Chapter Text
She's fourteen years old the first time she spots her in the crowd.
How long she'd been there, Ai has no idea. When she's up on stage, the frenzy and motion of the audience is too fast and frenetic for her to pick out any one face for too long. All she knows for sure is that one moment the sea of faces before her are a blur and the next her gaze has snagged on a single point in the crowd like a fishhook.
The woman stands out like a sore thumb - not because she's tall (she isn't) or because she's dressed particularly ostentatiously (she isn't). If anything, she's perfectly nondescript - plain features, clothes that are neither flashy nor dull, mousy brown hair hanging in a limp bob around her face. She's stood at the back of the crowd, motionless in contrast the heaving, writhing mass of bodies packed into the venue. She's staring up at Ai and yet, somehow, it feels as though she's looking through her rather than at her.
The world seems to slow to a crawl. Sound fades out until she can hear nothing but the dull pounding of blood in her ears.
Without meaning to, she lets out a soft noise - the sound of a girl who'd just seen a ghost.
Or the Devil.
And then the moment passes and sound comes crashing back in and the crowd surges forward once more. The lights flare, dazzling, and her eyes tear through the crush of people to try and find the woman again - but of course, she's already gone, swallowed up by the tide of people.
It's as though she'd never been there at all.
Somehow, Ai manages to finish the concert. She's not sure how - the rest of the show passes in a strange sort of daze. If anything is off-kilter, the fans don't seem to notice or care. They scream and cheer and howl confessions of love and Ai takes it all, smiling and pretending she can't still feel that stare gouging right through her.
By the time she steps offstage, her smile is plastered so tightly onto her face she thinks it might crack. While the other girls pile off to the dressing room, Ai makes a cheery excuse about needing some air and slips off to the bathrooms.
Once she's found the furthest stall from the door, she locks herself in, bends over the toilet and throws up until the only thing that’s coming out of her mouth is strings of reeking, searing bile.
She was nine years old the first time she decided her mother didn’t love her.
It was an unusually cold end to the year during Ai’s first winter at the children’s home. No snow had fallen but the city was still painted white by frost that made the ground alternately slippy and crunchy underfoot when you went outside. It was cold enough that even though the heating was running for most of the day, Ai still needed to bundle herself in a blanket to guard against the chill that seeped in through the glass as she sat by the front window and stared out of it.
The staff had done their best to get everyone into a seasonal mood with decorations up and down the halls but their efforts were pretty underwhelming - a wreath of garish plastic red and green berries hung on the door and the cheap paper cut outs of snowmen and angels decorating the halls were already sagging where they'd been taped not a day after they were put up.
Then again, it probably would've been a dour Christmas however the staff had decorated. For a place named after something as colorful as a flower garden, Hanazono Childrens' Home was depressingly drab - pale faded paint walls, scuffed floors and worn out furniture that creaked when you sat on it too hard. The grounds weren't much better, either. According to one of the older kids, there'd been a real lawn once upon a time and some flowerbeds out by the front of the building. But it'd gotten too expensive or time consuming to maintain, so it'd all been torn out and the grass had replaced with a weird squishy rubber floor that supposedly cushioned falls better but had torn Ai's knees up pretty bad the one time she'd taken a sprawl.
Still, it could have been worse. She wasn't really friends with any of the other kids but none of them had been mean to her either. The adults were mostly nice in a kind of bland, distant way, always too busy with something or other to really give your their full attention but she hadn't heard any of them yelling yet and as far as she knew, none of them were hitting any of the kids. She'd learned pretty early on that as long as you stayed out of trouble and didn't make too much of a fuss, they were content to leave you to your own devices which was fine by her. If she was going to be stuck anywhere until her mom came to pick her up, Hanazono wasn't the worst place to be.
She wasn't really sure how long exactly it was going to be staying here, though. The social workers who had come to the house to pick her up hadn't quite explained that much. In fact, that hadn't really explained anything at all - just that her mom wasn't going to be around for a little while and they'd found her somewhere she could stay in the meantime, so she should pack a bag with her most important things and get ready to go. She hadn't really understood what was going on but she knew it was pointless to try asking grown ups questions they'd already decided not to answer, so she just grabbed her school bag, stuffed in as many of her clothes as she could fit and let herself be led away.
She heard the rest when she pretended to nod off in the car and the social workers had started to talk quietly among themselves now they thought she wasn't listening. She didn't quite get the full story, but she heard the words arrested and minimum sentence thrown around enough times to get the gist.
