. . .

I’m still in shock at yesterday’s occurrence. I had wondered why Ichi-chan had been acting so differently. I always knew that he was good at hiding his emotions, better than me, just as good as Dad. But this . . .

Not talking to me. Occasionally avoiding eye contact with me. Acting rather indifferent—even coldly at times—with me. Then yesterday, after he blew up and assaulted Hideki—with his cello, no less—acting as if his suspension was no big deal and brushing it off, not really explaining anything (and making me feel terrible that he lied about why he did it, because I knew).

He’s restraining his anger. Or his fury, rather. I had always childishly referred it to his “inner demon,” never having witnessed it myself, but now . . .

*Shakes head* This is my fault, and he was just protecting me. But if I told the headmaster what he was protecting me from, that would require me to admit the truth . . . which, for selfish reasons, I just can’t bring myself to do. It still wouldn’t be enough to justify Ichi-chan’s actions, however. The school administration—although incredibly strict regarding violence and already having given him the absolute minimum in this sort of situation—would argue that using his instrument against Hideki, which is heavier and much more capable of doing more damage than an average bat or a crowbar, was completely unnecessary. They would also insist that no blows were thrown on Hideki’s part, which would reject self defense, considering the fact that he hit him repeatedly with said instrument when the first hit struck him unconscious, or so I heard, I wasn’t really paying any attention to him.

After I gathered myself, I pulled Ichi-chan away from him and he didn’t resist. He just stared at Hideki’s form . . . with so much hate. I’ve never seen him like that before.

Well, maybe once, but it was never to *that* degree, and that was years ago. Plus the random bouts of rage he’ll have occasionally, regarding our family (like how he reacted towards Haru-nii’s situation, both during the admission and after)

He hides it well; I was never able to notice. But the fact that he’s acting so differently towards me now shows me that he doesn’t have a handle on his emotions like he usually does. I mean . . . I suppose I can understand, since people don’t know how emotional he can really be—which isn’t a bad thing, of course, but . . . he doesn’t seem to have a very healthy outlet for his emotions. Bottling them up is the worst thing you can do to your psyche, and I’m afraid that he’s going to explode at the wrong time and place . . . like he did yesterday. And despite getting that out of his system . . . he’s angrier than before, and . . . I kind of . . . feel like . . . he’s taking it out on me now.

He brought my meal up to my room and took it upon himself to feed me. It was a delicious blend of Vietnamese food I’ve been wanting to try, made by Ichi-chan himself. Feeling bad, I insisted on nourishing myself and went to take the spoon from him gently. He immediately snatched it back, spilling its contents into my lap, and then telling me with a cold air that it was ”the least he could do since I had failed to entrust my predicament to him to begin with,” and that ”he could have helped then if he knew, but that helping now seemed to be the only thing he was good for.” So, I slumped and . . . let him. I mean, it was really half-hearted, I kept my gaze averted and only opened my mouth on cue when he would offer me a bite. It was awkwardly quiet at first, but then I remembered that—and this is just an assumption—he’s only angry because of me, so when I finished, I thanked him and smiled, and he formally told me that I was welcome, and then walked off with the tray.

I don’t know . . . quite how to handle this change. I suppose I should just try to help maintain his composure, but how do I do that? He doesn’t talk to me. He barely looks at me. If only . . . if only I knew why he was so angry. Is he angry with me? With Hideki? With a combination of both?

. . . I think I should ask him. I’ll make sure to do so before the end of the week. *Nods*

I slept for about an hour before I was awoken. Not by a dream or anything, just . . . I don't know. I feel like I have to get up and do something, but . . . *Looks over at the clock that reads 3:38am* Hmm.

*Gaze falls slightly to the sleeping Ichi, and smiles softly in the dark, reaching over to brush locks of hair from his eyes, then sighs softly*

I feel like I owe everyone something. And it doesn't help that Misa-san, Dad and Father are all treating me differently somehow. It's slight and subtle, but it's most certainly different. The way they speak to me, it's much softer than usual. It makes me wonder . . . no, nevermind.

Hmm.

I have this strange sort of feeling right now. Not a bad one, more like . . . like a need to be productive. I . . . *Looks down at Ichi again, then leans forward and kisses his temple, then crawls out of bed*

I think . . . I'll go make breakfast~

*Takes a deep breath and sighs*

Today . . . wasn’t as bad as I imagined it would be. Biology damn near gave me a heart attack, though. I was so thankful that Goku’s sensei went home sick that period, so he stayed with me. He stuck close by me the entire time and suggested we sit towards the back of the classroom, which I never usually do but given the circumstances, I was not one to argue.

