The week wasn’t any less hectic, strenuous, or impossibly packed with drills, simulations, and photo shoots than any other week, but aside from being quite worn out, Nakiri felt pretty light as he made his way home. A small grocery shopping bag swung in his hand as he nearly skipped down the walkways towards the very lavish housing where he resided. It wasn’t really a mystery to him why he was in such good spirits. He had been riding an emotional high all week.
Sure last Friday had started out a little rocky, but by the end it had been a lot better. The rest of the weekend had fallen into a very neat and pleasant line. He felt a little surge of warmth and happiness as he remembered dinner with the Hext family Sunday evening. Nonna Hext, what a delightful woman! Nakiri thought she had liked him, which boded well in his mind, since he was friends with both of her grandchildren.
The only thing that could have made the week better would be knowing for sure he would see Lupo again soon. It was hard to admit that he had truly grown fond of the goofy dog’s company, but the panic Nakiri had felt at the idea of driving him away made it hard to deny that he liked Lupo a great deal. He had broken his reluctance to cook just to please the man!
Oddly it did not bother him as much as he thought it should. Nakiri hummed softly to himself, unconsciously smiling as he approached home. Nothing could ruin this week.
Nothing until he drew close to the building lobby and saw a familiar silhouette standing near the elevators. Both his smile and his step faltered as he drew closer and recognized his mother’s severe face. For a flickering moment elation washed over him as his eyes grew round as saucers. A wave of emotions rushed over him as he realized that his mother was standing before him in the flesh - it was the first time he had seen her since being forced to go to the ATC when he was only thirteen years old.
Joy was rapidly replaced with trepidation. The woman before him may have radiated the same heat that he did, but her expression and demeanor were cold as ice. So much so that a shiver went through him as he lowered his eyes timidly.
“Mother, I wasn’t expecting you.” It was a hesitant, formal greeting. Why was she there? As much as he wished it was a simple social visit, Nakiri knew better.
“Nakiri.” His name was clipped, as if the very act of saying it or speaking to him was something unpleasant. She gestured to the elevator. “Show me your apartment.”
It wasn’t spoken like a request to be invited in. Nakiri shuffled quickly to obey the order, hands trembling as the elevator opened for his chip. When the doors slid shut behind them, a bead of sweat formed on his brow. Neither spoke as they were taken up. He didn’t dare speak first, wiping his hands against his (very fashionable) jeans nervously to dry them as they became clammy. His mother had called to berate and demean him more than once since he had begun spending time with Lupo. It was no doubt to him that was the purpose of this unexpected visit.
Well he should have expected that things would only escalate. It was inevitable that eventually his mother would come to give him her condemnation in person. At least this was to be a private humiliation, performed in his living quarters, that should be expected as well. Of course his mother would not want to have a public spat with him.
That would only cause her more embarrassment.
Each floor in the most silent and uncomfortable elevator ride in his life only saw Nakiri’s anxiety level spike higher. When the doors finally opened he practically raced out of the suffocating metal box and towards his apartment door. The image of a tightening noose flashed through his mind as he reached home and pushed the door open quickly. He knew his mother was following him at a leisurely pace, that woman would not be seen to rush anywhere.
He moved to the kitchen and dropped his bag onto the counter, digging through cupboards to pull out two wine glasses, then grabbing a bottle out of the freezer.
Fox-like ears twitched as the sound of the apartment door closing reached them.
“I’ll pour us a drink.” It was all he could think to say. Nakiri had to say something, had to do something or risk going crazy. So he poured the wine with shaking hands as he waited for his mother to say something.
To say anything.
Trembling movements stilled as Nayumi Devoss moved around the kitchen island towards him. She was growing older, but the only sign of her age was the streaks of grey woven through fire red-orange hair and small creases around her almond-shaped pink eyes. It had been so long since he had seen the diminutive woman, who was an inch shorter and just as slight in build. A lump formed in his throat as tears prickled in his eyes. He wished to throw his arms around her but didn’t dare.
She was still cold.
Nakiri heard it first. The resounding, echoing crack as his ears folded back in confusion, then hung further as realization dawned as the burning sting made itself known against the skin along one side of his face. She had slapped him. His mother had slapped him!
