Mirrored

Chapter 5 - Kaya

New Chapter!!! ✨💜✨

Just a little heads up, this chapter if fairly long so I do recommend reading it when you have a little more time on your hands.

Hehehe, this chapter, you may or may not have seen a spolier from tiktok. 🫢🤭

Enjoy reading!!!🦫🐾

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"What a fine weather today! Can't choose whether to drink tea or to hang myself."

- Anton Chekhov

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This is a nightmare.

No, it's better than a nightmare, I guess. At least I'm not hyperventilating or sweating breathless. But it was a different type of nightmare and there were three distinctive qualities about both.

One, I couldn't get out even if I wanted to.

Two, I had no say in whether I wanted this to happen or not.

And three, I have to without exception, experience the worst part of the narrative.

Just like the man said himself, no one raised their concerns with me following him. Well, at least not openly. They all still give me disgusted looks here, and a snide remark there. They will all look at me from top to bottom to analyse and come to the conclusion that I wasn't worth anywhere near him.

It seems like a lifetime ago where I was praised everywhere I went and received gifts just to be on my father's and Oyabun's good side.

These hypocrites.

But I suppose I am one myself.

One may say the public's eyes or gaze was the worst part. It isn't.

His presence was.

A few months ago, I talked over him, talked back at him, yelled, and screamed at him, without a single worry. Because I knew him since we were toddlers. Because I knew him inside out like he does me. Because I just knew him.

But this current situation I was in right now, prevented me from doing . . . anything.

I should just be thankful that my family is alive. I know that. My brain knows that. My logic knows that.

But my body doesn't.

All I wanted to do was shake him, yell, and scream about my worries and concerns. He was the only one who knew about them. He was the only one who had seen everything. All the ugly, disgusting, bloody events of my life.

He was the only one who listened. The one that didn't care about who I really was, or the person I had turned into. He was the only one that cared enough to stay. Really stay.

Until he didn't.

That was the worst part.

But it wasn't like he had a choice.

A naive part of me wants to cave in and just cry. Tell him I am exhausted, and I don't want to do this anymore. See how he would react. At the end of the day, it was always easier to accept reality earlier on than to never know or learn about it when it's too late.

But I was a coward. And explaining what goes in my head was something I wasn't very good at or capable of doing. There was too much going on all at once and then nothing at all sometimes. How am I supposed to explain when I can't even understand myself?