And just as I had predicted, Hideki staggered in late, stopping the class dead in the middle of lecture. He exchanged a few words with sensei, then announced that he preferred to sit beside me. So, of course, Hanari-sensei asked Goku to move or leave. I cannot tell you the feeling of panic that swelled within me for that split second. But Goku didn’t budge, and instead politely shot back,

”Sensei, considering that Hideki-senpai has that injury and wouldn’t be able to get by without his crutches, it would make no sense for him to try to make his way all the way back here without them getting caught in the legs of the desks. I would recommend he remain up front so he doesn’t have to go through the trouble.”

Thank heavens she whole-heartedly agreed and asked one of the students up front to move. Goku just grinned at me and pretended to take notes while he was actually doodling pictures of Hideki as a cow.

After class, he wouldn’t let me leave until Hideki was gone, then Sayuri-chan joined us. Lately, Ichi-chan would have been waiting outside of class by the time I was out but today wasn’t the case. I can only assume that he’s talked to my friends regarding the situation, which would confirm them knowing what was going on without anyone having to tell them. Regardless, we exited the classroom and headed towards the empty courtyard, and I pulled Goku into a tight hug with my good arm and just held onto him without saying a word. Then I did the same to Sayuri-chan, who sandwiched me between herself and Goku, hugging us both. Again, I . . . I couldn’t help it, but I cried. And they both just held and pet me.

I’ve realized that no matter how normally I try to act, I just can’t forget or pretend nothing happened. This feeling is going to stay with me—this memory is going to stay with me. I don’t . . . I don’t know what I need to do to get past it . . .

Then there’s Ichi-chan. It was so good having him around all this time but he’s so . . . quiet. I . . . don’t really know what to make of it. He left last night to visit Ai-chan, but we didn’t exchange very many words at all. And I didn’t ask any questions. I actually get the feeling sometimes that he doesn’t actually want to be around me. Or . . . perhaps he’s getting sick of being around me. Which I would understand, I’ve been nothing but depressing ever since he and Haru-nii found out. I can’t seem to stop apologizing . . .

I’ve been trying, though, I really have been. I hope everyone can see that . . .

This past weekend has been . . . I don't know. Quiet, it seems. Haru-nii took us out to keep our minds from things and I appreciate the effort, and seeing the bright smile on his face encouraged me to try as well. But I couldn't stop thinking.

Haru-nii leaves today. Then tomorrow, I have to go to school. It's not like I'm alone, of course, but it'll still feel like a part of me is missing, I guess. It always makes me sad when Haru-nii has to go, but it's understandable because it's his current obligation. School, though . . . I hope I can manage a little better than I did on Friday. Ichi-chan has instructed me to sit and keep as far away from him as possible. But I have a feeling he might stroll in late again. I'll just have to make sure there are no free seats around me this time...

Aside from that, I'm feeling a little better. Emotionally, physically, mentally. It kind of feels like I was able to open a window and was instantly met with a burst of cold wind to my face. I feel like this is the weekend where I breathed in that wind, and smiled. I don't remember the last time I genuinely smiled, how sad. I want it back though, I miss it.

I'm going to try to forget about all this, too. I mean, obviously, I never will, but I want to be able to at least discuss it openly without feeling so... ashamed or embarrassed. Um, I'm still not sure if I can do that, but . . . well, since Haru-nii is leaving today, I thought maybe he'd have questions, or something. Ichi-chan might, as well. I'm perfectly willing to talk about it because I don't want to hide anything anymore. But . . . I mean . . . please understand that it may take me a few moments to try to . . . gather what I want to say. I mean, heh, I've never been good with words or explanations, so . . .

December is my month for gifts, isn't it? *Nods* I look forward to it. I'm not counting Christmas, or anything. I want to give my brothers something... just, something separate from all that. So I suppose they'll be receiving two gifts from me.

In the meantime, I realized that I haven't played anything but depressing songs on the piano, so... I sat down in front of the majestic instrument and just... played.

In the spirit of . . . being honest, I . . . *Looks away a bit* I went back and changed the privacy settings on all my posts in the past month. Everything I have written, about Hideki mostly, is public and anyone can read them. It sure beats trying to explain it all over again. But please don’t ask me anything too specific, should anyone have any questions.

( I also . . . wanted to share what had happened today with my brothers. )

I won’t start with any sort of introductions, nor will I even deny anything anymore. Now that . . . you both know . . . Just that . . . I’ve been very good at avoiding Hideki for the past few days up until . . . today. I would pointedly change directions whenever I saw him or would take time out of my day to wait until he leaves a classroom that I needed to be in or . . . or . . .

I noticed that . . . every time we made eye contact, he’d give me this look. A cold one, of warning, demanding that I didn’t turn away. And yet . . . I knew that, despite what consequences it would lead to, I did so, anyway. Hence . . .

Hence today.

