagine how excited he must feel to be conversing with a foreigner, but I couldn't help but feel nervous about what he might think of me. Perhaps I would also feel the same if I hadn't encountered any Asians since the dawn of my life, a mind free from stereotypes...
The community I lived in back in Texas was supposedly populated by a lot of Koreans, from the number of Korean restaurants and churches, but the Koreans themselves all seemed to have been hiding.
Since I rarely come across any Asians aside from transfer students from China while attending High School. You could only meet them in Korean supermarkets in the area, or the Vietnamese at the Pho restaurants. And even then they were all adults.
Silence passed in between the two of us. With his messy hair he looked kinda creepy, would it be rude if I invited him to visit Mom's hair salon?
I always hated it when proper-looking women would hand me their cards, it was like an insult...but also a kind slap of honesty in the form of a business card. Still, if I did something like that, that would make me just like them.
He's probably only like that because he just woke up.
"Whatever" is what I thought to myself and decided not to mind him anymore.
My hand was already on the window, while I waved goodbye with the other. I tried a phrase I had heard many times in anime. "Then, Ja ne..."
"Ah!" I'm not sure what he was startled by, me using a Japanese phrase or me closing the window on him.
I didn't really care to wait and see what else he had to say, I had already lost interest. Seeing him was too triggering. I felt as if I were looking in a mirror.
If someone were to tell me later I'd come to care about him deeply, I'd find it hard to believe. For as long as I could remember I've always felt empty. And that emptiness, I tried to hide on instinct.
Edit: To Alansyifa11, I started an i*******m account called writerbisa!The gym hall that graduation day was packed. The sound of our music flooded the room, and the hands of the crowd went up and swayed like stalks of grass from the wind. It was an unforgettable moment. That small feeling of power. The power to sway hearts with our music. But this newfound joy of mine didn't last long. "KAGAMI!" My mom stormed in through the door, and the people parted to make way for her like the Red sea before Moses. "WE'RE MOVING!" I froze as she made her way up the steps. Her expression was serious, angry. She rarely got angry at me but when she did... "W-wait...wait a minute, Mom..." My voice was shrinking. As the panic and confusion settled in of what I could have done wrong... She grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me off the stage, the shocked faces of my band members became smaller and smaller as we glided away, Mom's lower half became a tail. I reached out a hand to the guys who reached back. It was like a scene from Michaelangelo's Creation of Ada
She ignored me on our walk home as well, even though I made sure to keep up with her. Her whole being radiated negative energy that threatened to suck me in and obliterate me if I so even uttered a word that entered her subspace. It wasn't a pleasant feeling. I had seen her argue with her Mother before and it was scary. She was often quiet so I used to think she was timid, but a stronger personality ended up emerging out of nowhere. Today she had also surprised me in a different way. I was under the impression she was a reserved person... I didn't want to lose her. When I finally mustered the courage to say something she had already made it to her porch steps and closed the door with a quiet click. It was equivalent to someone chucking a glass of water. I felt cold and humiliated. Did she think I was a loser? She didn't even say goodbye... I walked home and as soon as I did Mom's eyes were twinkling. "Well? What song will you play for the audition?" "Huh?" A question sign h
The building was nicer looking than I anticipated. Most talent agencies let their exterior become a bit dusty and worn but this tall black building with purple-tinted windows was kept in good condition, which could only reflect on it's standards. As it towered over me. I froze up. A small hand was placed on my back, it radiated warmth as it nudged me forward. I turned around. "Aren't you going in?" Amara tilted her head at me. Today big golden checkmarks dangled from her ears. The shirt she was wearing today had the picture of an American actor, Shy Lebouff posing his signature pose. The three words were printed on it. "Just do it!" No caps today. "You were coming?" With folded arms, she nodded. "I'll be waiting for you, out here." "But, it's kinda hot out..." "I'm going to wait here." She repeated herself firmly. "O-okay." There was no use arguing with her when she was making such an adamant expression. Amara would be waiting out here for me. Oddly enough this newfound