She wondered if she should ask why she wasn't being taken to stay with her dad. Then she decided that whatever the answer was, she probably didn't want to know.
"Hey, Ai-chan. There you are."
It was one of the adults' voices that piped up from behind her - a soft-spoken man whose name she could never get to stick in her head, but whose face she had an okay time remembering because of his chunky, oversized glasses. Though her instinct was to turn at the sound of her name, Ai kept herself stubbornly staring forward out the window, eyes locked on the mailbox at the front of the building. It was just coming up to noon, which meant the mail was due any minute and she was determined not to waste a second between it landing in the box and her running out to see if any of it was for her.
Glasses Guy let out a soft huff of laughter and Ai heard the squeak of springs as he sat down on the sofa just behind the window. "Not talking to me today, huh? That's okay. It's coming up on dinner time, though. You feeling hungry?"
Ai gave a noncommittal shrug and Glasses Guy hummed thoughtfully.
"That's a maybe, I think. You sure you don't want to come try a little bit, see if your tummy wants some? We're having katsu sandwiches today."
Ai didn't dignify that with a response either. Or at least, she tried not to. Her treacherous stomach gave a loud growl of interest at the prospect of katsu - she hadn't eaten since breakfast, after all - and Glasses Guy chuckled.
"So, yes to katsu... I'm guessing, no to coming for dinner?"
The surprising note of sympathy in his voice was enough to make Ai finally turn from the window and look at him. He was smiling - a good smile that made his eyes crinkle up behind his glasses and that usually meant it was a real one.
"You don't wanna miss the mailman, huh."
Ai blinked at him in surprise. "How'd you know?"
Glasses Guy laughed, but it wasn't a mean laugh. "Because you only post up here the days he's due to drop by. Uh, pun not intended, I guess."
"Pun?"
"Post. Mailbox. Get it?" He gestured out the window to the mailbox. "Ah, well, it sounded funnier in my head."
A begrudging smile pulled at the corner of her mouth.
Glasses Guy noticed. "There we go. A smile's always better. Why don't you come sit down, Ai-chan? Keep me company for a little while?"
He patted the seat on the sofa next to him. Ai hesitated. The mail was due any minute now and if she missed it... well, she didn't know what'd happen if she missed it but she didn't want to either way. But Glasses Guy looked hopeful and she didn't want to cause a fuss so she reluctantly slid herself off the windowsill and padded over to the sofa.
Glasses Guy beamed at her as she plonked herself down, keeping a careful distance between them. "Attagirl. So, tell me, Ai-chan - how're you holding up?"
Ai shrugged. Glasses Guy waited patiently for her to elaborate. When she didn't, he just nodded.
"I get it. Big changes can be tough. Must be a lot to take in, huh?"
She thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, I guess. It's not so bad, though. Everyone's nice here."
Glasses Guy's smile was pleased. "That's good to hear. Getting along with everybody okay?”
She nodded.
“No fights, no problems?"
She shook her head.
"Good. That's real good." He paused for a moment. When he spoke again, his tone was more cautious. "About the mail thing... is it okay if I ask why you wait up here for it? You looking for a letter?"
Ai's stomach tightened. Instead of answering, she focused her eyes on the thinning patch at the knee of her pants. There was a loose thread, so she plucked at it, winding it around and around her finger until it pulled free.
"Hey, hey." said Glasses Guy gently. "I failed Home Ec, you know. I can't fix that if it turns into a hole."
She stopped pulling.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to put you on the spot. I just worry, y'know? We're all just trying to help and sometimes it's hard to know what'll be best for you until you let us know. So if you ever wanna talk about anything, I promise I'll try my best to understand. Okay?"
Ai didn't say anything. For a long moment, she and Glasses Guy sat in silence. She swung her legs back and forth a bit, scuffing the soles of her socks along the floor, trying to tick by enough seconds for him to lose interest and go away. But to her surprise, he just stayed where he was, seemingly happy to wait for however long it took her to speak.
"...I'm waiting for a letter from my mom." she eventually mumbled, fingers still idly twining the thread round and around her thumb.
Glasses Guy's voice was calm and steady. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. I get that maybe she can't visit yet." If she really was still in prison, anyway. "But she can write me letters. And I can write her back."
"Okay." said Glasses Guy neutrally.
"But she hasn't yet. So."
