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[fic] a rock doesn't bounce far; it stops where it falls
It was another round of Toshio complaining about his parents. Not surprisingly there were a lot of profanities, but Seishin had learned to not cringe since years ago and just let him be while he poured all his heart's contents. Seishin admitted it was actually healthier that way.
This time wasn't much different from the last time Toshio was this upset, but then again there had actually been little variety all these years. There was a neat little pattern to it: Toshio's parents ordering him to do something he didn't want to do, Toshio and his parents throwing insults at each other over certain topics, and it all boiled down to their differing principles and the fact that they wished for different things in life.
However it wasn't like the son was that much different from the parents, or so Seishin thought. The fact that Toshio was able to hold differing stances had to come from a certain understanding of his parents' position, that he himself had to come from a similar place as them. Only then he'd be able to experience firsthand what his family went through and weigh in all options more objectively; one that was inherently 'him' and one that was not him. After all, one could only understand that there existed something different outside them when they had understood what existed inside them first. Seishin understood if that was the case.
"--They could go to hell, both of them, and bring Ozaki name with them!" Toshio shouted, kicking a pebble down into the river below them a bit too forcefully. His face was flushed and hair disheveled from all the running. He was calming down however, and Seishin knew very well that soon he'd resort to his usual self.
Seishin looked down at the river, the pebble Toshio had kicked into had disappeared without even a trace of rippling water. It was the peak of summer heat so the water had dried up considerably, but it was still fairly deep as it was Sotoba's main river. He couldn't see the bottom. Couldn't see anything under.
He pointed at the shop just across the road, and Toshio took the hint. The juice was Seishin's treat since in his haste to escape from his parents Toshio had obviously forgotten his wallet.
Sitting down on the bench beside the shop, they took time to finish their drink. It was comfortable under the tree, and Seishin could feel that his friend had fully relaxed. Toshio drawled, leaning backward on the sturdy tree trunk: "If only I were born a Muroi. Must be nice, that. Why couldn't your family just adopt me instead?"1
Seishin didn't know if he had to smile or grimace at that. If it was at Toshio's humorless joke or at how he viewed his family in the first place. Was that how it looked to people who weren't his family? It was both a foreign and familiar concept. "And you'll just repeat the cycle you hate?"
"Hardly. At least your parents are nice, unlike the demon incarnates that are my own. And you'll still be heir anyway, so I'm off the hook. I know, why don't you just adopt me into your family? You're older."
It was early August; their second summer break in high school. Seishin had just recently turned 17 but Toshio wouldn't until later, when the season had changed and cold settled in. Seishin briefly looked at the sky and Toshio just laughed, probably noticing that Seishin was lamenting at how bad in taste his jokes were.
"Muroi Toshio sounds kinda nice, eh."
"It isn't much different from Ozaki Toshio." Five roman letters, both names ending in an 'i', three Japanese syllables.
"Nah, no." Toshio crushed his can and aimed it at the nearest garbage bin; it missed and bounced onto the ground. "That's the ugliest there is."
1. Japanese adult adoption: a practice of adopting adults into a family, usually men, to obtain heirs when one lacks a male offspring. The adoptee has to be at least 15 years old and one day younger than the adopter. This reading isn't what is intended in the story, but: same sex couples in Japan also practice this as an alternative to same sex marriage (since it doesn't exist in Japan), making them able to share inheritance and rights that can only be obtained if they are entered into the same family register. ↩
This time wasn't much different from the last time Toshio was this upset, but then again there had actually been little variety all these years. There was a neat little pattern to it: Toshio's parents ordering him to do something he didn't want to do, Toshio and his parents throwing insults at each other over certain topics, and it all boiled down to their differing principles and the fact that they wished for different things in life.
However it wasn't like the son was that much different from the parents, or so Seishin thought. The fact that Toshio was able to hold differing stances had to come from a certain understanding of his parents' position, that he himself had to come from a similar place as them. Only then he'd be able to experience firsthand what his family went through and weigh in all options more objectively; one that was inherently 'him' and one that was not him. After all, one could only understand that there existed something different outside them when they had understood what existed inside them first. Seishin understood if that was the case.
"--They could go to hell, both of them, and bring Ozaki name with them!" Toshio shouted, kicking a pebble down into the river below them a bit too forcefully. His face was flushed and hair disheveled from all the running. He was calming down however, and Seishin knew very well that soon he'd resort to his usual self.
Seishin looked down at the river, the pebble Toshio had kicked into had disappeared without even a trace of rippling water. It was the peak of summer heat so the water had dried up considerably, but it was still fairly deep as it was Sotoba's main river. He couldn't see the bottom. Couldn't see anything under.
He pointed at the shop just across the road, and Toshio took the hint. The juice was Seishin's treat since in his haste to escape from his parents Toshio had obviously forgotten his wallet.
Sitting down on the bench beside the shop, they took time to finish their drink. It was comfortable under the tree, and Seishin could feel that his friend had fully relaxed. Toshio drawled, leaning backward on the sturdy tree trunk: "If only I were born a Muroi. Must be nice, that. Why couldn't your family just adopt me instead?"1
Seishin didn't know if he had to smile or grimace at that. If it was at Toshio's humorless joke or at how he viewed his family in the first place. Was that how it looked to people who weren't his family? It was both a foreign and familiar concept. "And you'll just repeat the cycle you hate?"
"Hardly. At least your parents are nice, unlike the demon incarnates that are my own. And you'll still be heir anyway, so I'm off the hook. I know, why don't you just adopt me into your family? You're older."
It was early August; their second summer break in high school. Seishin had just recently turned 17 but Toshio wouldn't until later, when the season had changed and cold settled in. Seishin briefly looked at the sky and Toshio just laughed, probably noticing that Seishin was lamenting at how bad in taste his jokes were.
"Muroi Toshio sounds kinda nice, eh."
"It isn't much different from Ozaki Toshio." Five roman letters, both names ending in an 'i', three Japanese syllables.
"Nah, no." Toshio crushed his can and aimed it at the nearest garbage bin; it missed and bounced onto the ground. "That's the ugliest there is."
1. Japanese adult adoption: a practice of adopting adults into a family, usually men, to obtain heirs when one lacks a male offspring. The adoptee has to be at least 15 years old and one day younger than the adopter. This reading isn't what is intended in the story, but: same sex couples in Japan also practice this as an alternative to same sex marriage (since it doesn't exist in Japan), making them able to share inheritance and rights that can only be obtained if they are entered into the same family register. ↩