School had been over for ten minutes, and I was walking around the campus, since Ichi-chan had asked me to meet him at the front of the school, but . . . well, he wasn’t there, so I assumed he was being held up in class. I had left one of my books in my last classroom, so I decided to head back to retrieve it. I was on guard, of course, since most of those . . . i-incidents . . . took place after school on school grounds. Almost all of them, actually. I can only recall that one time in my room . . .

A-anyway. I hurriedly walked into the empty classroom and made a beeline for my seat, where my book was sitting neatly and untouched on the corner of my desk. Neatly. In the corner. I had left it in the seat—actually having forgotten it. The second I realized this, I felt a hand slap over my mouth from behind and I was pushed down over my desk, all in one fluid motion. The hand that was keeping me quiet moved to twist my arm behind my back, and I let out a painful cry. I was pinned against the hard surface of both the desk and the book—only partially along the frame, which seemed to hurt all the more. Then, I heard his voice in my ear.

“Did you really think that you could escape me, Masanori?” He only used my full name when he was really angry. I whimpered when he put pressure on the arm that was pinned behind me agonizingly. Oh, I knew I was really in for it this time. “Little shit . . . Didn’t I say that you were my property? What right do you think you have to deny me?” I cried out again with each word that he emphasized as more and more pressure was put on the joint in my shoulder. It really felt like it would snap at any moment with the strength he was putting into it.

“I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I just—” I gasped when his other hand snuck around my waist to undo my belt, and I proceeded to squirm only receive another hard push against my arm, and I yelled out at the burn that ran through my entire arm and shoulder. My free arm was wrapped around the desk and my hand was gripping the slick underside of its surface, helpless to aid the rest of me from the inevitable attack.

“You’re sorry? Hmph, pathetic is what you are. I’ll make you regret ever undermining me again.”

The hand that was feverishly working to undo my pants succeeded and . . . a-and . . .

*Blushes, looking away*

I remember squirming, the corners of the book digging excruciatingly into my chest, most likely adding more marks to the collection that I’d already accumulated. I could feel that my whole face was hot, both in shame and embarrassment, but also from the strain of what was being done to my arm, which started to feel numb to the point where the affliction was all I could feel aside from typical touch. He was . . . not gentle at all and . . . and it really hurt, what he did—and I’m, um . . . I’m not referring to my arm.

I . . . I was begging him to stop but the more I did, the harder he did it. The combination of the book jutted into my chest, the numbing and growing strain in my shoulder, and . . . and that, what he was doing to me, compelled me to tears, but he took no mercy—as usual—and treated me more aggressively. I remember . . . I remember my forehead was pressed against the desk as pools of my own tears trickled down my face and landed softly on the hard surface. I remember I was whimpering as I sensed that familiar, tightening feeling in my torso, the one I hated but was always and eventually forced to give into. I remember . . . at that very moment, right as that feeling was being expelled, I screamed out upon the sensation of a searing and tormenting pain in my shoulder, not having heard the loud snap that accompanied it.

But everything after that . . . I don’t remember. The only thing I was aware of was . . . a weight being lifted off me . . . then Ichi-chan was there, holding me close, and . . . I saw Haru-nii . . . with Hideki and . . . I-I was sobbing because I was so, so glad to see them but I had no idea why they were there and I remember wondering if I was dreaming, then . . .

Well, then I blacked out. When I awoke, I was in my bed, and my shoulder—wrapped in bandages with my arm in a sling—was aching. I looked beside me and . . . and I’m still looking beside me . . . Ichi-chan is here, sleeping.

*Bites his trembling bottom lip, looking away as tears well up, voice cracking*

I . . . I owe you guys a huge apology . . . For keeping this from you both and . . . for-for lying so blatantly . . . I just . . . I can’t . . . I-I . . .

*Folds his legs up against his chest and hugs them with his good arm, then rests his forehead on his knees, then proceeds to sob without inhibition, as he’s craved to do all this time*

I'm putting on my best game face.

I'm going to go downstairs and greet my family. I'll throw myself at Haru-nii joyfully. I'll apologize for not having greeted him the day before, and for not answering anyone's phonecalls, since I'd left my phone at home. I will smile sheepishly and scratch the back of my head as I explain to them that Hideki had an accident with the research paper part of the project and we had to throw in some overtime to finish it again, because it really is due Monday. And I'll tell them that I did come through the front door but I never checked what time. I mean, they couldn't have been watching the door like hawks. Or could they have...? Hmm. I suppose I'll have to tell them that I had to come around through the back because the front door was locked (which isn't unusual -- my whole family's paranoid about that) and I'd somehow lost my housekey. As it stands, I really couldn't find my key, so that would probably be the second truth, aside from the phone.