A part of Ai had been hoping that maybe a birthday card would've come in the mail. Mom wasn't always great at remembering - she'd forget Ai's birthdays as often as not and sometimes she'd only remember once the day was more or less over. But Ai figured maybe she might remember this one, if she was missing her.
But nothing had come. It'd been a little disappointing, but not too surprising. So she'd turned her hopes towards Christmas instead. Even if Mom had forgotten her birthday, there was no way she'd forget Christmas, right? She didn't need to send a fancy card or a gift or anything like that - just a note letting her know she remembered and she was thinking about her. That'd be enough.
"Maybe she forgot." Her voice came out very small. She twisted the thread so tight it dug into her thumb and hurt a bit.
Glasses Guy gave a thoughtful hum. "Maybe she's still getting settled in where she's at, just like you are." he suggested. "Maybe she needs a little longer before she feels like she can write to you."
It sounded like a nice sounding excuse... but it was still just an excuse. Maybe Glasses Guy really did think it was possible, but she thought it was more likely that he was just saying it to make her feel better. Her over awareness of that made it hard to appreciate the sentiment.
"Maybe." she echoed vaguely.
Glasses Guy sighed softly. When he spoke again, his voice was very gentle. "Are you missing your mom a lot, Ai-chan?"
The question seemed to land in her chest with a hollow plunk.
Did she miss her mom?
All the things about Hanazono that she liked, she liked because they were different from how things were with Mom. Food was served on a reliable schedule three times a day, not when Mom felt like making it, if she bothered to make anything at all, and even when it wasn’t exciting it usually tasted good and there was never anything in it that wasn’t supposed to be there. She wore clothes that were clean every day and nobody seemed to mind all that much if she got them dirty or rumpled, not even the staff who had to do the washing. Rules existed and they were followed - and if there were consequences for breaking them, they were always fair and predictable. No one yelled or hit you or even really got that angry at all, no matter what was going on.
It was a weird, dull sort of comfort but it was still comforting. She didn't have to guess at how her day was going to go - she could trust that it would be the same as it had been yesterday and the day before that, so long as she didn't do anything to interrupt her self imposed routine.
And yet - part of that very routine was sitting here at the window, waiting for the mailman to bring her a letter from Mom. And when she thought about Mom, her stomach started churning up with a hot, horrible feeling that made her chest start burning too. It made her desperate to know what Mom was doing, where she was, what she was thinking. It made her mad that she didn't know. It made her sad that Mom had left her. It made her scared that she wouldn't come back.
But it also made her scared that she would.
If she got to see her mom again, that would mean she was coming to pick Ai up from Hanazono. And if she was coming to pick Ai up from Hanazono, that meant she was taking her home. Imagining that made her chest feel all tight and heavy, like the air was too thick to breathe.
Missing someone meant you wanted to be with them again when you couldn't.
She wanted to see Mom again. But she didn't know if she wanted to be with Mom again.
She was still churning those thoughts over in her head when the familiar clatter of the mailbox opening reached her ears. She jumped up so fast she nearly knocked Glasses Guy off the couch with a startled 'oof' and bolted to the window.
Sure enough, there was the mailman, depositing a thin stack of letters into the box. She didn't even wait for him to finish putting them in before she whipped back around and made to race for the door. She was going so fast that her socks skidded over the floor and she almost went flying.
"Whoa, Ai-chan!" Glasses Guy shot up and off the sofa just in time to catch her and stop her faceplanting against the floorboards. "Careful, careful. No running inside, okay?"
Ai bounced impatiently on the balls of her feet. "But the mail-"
"Okay, okay. How about we go together? Nice and slow, no running."
The prospect of going to check the mailbox 'nice and slow' made Ai want to explode - or maybe for Glasses Guy to explode - but she bit her tongue and nodded. Glasses Guy gave her quick dip of his chin in return and stepped past her to open the door.
"Lead the way, then."
They walked - walked! - down to the front door together, Ai fighting the urge to bolt ahead the whole way. They went so slowly that by the time they were approaching the front door, one of the other staff members - a blandly pretty part-timer who always wore big hoop earrings - was already swinging it shut, stack of letters in hand.
"Ah, Tomoko-san." Glasses Guy said, doing an admirable job of pretending that Ai wasn't practically vibrating by his side. "Anything for Ai-chan today?"
Part-Timer Tomoko blinked at him in surprise then redirected her gaze to Ai, who had progressed past vibrating and was now outright bouncing anxiously on her toes. "You've got something coming?"
