The house was quiet

Twenty years ago ...

Loneliness was caused by the absence of people.

By his dad, who left the house during the day to do God knew what until he returned to beat them in the afternoon. By his mum, who spent most of the day making food for them or sleeping to recover from the injuries she often obtained the night before. By himself, when he refused to leave her alone in the house and make friends who weren't ever allowed to find out about his violent home life.

That was what Yota had believed right up until he moved into Hikari's home. His residence there was supposed to be temporary, since they had only three bedrooms in total and a third child on the way. The police visited them frequently in the beginning, asking him all sorts of questions about his mum, about his dad, and about their daily lives.

At first he had kept his mouth shut but Hikari's parents, Mr and Mrs Oshiro, stayed beside him, giving him the strength to tell the police officers the truth. Over and over again. Sometimes to the same officer. Sometimes repeating it to someone completely new. Various social workers came hunting for information too, even after the police stopped dropping in, but their interviews also reduced in frequency as the months passed.

Leaving him to watch Mrs Oshiro pack food into two bento boxes for Hikari and Touwa, Hikari's younger brother, in the morning when he finally managed to wake up in time to see them off. He saw the way neither of them flinched whenever their dad reached out to ruffle their hair or ask them to pass him the remote for the TV after a long day at work. Hikari was affectionate and attentive when it came to her family, usually watching things play out in silence before she offered words or solutions to make things easier for everyone.

Yota realised it wasn't normal to watch the clock in the afternoon and start trembling as soon as the front door opened. He realised Mr Oshiro smiled whenever he had the chance to make his wife and children happy with gifts or experiences. He realised Mrs Oshiro never cried in the bathroom at night time, nor did she ever need to cover up her body to hide any burns or bruises.

The only discomfort she ever seemed to feel was from the weight in her stomach and Yota found himself instinctively looking away whenever the slightest traces of pain flitted across her face. Both she and her husband never spoke or acted in ways that would make him feel unsafe, no matter what kinds of difficulty they encountered, yet he never stopped expecting that to change at some point.

“We should move,” said Mrs Oshiro one evening, once all of the children had been tucked into bed.

Yota stopped in the middle of the hallway on his way back from the bathroom, having been determined not to wet the futon that night. His toes twitched inches away from the sliver of dull yellow light that marked gap between the open door and its frame. Although no one besides Touwa had complained after he was caught washing his bedsheets in the bath, Yota couldn't bear to see Mrs Oshiro scrubbing his futon and washing his clothes. Especially as her stomach grew more swollen over time.

“But we've only been here a few years,” said Mr Oshiro.

His ceramic plate, glass, and cutlery clinked as he set them on the table. A chair rasped across the floor. He worked in an office during the day and usually came back home late. From the way Touwa asked for his whereabouts, Yota assumed this was a new working pattern and suspected it had something to do with the family's need for extra money. The weight of his existence pressed down upon him like a hand on the crown of his head. He rubbed the sides of his skull, eyes closed in the cool, dark corridor, and tried to convince himself to return to Touwa's room.

“I know but the children won't stay small forever,” replied Mrs Oshiro. “They're all going to need their own space eventually. It's a good thing we haven't set up the nursery yet.”

“This is about Yota, isn't it?” asked her husband, his voice thickened by dinner.

“He's already been through so much,” she replied, sympathy moistening her tone. “Leaving one home at his age is bad enough. If we make room for him in ours, he might feel safe enough to find his own path just like the rest of the kids. Besides –”

Her hesitation pinned Yota's feet to the floorboards. He pressed his palms to his ears but their conversation cut through like a butcher's blade.

“– no one else is going to take him on, right?” guessed Mr Oshiro, clearing his throat. “Because his dad kil-”

“Dad?” Hikari's voice took Yota completely by surprise.

She stood right in front of him, on the other side of the luminous line, partially in view of those within the room. Her gaze flitted away from him quickly as Mr Oshiro called out to her.

“Kari? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm just thirsty,” she said. “Can I get some water?”

“Of course, you can.”

She hurried into the living room and exchanged sleepy small talk with them. The kitchen tap turned on for a few seconds, followed by a brief silence, before she reappeared again.

“Good night,” she said in a sing-song tone as she closed the door, throwing him into a deeper darkness.

Her hand found his easily and she pulled him along after her until they reached Touwa's room.

“Did you have a bad dream?”

“No, I just needed to use the bathroom.” He gulped as though he were lying to her.

“Really?” She seemed to think he was too but didn't sound angry, even when he nodded. “Make sure you tell me if you do, okay?”

“Why?” His voice was weak to his own ears in the otherwise unbroken silence of the corridor.

“Because I'm here for you,” she said. “And so are mum and dad. We want to be here for you, okay?”

“How do you know that?” The questions that had built up in his chest over the last few months spilled out abruptly. “And why? You're not my family. You don't know who I am and I don't know who you are either.”

“So what?” she shot back.

“So why're you all helping me?” he asked, exasperated. “Why're you always acting like everything's okay when I'm just getting in your way here?”

“You're not getting in our way, Yota,” she said at once. “That's not what dad meant –”

“I know what he meant.” Bitterness melted away pieces of his words. “No one else wants me so your family doesn't have a choice. I have to stay here, even if I don't want to.”

“You don't want to be here?” she murmured, sounding her age for the first time since they had met each other.

“No.” He bit off the rest of his complaints. “I just – I shouldn't –”

“Yota –” Hikari placed her fist against his forehead, somehow able to accurately pinpoint where it was. “You should leave all the thinking to mum and dad. They'll work it out.”

“But why – why do they have to do that?”

“Because they care about you, of course.” She tapped his nose and he wanted to ask how she had such good night vision. “Isn't it obvious?”

It should have been obvious. He didn't say anything.

“Do you want to sleep in my room?” she asked after an awkward ten seconds had passed. “I can move your futon and stuff.”

“No, it's okay,” he replied quietly, shaking his head

The idea of her finding out about his bed-wetting was humiliating enough on its own. He didn't need to add a live demonstration on top of it. The reduced lighting concealed his reddened cheeks.

“Are you sure you'll be okay sleeping in here?” she asked. “It's okay if you don't want to. I don't mind –”

“I-I'm okay,” he insisted, opening the Touwa's door but pausing before he closed it behind him. “Thanks, Hikari.”

She laughed under her breath. “Good night, Yota.”

“Good night.”

He found his futon and wormed his way under the duvet. It was warm and soft. The blinds blocked out most of the light from the moon and street lamps. Aside from the soft murmur of Mr and Mrs Oshiro in the living room, the rest of the house was quiet. No one was shouting at anyone. No one was throwing anything. No one was crying or being hit.

He wondered if his mum had ever had the chance to appreciate a peaceful night like this.

And if it was wrong for him to prefer the comfort of her arms, back in that cursed house, over the sense of safety he had been blessed with between the four perfectly decorated walls of Hikari's family home.