In disbelief he raised a hand to touch the seared flesh of his cheek. The pain on the surface was not nearly as bad as the stabbing one that wrenched through his chest.
“Mother I -” How could he even begin to explain or excuse himself? There would be no explanations, it seemed.
“Silence, stupid child. You have shamed your mother for the last time. No child of mine will be the whore of some non-kitsuni fool.” Each word made him wince with the venom with which they were delivered.
“Please Mother, I have just been so lonely. I couldn’t stand being alone anymore. If you just arrange to give me a husband I will marry them, anyone you choose, I will be a good husband to them. I swear. I will never see him again, I promise.” The words came out in a rush as Nakiri dropped to his knees, another stabbing pain went through his chest at the prospect of turning Lupo away forever in favor of a husband, but to appease his mother, Nakiri would have promised anything and everything, so desperate was he to win back her approval - something he had not had since he had left home so many years before.
“A husband? Bah! I will not subject another kitsuni to this fate. You are selfish for even asking. They would be forced to move away from their home to live with you and then what? You would both be miserable. I will not do it. I will not perpetuate this farce of removing kitsuni from where they belong. If you had any sense of honor or respect for your people you would have died in that torture chamber they call a training ground. The Nakiri that was my son died when he was thirteen. You are not mine.” The words were earth-shattering, like a thunderclap echoing through his head.
You are not mine.
The faint, tenuous little psychic presence in the back of his mind blew out like a candle as Nayumi Devoss, his mother no more, turned from him and left his apartment without a further backward glance.
It may have been an eternity, or possibly only a few seconds, but Nakiri was frozen in place, on his knees on his kitchen floor, as the reality of the situation slowly rolled over him like a roiling wave of darkness. Something almost tangible squirmed within his chest and gut, a burning pain that threatened to overwhelm him even as it left him empty and cold.
Nakiri didn’t know how long he simply stayed there, but at long last he managed to rouse himself enough to try to grip the counter. He couldn’t see, tears blinded him as he attempted to regain his feet, but quickly gave up and sank back to the floor as his tails and arms wrapped around himself. Soft whimpers rose into choked sobs as the sense of being alone slammed into him harder than it had since that horrible day when he had left home.
The loneliness was a physical pain that twisted in his chest, threatening to choke him in truth as he gasped and struggled to breathe. Terror like nothing he had ever felt before clawed at him, because he knew that he would die here alone if he did not move from where he sat on the floor.
Nakiri knew there were knives in the drawers, so temptingly close. No, he couldn’t stay in the kitchen. Where could he go? Fleetingly he thought about the bathroom, but their were razors, the tub could be filled and one of his many curlers, straighteners, and other such electrical instruments could be thrown in with him. Maybe he could climb into bed, but the sheets could be fashioned into a noose, he could see it flash through his mind tauntingly.
Trying to get back to his feet only caused him to collapse all the way to the floor with a desperate whine. Nakiri considered curling into a ball again and just sitting until the despair consumed him, but instead he began crawling blindly through his apartment, feeling his way along as his eyes refused to clear no matter how many times or how rapidly he blinked.
It was hard to focus on where he was going. Trying to visualize his apartment was nearly impossible as he became more hysterical with each passing moment. He found his closet door and pushed it open. Could he strangle himself on some of the clothing inside? Nakiri pushed the thoughts aside and crawled into the dark, enclosed space. Funny how the elevator had felt suffocating and this was almost comforting.
Still moving blindly, he felt his way to the back corner until his hand brushed against something soft. A horrendous racket flooded the silent closet. It was the stupid turkey Lupo had given him. Nakiri had immediately loathed that ridiculous electronic gobble when he’d opened the package from the silly dog that had somehow become his friend.
Well he certainly didn’t think it was stupid now. Nakiri brought the stuffed toy to his chest and hugged it, burying his face against the material as it gobbled at him again. His body curled around the gift and shook as he cried, letting out the pain the only way currently available to him, because if he didn’t release it he knew it would destroy him. Honestly, Nakiri wasn’t sure the agony wracking his insides wouldn’t kill him no matter what he did.
“I wish you were here.” He sobbed almost incoherently into the dark.
Gobble.