"So she tells me."
"Hmm." Part-Timer Tomoko shuffled through the small stack. "I don't think so..."
Ai's heart sank.
"Oh, wait a second."
Then it stopped altogether.
Part-Timer Tomoko pulled out a single envelope from the middle of the pile and held it out to Ai with a smile. "Here you go, Ai-chan. Sorry, I was looking for the wrong spelling for a second there."
Ai stared at it blankly. "...It's for me?" she said stupidly, not quite able to believe it just yet.
"Looks that way to me." said Glasses Guy encouragingly. He nudged her arm gently, prompting her into motion. She took the envelope from Part-Timer Tomoko and stared down at it with a mixture of disbelief and anxious curiosity.
It wasn't the kind of envelope she'd been imagining. Rather than a proper envelope with a handwritten address, it was stiff and crisp, addressed with printout stickers like the ones Mom used to get when she bought stuff online. There was a logo printed in the top corner that she didn't recognise, but what really mattered was that her name was printed in crisp, clear typeface.
It really was for her.
Gripped with a sudden, frantic urgency, Ai tore it open with such haste that the envelope ripped clean in half and the letter went fluttering to the floor. She scrabbled to snatch it back up and unfolded it as quickly as her shaking hands could manage. Her vision swam with unfamiliar kanji, grown-up formal language she couldn't even read let alone decipher. The only thing she recognized were two names - her own and her mom's.
She thrust the letter at Glasses Guy. "Read it!" she insisted.
Glasses Guy obligingly took the paper from her but he looked uncertain. "You sure?"
"Yes! Please!"
Glasses Guy and Part-Timer Tomoko exchanged one of those Grown Up Looks, like they knew something she didn't and weren't sure whether to tell her. Glasses Guy cleared his throat. "Okay. If you're sure."
He scanned the letter. Ai watched as his expression went through a whole bunch of different shapes. His brows bounced up and down, his eyes narrowed and his mouth which had been in a soft frown suddenly pulled tight and thin. After what felt like forever, slowly folded the letter back over and shot Part-Timer Tomoko another one of those horrible, knowing looks.
"Well?" Ai demanded, unable to stand it any longer.
Glasses Guy said nothing for a moment, but then - to Ai's great surprise - he held out his hand for her to take. "Ai-chan. Why don't you come with me and we'll go to the office and have a chat about it? Okay?"
A pit opened up in her stomach.
The staff office was usually off limits to the kids, since it had all kinds of important paperwork and private things in there. You could only go in if you had one of the adults with you and in practice, that was usually because you were about to get a talking to.
"...Am I in trouble?" she asked, her voice wavering slightly.
"No, Ai-chan. You're not in any kind of trouble." Glasses Guy said gently. "We just need to talk about this letter. That's all."
She hesitated for a moment longer but Glasses Guy was still holding out his hand for her to take so she reluctantly reached out and slipped her hand into his. They made their way back down the corridor, Glasses Guy leading while she trailed along after him and her stomach sank lower and lower with each step.
If she really wasn't in trouble...that must mean that whatever was in the letter must be bad news.
Really bad news.
The staff office was a small, cramped space tucked away down one of the corridors behind the stairs. It was full of boring adult stuff like filing cabinets and potted plants that no one ever watered and smelled faintly of dust and stale coffee. There was no one else inside, to Ai's mingled relief and alarm, and once Glasses Guy had guided her to one of the chairs, he pushed the door shut behind them. Not all the way, but just enough that anyone coming along would be able to guess the room was in use and not interrupt.
Ai sat down in the chair Glasses Guy had led her to. It was much too big for her, so her feet dangled well above the ground. She kicked them restlessly, watching as Glasses Guy sat himself down in the chair opposite and tried to prepare herself for whatever bad news was about to come.
Maybe her mom needed to stay in prison longer than she'd thought. Maybe she'd done something else bad and now she wasn't allowed to see Ai ever again. Maybe she was sick. Or hurt. Or maybe she was even-
"Ai-chan."
Glasses Guy's voice shook her out of her spiraling thoughts. He was sitting forwards in his seat, elbows on his knees, hands clasped loosely together. She clenched her fingers tighter around the arms of the chair.
"That letter was from your mom's lawyer."
"Lawyer?"
Glasses Guy nodded. "Yeah. Do you know what lawyers do, Ai-chan?"
"Like in court." she mumbled. "On TV."