I'll laugh and be happy. Because at the moment, I have no reason not to be. But I can't help the frown that constantly and insistently tugs at my lips.

Well... here goes nothing.

I arrived home late today—er . . . yesterday. Very late. I don’t have my last two classes on Fridays so I get out about two hours earlier than other days. But yesterday, I got home just after sundown, when it was already dark. I climbed the side of the house—even though I was in incredible pain—and flung myself into my room. I haven’t even seen Haru-nii yet. I literally just . . . knocked right out into sleep and awoke from . . . a dream, hours ago.

The school didn’t call home, thankfully. I assume that they deliberately overlook a few absences without parental confirmation from good students. Considering I’m not absent often (except recently, of course) without having someone call in for me, I believe they let it slide.

( I spent most of my day hobbling around town aimlessly after that first entry from yesterday. )

Let me make sure my private settings are on.

. . .

Oh, god. How could I have been so stupid? Ugh. The ONE person I DIDN'T want to have any knowledge of what was going on... For the love of... Ugh.

Thank heavens I was vague. Damn. Damn. I ended up setting that entry to private again, even though it looks more suspicious that way. I'll tell him I deleted it because I didn't need it. >_<;;

. . . *Looks down at his right thumb where a band of silver circles the base* I feel so terrible lying to him. And this is a reminder to me of every lie I've been forced to tell to him, to my family... At the same time, it has to be the greatest comfort I could possibly have at this point. I cried myself to sleep last night, but the last thing I remember before dozing off was kissing it. It was the first night I didn't resist sleep so aggressively, despite the fact that I hadn't slept at all in the past four days. It was also the first night where I didn't have any dreams. A dreamless sleep... I haven't had that in a while.

*Sigh* I can't believe I outed myself the way I did. Really outed myself. I hate that Hideki influenced such a thing, and I feel even more horrible about Sayuri-chan. She didn't look hurt when I initially told her, but more worried, almost as if she... she knew. I know that... I know that Goku may be aware of what's going on, and I think Sayuri-chan may be catching on... I... hmm...

I feel like the gears of a clock are slowly revolving, building up to something considerably overwhelming. I can't help but shake this feeling of anxiousness that has been tailing me ever since this all started. I feel like even if Hideki stops, it... it won't be over. I... I don't know...

*Slumps and frowns* I was so close to telling Ichi-chan last night. So, SO close. But... I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I should have faith in him -- and I do -- but... *Rubs the ring gently with his other thumb absently* I just can't. I don't know how he'd handle it, and that... well, it scares me. I don't know if he'd get angry with me for not telling him, or be disgusted with me when he knows, or comfort me... Though it seems keeping my secret is hurting him. I know he wants me to confide in him but... I just really, really hope he doesn't say anything to anyone.

Especially not to Haru-nii, oh god. He's coming today, and although I'm really, really happy to know that my real big brother is finally coming home, even if only for a short while... I'm terrified of what he'd say. I suppose... I suppose he would understand but... but still! This is nothing like his ordeal, I... this is nothing in comparison.

I guess... I just don't want them to worry about me. Ichi-chan and Haru-nii are my best friends and honestly the greatest people I've been privileged to grow up with, and... I don't want them to worry. I feel like I'd be burdening them with such a thing, and... I feel like a hypocrite for saying this, after I heatedly told Haru-nii that he should have informed someone of his own situation, but I would rather suffer alone. I want to save them any sort of anguish on my part, and if I can help it at all, I will.

Though if they do find out...

>_<;;

I ended up skipping school today. I'm sitting in the cafe that Dad likes to visit occasionally when he has time. I hope the school doesn't call home...

He did it again today . . . but he didn’t hurt me this time. He kept apologizing to me and . . . it makes me wonder why in the world he bothers when he knows I can’t forgive him. He kept telling me, ”Remember when I protected you, Nori? From all those guys who tried to start fights with you for no reason . . . Have you noticed that you haven’t been in any fights at all since school started? It’s because I protected you. And our bio teacher doesn’t bother you anymore because I told her to fuck off, basically . . .”

It doesn’t matter to me that he was gentle this time. It doesn’t matter that he held me as if I was going to break. It doesn’t matter that he was nuzzling my ear gently, whispering apologies to me and . . . *Blush* . . . telling me that he loved me . . .

It doesn’t change everything he’s done until now. It’s not fair that he thinks that saying sorry will make me forgive him and . . . and that.

He made a valid point though. ”Nori, stop crying, you don’t hate this. You’ve never once asked me to stop . . .”

And . . . I never thought about it until now, but it’s true. Just the first time, when this all started, was the only time I asked him to really stop. It’s not like I want it, not at all. It’s . . .

What is it? Damnit . . .

I hate this feeling and I hate myself. I can’t even face my own reflection in the mirror anymore . . .