"Huh?" The other numbers that walked in seemed just as surprised as me. For a brief second, time stopped. Did I fail? But I just got here! I could see myself leaving the building here seeing Amara's disappointed expression. That day at school, her twinkling brown eyes that dimmed into a soulless void. "You failed? Oh..." My very reality was on the verge of shattering into pieces. No. No. Amara wouldn't say that. *Even if by some chance those lovely people turn out to be dipshits and reject you Kagami, we can always turn to whotube!* But was that just her way of comforting me? "...have completely no sense of style for a rock artist. Your hairstyle and guitar are the only things that truly embody the spirit of rock. Let's hope your performance isn't as lacking." I heard only half of what she had said. My heart that had frozen and dropped slowly floated up to relief and irritation. "Stop intimidating the contestant, Ms. Yumena." A bald man wearing shades spoke calmly, he look
It felt like I was dreaming. Today was the day, nothing could stop me not even mom who saw me off at the door. "Are you wearing that?" I heard her say but it didn't register. "Congratulations on making it in, Kagami-kun!" That Sunday on my way to the company, I ran into our neighbor, Mrs. Amamiya, Amara's mother. That snapped me out of it. She was a tall lady with a waist like a wasp, she had fat and curves in all the right places; her legs were thick but slender, whenever she wore a slit dress one couldn't help admiring them, her arms were slim, and her bust... whatever manner she styled her hair in it was always a burnt orange color that emphasized her honey brown eyes that were accentuated even further by her cat-like eyeliner. (A goddess... or a celebrity?) What usually happens when someone first meets her is they end up gawking, not listening to a thing she says, they'll just nod. I'd like to think I'm past that phase now. I smiled instead. "Thank you!" "Are you on your w
A welcoming ceremony was held in the company's concert hall.New Trainees pooled inside. There was only a handful of us, which was surprising. I didn't think many would be given the golden pass, you know... From the way, it looks there are enough people to tell me five bands or more (+)were accepted.Eh? Where's Kenichi-san? Ehhh, did he not make it in? I wonder if he wasn't able to perform so well... We never found each other in the end after the audition, so maybe he didn't pass?However, once the lights dimmed and I fixed my attention on stage, I saw him there.As the drummer started off with the drum, eh?! Wait a second it's Satoshi-san!With Renjiro on bass, Kenichi on guitar, and a woman I didn't recognize was also playing the keyboard, she seemed young... was she an auditioner like Kenichi-san as well?Lorraine was standing in front of the mike.
He sat himself down at the counter before me and plopped down his head face first.I greeted him. "Hello to you too."A muffled "Hi" escaped him."How can I help you, sir?"He grunted."Then that'll be the bacon cheese fries, mango smoothie, and fish burger."He grunted. He rummaged through his jacket before fishing out his wallet and sliding it across the counter. I rang him up and let him be to prepare his smoothie and fries."The best pick me up is food." I placed his meal on a tray before him."Yes..."He seemed to have his headphones in. Seeing him hunched over the desk like that, I was tempted to stroke his head which at the moment seemed like a puppy.I didn't realize I was actually doing it, until his hand moved to reach for the smoothie and I retracted my hand quickly. It felt as if my hand was on fire.
"Hello!" I greeted the others who were already waiting for me inside the studio with a big smile. Though my mind was somewhat distracted by Amara's reaction earlier. Was that weird of me? "The heck do we all have to gather here again for?! I haven't even eaten!" Akemi-san had complaints about my random summoning. "Well, don't you think we should get started as soon as possible?" I politely smiled. "Oh," Being the gentleman that he is, Hagihara-san, the bald drummer came to help me carry in my items. I found it somehow intriguing how the person in the band with the most intimidating appearance turned out to be the most well-mannered and easy to get along with. Agawa-san the foreigner-looking bassist must've smelled the food because he suddenly ejected himself from the sofa to the studio's center table. "So you're not as empty-headed as you seem, you brought food for us?"