"Sometimes, yeah. Sometimes they help people with talking to the police or the government, or sometimes they help people sort out problems between each other."
"Okay."
"Did anybody tell you why it was your mom might need a lawyer to help her out?"
Ai stared down at her lap. "She did something bad." she muttered. "So she went to jail."
Glasses Guy shifted uncomfortably. "That's right." When she risked a glance upwards, she saw he was wearing one of those uncomfortable grown up expressions again. "The idea was that you were going to stay here until your mom was ready to come and collect you."
A horrible cold feeling spread out from Ai's chest. Of course she knew that's how things were supposed to be going - it was basically the only thing the social workers who'd come to pick her up at the house had actually explained. For Glasses Guy to be going over it all again like this...
"Is Mom not allowed to come and pick me up?" she asked, voice very small.
For a long, long moment, Glasses Guy didn't say anything at all. Just kept staring at her with that horrible grown up expression that she hated. Then finally he let out a sigh and leaned forwards to take both of her hands in his. "Ai-chan." he said and his voice was so, so gentle that it made Ai absolutely sick with terror. "Your mom's lawyer sent that letter to tell us that your mom has gone missing."
Ai stared at him. "Missing?" she repeated uncertainly.
"Yeah." Glasses Guy squeezed her hands. "They can't find her right now. That's why she hasn't come to get you yet."
"But... how can she go missing in jail? Isn't she locked up?"
Glasses Guy's expression flickered and his mouth went all tight and thin again. It took another few moments for him to speak and when he did, his voice was laced with some sour emotion she couldn't figure out. "Not anymore. Your mom was released from jail a little while ago. But they haven't been able to find her since then."
Everything suddenly felt very far away and fuzzy. Like she was listening to Glasses Guy through a really thick layer of cotton and her chest felt very cold and tight.
"When?" she managed.
"November 25th, the letter says."
November 25th.
One month before Christmas.
Just three days before her birthday.
Glasses Guy was still talking but Ai couldn't her any of it. It was like there was a roaring sound in her ears, drowning out everything else and her face felt hot and tingly. That cold, tight feeling in her chest had spread all the way through her body and her fingers and toes were starting to feel numb and prickly. She had the sudden, vivid sensation of not being quite tethered to herself anymore, like she was floating somewhere up near the ceiling and watching all of this happen to somebody else.
Suddenly, she felt Glasses Guy's hands squeeze tight around hers and it brought her back down to Earth with a bump. He was still talking to her - saying something about the police looking for her mom and how she was sure to turn up - but she didn't want to listen anymore. She couldn't.
"Can I go to my room?" she blurted out, cutting across him.
Glasses Guy stopped mid sentence. He studied her closely for a moment, brow creased with worry. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather talk about this some more, Ai-chan?"
She shook her head rapidly. She was so full of the desperate desire to be anywhere that wasn't sitting here and listening to more of this that she was rocking back and forth in her chair. Glasses Guy sighed softly and patted her hand. "Okay. Okay, Ai-chan. Why don't you go upstairs and I'll come by to check on you later, okay?"
She was out of her seat and halfway to the door before he'd even finished speaking.
This time, he didn't bother telling her not to run. Probably because he knew there wasn't much point.
With everybody else at dinner, there was no one to stare or scold her as she sprinted up the stairs and nobody to stop her when she crashed into her room and slammed the door shut behind her. She threw herself face down onto her bed and wrenched the covers up over her head in the hopes that anyone who looked in on her would assume she was asleep and leave her alone.
In that warm, quiet darkness, her mind was whirling so fast she thought she was going to be sick. She could hear Glasses Guy's words echoing in her ears, over and over and over again.
Your mom's lawyer sent that letter to tell us that your mom has gone missing.
Missing.
Part of her wanted to cry - needed to cry - but her eyes were dry and her chest felt too tight to sob. She settled for screwing them shut tight and focusing on breathing instead. As she heaved air in and out of her lungs, the whirling in her head didn't quite slow but the feelings swept up in the noise slowly became less opaque. She'd never been any good at pinning down her feelings - or anyone else's, for that matter - but right now they were coming through with such vivid intensity as if demanding to be recognized for what they were.
Misery. Fear. And a deep, face-burning sense of shame that she had been stupidly sitting around day in, day out, waiting for a letter that would never come. Worrying about her mom, hoping she was doing well, that prison wasn't too scary - and all the while, Mom was running off somewhere without even a word to tell Ai where she was going.
