REMAID- One Good Day VI

Biting my lip, I sit alone. Dinner’s done, everyone’s gone to bed, and I’m left to think by myself. As such, I think. In hindsight, it feels like a day of endless fuck ups. I wonder where exactly I went wrong to end up with a day like this. Sighing, I hold my face in my hands and just…stop. No more thinking. No more contemplating. No more anything. Just…just give me one moment to stop worrying about anything and everything.

“Good evening Yuta.” Grandma’s voice appears from behind.

Well, shit.

“Hey grandma.”

“Seems you had a busy day.” She sits down next to me on the couch.

“Busy…yeah, you could call it that.” I hold in a laugh, before sighing once more.

“Well, I’d say you took it better than others would have.” She scratches the back of her neck, and goes quiet. What am I supposed to say? That’s good? How nice? I don’t feel either of those things. I just feel tired.

“I honestly couldn’t care less if I did good or not. I’d much prefer never having a day like this again.” I say.

“Really? Hmm, I suppose that’s fair.” Grandma coughs. “As for my part in it, I apologize.”

“It’s really not that big compared to the rest of it.”

“Even still, it was unacceptable. I…really don’t know how you feel.” Grandma leans back, relaxing on the couch. “Mostly because my grandson simply won’t tell me, and I don’t understand why. It’s selfish, but…I don’t wanna go through this without you. I wanna know you’ll be okay too.”

“I don’t…think I’ll ever be okay.”

“But why?” Grandma sits up, holding my hand. Staring at her, the feeling of keeping it all to myself somehow seems…pointless. It won’t fix anything, telling her, but it’ll make her understand, and feel better.

“Mom killed herself because a girl I wronged killed herself.” I said the words, too tired to feel like they’re anything special. They’re just the truth.

“Yuta…what happened?”

“...I broke her painting. A painting she’d made with her grandmother…it was an accident. I was pushed into it and it came crashing to the ground. It broke apart. The ones who pushed me, they said if I didn’t take the blame I’d regret it. Honestly, I was such a scaredy cat bullied brat back then, I was terrified of them. So I took the blame, wholly.” I let my face rest in my hands as the creaking begins to reverberate through the room.

“That girl killed herself soon after. Her mother came after me, and my mom…wasn’t strong enough to take her abuse. So, she killed herself.” I put my hands down, and look over at the corpse hanging from the ceiling. It’s lips form a twisted smile.

“I was the one who found her body…you already knew that. It looked so cold and white. My first instinct was to hang myself right there next to her. I had found the rest of her rope. It snapped. I still…remember the pain.” The painful melancholy fills my chest. A smile spreads across my face.

“But the night before that grandma? It was so nice. We had spaghetti and meatballs. Mom had made them extra good, I don’t know how that was possible. That girl’s mom was gone for the day, the other harassers had put down their phones and signs, it was just me, mom, and dad, and it was good.” I stand up.

“When dad went to bed, I couldn’t sleep. I walked out of my room, looking for a glass of water. I found mom on the balcony, watching the street below. I went out and joined her. We…we didn't say anything to each other. I don't think we needed to though." I walk past the living room table and stand before this corpse hanging so maliciously, and take it's hand.

"I could feel it. No matter if she blamed me or not, at that moment, I was her son, and she was my mother, and…and we really did love each other." Gripping that hand tight, I take a deep breath.

"Even though she left me, I still…I still love my mom."

The corpse hanging there, when I blink, vanishes. I feel a sense of loneliness, before relief sets in.

"I think…that night made up for so much. That one thing was enough to make it…one good day." I look over at my grandma, who's smiling at me. "I think…I've had a lot of those since I've come here."

###

A knock comes to the door. Looking at it curiously, my eyes drift to grandma, who seems just as confused as me. Who the hell's here so late, while it's still raining no less. Maybe it's dad? No, that wouldn't make sense, the train ride here takes a fair bit of time. So then, who the hell is it?

A nervousness fills me as I slowly step toward the door. Maybe I'm just overthinking things. It may be Take. He musy have left his cash or something and needs it to buy a drink to help with a newly made black eye from Miura…Miura…no. No, there's no way. Absolutely not.

I arrive at the door. Another knock comes from it. Deciding it's better not to drag this out any further, I reach out and turn the doorknob. The door flings open, and there he stands. Tall. Proud. His disgusting self basking in his own presence. Miura.

"Yuta, buddy! It's been a minute huh? Bet you wondered where I was. Well, uh, that's not too important. What IS important is…you tried to act tough against the king of this fucking village. Now I'm about to show you how awful an idea that was." Miura smiles, loving every second of this. Next to him is a man with black hair and bored looking yellow eyes.

"Miura, don't sound so dramatic, it's embarrassing." The man sighs, clearly tired.

"Ah, right, Yuta, have you met the village leader yet?" My blood runs cold. Miura grabs the man's arm. "Well, here he is! And boy…does he have a punishment for you."