Stupid.
Stupid.
Something sharp-edged and hot dammed her throat for a second. It was sudden and unfamiliar enough that it took Ai a moment to recognize it but once she did, it came surging up from her belly in a rush of burning, choking anger. All of it pointed at her mom - for leaving, for vanishing without so much as a goodbye. She drew her fist back and drove it hard into the pillow beneath her. The impact made a satisfying thump, but it also hurt her knuckles and made her eyes water. She hit it again and again, hoping that with each strike the awful, writhing mass of feelings inside her might lessen somehow.
Instead, it just got worse.
By the time she finally let her hand fall limply to the bedspread, her vision was blurred with tears. She flopped over onto her back and glared up at the ceiling, frustrated and miserable and utterly, completely wretched. The tide of rage that had been swelling inside her rolled back and as it did, it turned inwards.
Maybe she should've expected things to turn out this way.
It was her own fault, she realized.
She'd known for a long time Mom probably didn't like her much. She was a weird kid and she didn't fit in with anybody - not at kindergarten, not at elementary school, none of it. Kids her age thought she was creepy and adults thought she was difficult. Since Mom was a grown up, it made sense that she'd think the same thing. It was why Mom was always so unhappy whenever it was just the two of them - maybe she was disappointed she'd ended up with a weird kid like Ai. Maybe she was jealous of the other moms Ai would sometimes see coming to pick up their daughters from school. Whenever she saw them turn up, even if they looked busy or like they were in a rush, they always smiled so nicely whenever their daughters came hurrying over.
It'd never been like that with Mom. In fact, the only time she'd ever really seen her mom smiling and happy was when one of her boyfriends was around. Those times, Mom would laugh and smile and be so wrapped up in her boyfriend that Ai might as well not even have existed.
Maybe...
Maybe that was how Mom had wanted it.
The thought made Ai feel a little sick. She screwed her eyes so tightly shut that lights burst behind her eyelids but her head was still whirring. Her brain was so full of thoughts that it felt like her skull was about to split open. Mom had always been so happy with her boyfriends because she loved them. Loved them enough to make her smile and laugh and want to spend all her time with them. She'd tell them over and over, even during fights or even when they were breaking up... so her mom must have really loved all of them a lot.
Ai wasn't like that at all. She wasn't cheerful enough to make her mom happy too or smart enough to make her proud. She was just Ai - moody and sulky and always causing trouble. No wonder Mom preferred to hang out with her boyfriends.
The horrible thoughts continued to swirl in Ai's head. So many of them, one after the other, that she was starting to feel a little dizzy. Maybe this was why Mom had let herself get arrested. Because she'd really rather be in jail than be stuck looking after Ai. Or maybe she'd run away to live with one of her boyfriends, or she'd found one she loved more than Ai and decided to make a fresh start with him instead.
Or...
Or maybe she...
The thought threatening to surface in her brain was so hideous that she didn't want to let it come to completion. She tried to smother it, to beat it back with all the other angry, scared thoughts swirling round and round in her head but it refused to be quashed. Instead, it kept coming back, again and again, pushing its way to the front of the crowd until Ai could think of nothing else.
Maybe she'd never loved Ai in the first place.
A small, sharp sound escaped her lips as if the thought had physically struck her. Her eyes flew open and she stared up at the ceiling, wide eyed and breathless, the pounding of her heart echoing so loud in her ears that she almost didn't hear the knock on the door.
"Ai-chan?" It was Glasses Guy. "You awake? Is it okay if I come in?"
Ai didn't move. She didn't say anything either - she wasn't sure she could speak right now without making that horrible little sound come out again. She wanted to send Glasses Guy away, to tell him to leave her alone, but the thought of being left to sit in this room alone with all of her terrible thoughts was so unbearable that she couldn't bring herself to do it.
Glasses Guy hesitated for a moment longer, but when she didn't answer, he spoke up again. "I'm coming in now, Ai-chan. If you want me to keep out, just shout."
The door opened with a soft creak and Ai squeezed her eyes shut again, fighting to keep her breathing steady as Glasses Guy entered the room. She realized that her face was probably red and blotchy so rather than let him see it, she wrenched the covers back up and over her to make sure only the top of her head was peeking out.
She heard Glasses Guy approach her bed and stop beside it. There was a long pause in which he said nothing at all, and Ai lay as still as she possibly could. Just when she was starting to think Glasses Guy might leave, he cleared his throat.
"Ai-chan," he said in a soft voice. "You okay in there?"
She absolutely, definitely wasn't okay but she didn't want to tell Glasses Guy that. She pulled the covers tighter over her head, screwing her eyes shut and nodded vigorously. But she still didn't speak.
Glasses Guy sighed softly. "Okay," he said. "I'm gonna sit here with you for a little bit. You don't need to talk or anything. Just know that I'm here, yeah?"
Ai nodded again, even though Glasses Guy probably couldn't see it under the covers. She heard him settle down beside her and then there was silence. She stayed exactly where she was, eyes screwed shut and trying to ignore the horrible whirl of thoughts and feelings that were still circling her head.
After a few moments, she felt Glasses Guy's hand rest gently on the top of her head through the covers. "It's okay to be upset," he said softly. "Nobody's gonna tell you you're wrong for feeling sad."
Ai's throat was suddenly so tight it hurt and she was glad Glasses Guy couldn't see her face right now. She kept her eyes shut tight, focusing on breathing steadily. The hand resting on her head was very warm and Glasses Guy was quiet. She knew without having to even think about it that Mom had never sat like this with her and she'd certainly never stroked her hair or told her everything would be okay.
Something inside of her chest splintered.
"Did Mom hate me?" she whispered, more to herself than anything.
Glasses Guy must have heard her all the same, because she felt him stiffen. He was quiet for a moment, then his hand moved to squeeze her shoulder. "No, Ai-chan," he said. "She didn't hate you."
"Then why didn't she want to pick me up?" she burst out. Suddenly, the words were tumbling out of her mouth and she couldn't stop them. "Why didn't she wanna spend Christmas with me? Or my birthday? How come she didn't even write me a letter? How come she didn't want me to be with her? How come-"
Her voice broke. She wasn't sure when she'd started crying but now the sobs came in big, ugly gasps, making her shoulders heave. The tears were hot on her cheeks and she squeezed her eyes shut tight to try and hold them back but they just kept pouring out. Glasses Guy didn't say a word. He just rested his hand on her shoulder and stayed there as she wept, a warm, solid presence that Ai was only dimly aware of through the haze of grief.
She wasn't sure how long she cried for. Long enough for her throat to feel sore and her head to start hurting. It was as though all the tears she'd been refusing to cry since the social workers had taken her away were finally demanding to be released all at once and she simply couldn't make them stop. She cried for the long car ride to this strange, frightening place, for the lonely nights in her room when she missed Mom so much it ached and for the endless days waiting for a letter that never came. She cried for her birthday, for Christmas and for all the ones to come that Mom wouldn't be there for. She cried for the days wasted on missing and worrying about someone who clearly hadn't cared about her at all. She cried for all of it, every bit of it, until she'd finally wrung herself dry.
When she finally ran out of tears, her head was aching, her throat was raw and her face felt hot and sticky. Glasses Guy had said nothing, but at some point during her storm of tears, his hand had moved back to her head and now that she had quieted, he stroked her hair gently.
"Ai-chan?" he said softly.
"Mm."
"I'm not gonna tell you you're wrong for feeling the way you do. I'm not gonna tell you you shouldn't be upset or that you shouldn't be mad at your mom either. All of that is okay." His voice was so, so gentle that she thought she might start crying again. "I'm just sorry you're hurting right now. And I wish I could make it better. But even if I can't right now, I promise me and everybody else here will try our absolute best to make things easier for you. Okay?"
Ai swallowed. Her throat felt tight and sore. Her head was pounding, but Glasses Guy's hand stroking her hair was soothing enough that she was starting to feel a little less shaky. "Okay," she whispered.
"Good girl. Do you think you can come out from under there? It's okay if you can't."
Ai hesitated, but after a moment she nodded. Glasses Guy's hand left her head and she heard him get to his feet. She stayed under the covers for a second longer, just in case, then slowly peeled the blankets back. She hadn't realized how stuffy it'd been under there until she poked her head out into the cooler air outside her protective cocoon and she had to blink rapidly to clear her blurry vision. Glasses Guy was standing beside the bed with a sad, warm expression on his face that wasn't quite a smile but still managed to look kind.
"There she is," he murmured. "Hey, Ai-chan."
"Hi," Ai mumbled. Her throat still felt tight and she was pretty sure she sounded like a frog but Glasses Guy didn't seem to mind. Instead, he reached down to pat her head again.
"I'll go fetch you a glass of water," he said. "And when you're ready, we'll see about getting you some dinner - there's still a sandwich with your name on it."
He gave her head another pat, then headed for the door. Ai watched him leave, and when he closed the door behind him, she stayed sitting up in bed and staring blankly after him. Her head felt weird and light - empty almost, as though crying had drained everything out of her. Her cheeks were still sticky with drying tear tracks but she didn't bother trying to wipe them. In the quiet and the absence of anyone but herself, the part of her that all her tears had been dammed up in began to slowly fill up again, bringing with it all of her earlier emotions, but softer this time, like they were diluted somehow. As if her crying had washed something clean.
Her mom... had left her.
She was still upset and angry. And that hideous thought that her mom had never loved her to begin with... even letting herself think it still stung. But it wasn't as piercing as it had been before. There was a small, fragile something in her chest that felt lighter for having cried.
She let herself think about all the things she liked about Hanazono - and all of the things she'd dreaded returning to if her mom had actually come to pick her up. That tiny, fragile something in her chest grew just a little brighter. Like this, sat alone in the calm and the quiet, it felt tired and it felt sad, but it also felt... okay.
She pushed back the covers and slid her legs out of bed, moving slowly and a little awkwardly as she did. Her head was still pounding but it eased just a bit as she gradually crossed her room and made her way over to the window. Just like downstairs, the cold from outside leeched in through the glass and Ai shivered as she pressed her hands against it.
Outside, it had finally begun to snow. She watched the flakes drift down to the ground, big and fat and fluffy, settling like feathers onto the grounds below. A few of the kids who'd already finished dinner were outside playing, laughing and shouting as they chased each other through the white carpet that was beginning to blanket the courtyard.
Ai watched them for a while, resting her forehead against the cold glass. She wondered whether it was snowing where Mom was too - wherever that was. She wondered if Mom was looking out at that snowfall and thinking about Ai, too.
But she probably wasn't.
It felt like the snow was gradually piling up inside of her, too - cold but somehow soft, gently easing the sharp edges and painful corners of all her hurt feelings. Like it was burying all of her sadness and anger so that the only thing left was this new feeling Ai couldn't put a name to. She tried to find one anyway, tracing her fingers lightly over the icy glass as she searched. It was sad and it was lonely and it was fragile too, but at the same time, it felt like something she could wrap around herself to keep herself together. She didn't know what to do with it - with this weird, unfamiliar feeling that was both heavy and light, dull and bright all at once. But as she watched the snow fall, she realized that she wanted to hold onto it.
It wasn't okay. But for now, maybe it was okay enough.
She stayed there, leaning against the window and watching the snowfall until there was a knock on the door. Glasses Guy's voice came from the other side.
"Ai-chan? I've got your water here."
Ai pushed away from the window, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. "Coming," she called - and she was surprised to hear just how steady her voice was, even as it sounded so scratchy and raw. She padded across the room to open the door and Glasses Guy's face lit up when he saw her.
"Hey there," he said. "Feeling any better?"
"A little," Ai mumbled, accepting the glass of water Glasses Guy handed her. She took a sip as he studied her with a thoughtful expression on his face.
"I'm glad," he said after a moment. "Dinner's still on the table if you're up for it. Or I can bring it up here, if you're not-"
"No." said Ai, surprising herself again with the sound of her own voice. She hadn't expected herself to speak at all, let alone so firmly. "I'm coming downstairs."
Glasses Guy looked pleased. "Okay then. I'll go get your food laid out and you can come down when you're ready. Take your time."
Ai just nodded. Glasses Guy flashed her a quick smile and headed off down the stairs, leaving her hovering in the doorway of her bedroom. She took a moment to finish the rest of her water, then set the empty glass down on the bedside table. She still felt a little unsteady and a little unsure, and it was tempting to crawl back into bed and stay there - but didn't want to close the door on that soft, snowy feeling she'd found at the window. She still wasn't sure what to do with it but she didn't want to let it melt away just yet.
So she took a deep breath and made her way back to the doorway. Once again, she hovered on the threshold but this time, her hesitation was different. Words bubbled up from somewhere inside of her and though she didn't know why, she found herself saying them out loud all the same, softly and quietly.
"Bye, Mom." she murmured, the way she'd said it a thousand times before whenever she left the house. "See you later."
And then, with those words hanging in the air behind her, she shut the door and started down the stairs.