Back to Normal ;; (Open, I suppose)

[Yukio Alexis LeBeau]

Loneliness was horrible. Not only did it plague one’s mind, but it also guilted him. Yukio knew he shouldn’t feel lonely. He had Espio, didn’t he? Of course he did! He had a wonderful lover that was a wonderful friend, as well. He was so sweet to him, comforted him when he needed it, which.. seemed to be quite a lot lately. Yukio had never known death, beyond in animals, and knowing one of people he held dear to him died... He was scared. Every dream brought something different, and though he was usually not so apt to blame himself, he knew it was all his fault. No, not the dying. Everyone died, he knew that. He simply hadn’t expected Ukitake to die so.. soon, so suddenly. He missed his words, he missed his comfort, he missed his.. tea.... which sounded strange even to him, but his tea was always soothing when everything was so chaotic, when Sorrow.... The point was, he was always there when he needed him, but, strangely, Yukio couldn’t pick out once that he was there for Ukitake. Was he selfish, or simply thoughtless? Or was he both? It was a sickening thought, that he could so easily ignore his friend’s needs in place of his own... He didn’t like the thought of selfishness, didn’t like the thought of heartlessness, thoughtlessness, bitterness.. ignorance... Dreams became callous and cruel. Thoughts became dark and winding, bitter... scared. He was dealing, slowly. He knew he’d be fine. The dreams would go away. He could sleep better then, stop studying just to get him off of his mind, to get his family off of his mind.. everything....

It wasn’t like he was going to the orphanage in the summer, right?

Not according to anyone else, he wasn’t. He knew otherwise. He received the letter just a few hours ago. His mom had started cheating on his dad, and they got a very quick divorce. Over the course of two months, the same two months in which he had heard nothing from no one in his family, his parents had debated who would take him. At first, at those words, Yukio had thought they were disputing over it because both of them wanted him. He had been so happy, strangely.. He hadn’t wanted to read further, as he had thought he had no reason to. It was obvious to him that they had worked something out, that he would simply exchange places. That was what most families did, wasn’t it? Yes.. it really was, and he knew that for a fact, but, his family just.. had to be different, didn’t they? He knew he had to keep reading, because there was more, and it was rude not to go on--after all, there was a chance he would need to know something. And so he did... Assumptions had a phrase, a phrase he didn’t wish to remember at the moment, but it was true. He wouldn’t be switched between them. He was to be given away... His older brother certainly wouldn’t take him in. He hated him now. His sisters couldn’t, financially. None of his extended family wanted him... No one.... He had nothing to his name now, even if he was assured that his schooling at La Campana would continue. No one wanted adopt a gay kid either, not even strangers. He was too old, he was too.... He just, wasn’t what parents wanted their kids to be. He was a cross-dresser. He danced ballet. He played piano, violin--he painted. He didn’t do sports, he couldn’t be molded, he couldn’t be changed. He would only live with any adoptive family for.. what, two more years? It was stupid.

He missed them so much, though. He missed the noise, he missed the yelling, the screaming, the arguments. He missed church, he missed the snide comments, the glares and bad gestures. He missed crying every night because his brother kept insulting him, about everything his parents denied for so long. He knew they had to have suspected! They had to have thought, just for a moment, before he came out and told them! And here he’d been, in this school, trying to make his parents as happy as possible with him for his grades and himself, not for his orientation, not for his lover, for...for himself.... They had been so proud before... They had encouraged his dancing, his music, his painting. They had encouraged his study habits, his baking, his dressing.. well, besides the dresses and skirts. That, they didn’t like, but they hadn’t known, really. They hadn’t! But they had encouraged him in everything else, they had urged him on and smiled, so proudly, so brightly... He just wanted those smiles again... He just wanted that pride in their faces, whenever they looked at him. For the months after he’d told them, he hadn’t seen anything but disgust, but hate, and he’d felt so... empty. He had painted them something, tried to show it, with a grin of excitement, when he’d been told where he was going. La Campana Boarding School, in Barcelona, Spain. His.. His family was in France, was in Japan, not in Spain! He knew he’d be alone there, but he tried to please them, and accepted. Three years of boarding school would be enough for someone to accept his sexuality, right? No... They hadn’t wanted his painting. They hadn’t said anything about it. His mother had rolled her eyes. His father had started texting someone. He’d left it on the table and gone up to his room. It’d taken him six hours... he didn’t want it to go to waist. Maybe his little sister would want it?

He’d found it in the garbage the next morning.. So he had taken it out and held it to his chest, as if it would make him feel better. And the next day he’d smiled and ignored its place, hidden inside his room, under his bed, and he listened to insults, barred the ‘cock-sucker’, the ‘bitch, the ‘whore’, and he kept his tongue still at the slaps and the pulls, because he knew it’d all go back to normal soon. After he finished school, his parents would smile at him again, the yelling would lessen, the smacks would falter. The name-calling would cease, his brother wouldn’t hate him, his parents wouldn’t ignore him. His little sister wouldn’t bite him, pull at his hair. She wouldn’t tear up his pictures or ruin his ballet shoes. She wouldn’t hate him. And so he’d gone to school, a smile at the terminal, but they didn’t follow him in. They didn’t hug him. They didn’t want to touch him. And he’d allowed himself to frown on the plane. He’d allowed himself to be angry at school, to hate it, become bitter, but he couldn’t stand that long. He started enjoying this school, this insane school. He’d found someone so sweet as to want him, and wonderful friends that were always there for him to annoy. This school became a haven, and he still sent letters home, telling of good grades, of learning new songs and new dances, of wonderful friends, and even Espio, because certainly they understood--certainly they expected! They always replied shortly, words of empty pride, a ‘good job’, or ‘that’s nice’. He had believed them then. He didn’t now.

He wanted Ukitake back. He wanted his friend here again. He wanted.. a family again, someone to write back to. He wanted that pride again, he wanted... He didn’t want to go to an orphanage! And still, his fingers, it seemed, couldn’t press the keys quickly enough, hard enough to feel the pain. He couldn’t think of the tune, he couldn’t think of his school work. He couldn’t think of anything but that God forsaken letter, folded neatly beside the sheet-music he was no longer watching, no longer reading. And still, he couldn’t quite cry... He couldn’t. He had cried so hard over Ukitake. He had cried over the letter. But he couldn’t cry anymore... he couldn’t smile. He had to, though. He had to smile so that no one would know. He had to smile so no one would even suspect. He had to smile so that others would smile. Espio didn’t need his whining. He had other, more important things to worry about.. like his sleeping... Yukio wanted so much to help him, to get him pills, but.. he had no money, and he couldn’t call his parents to ask. They wouldn’t care. Oh, yeah, going to give him money for medicine for Espio, only so he could give him AIDS later, or something! Disgusting, disgusting.. He felt dirty, he felt lonely, but it didn’t matter right now. He had to make sure Espio was okay. He had to make sure LeBara was okay. He had to smile and push it away, because he was already pale, he was already sick. He couldn’t sleep. He had to work harder. If people saw his scores in school, maybe they would look passed his age, his orientation, his stupidity... maybe they would want him in their families... Maybe he would go to college, maybe he would have parents again.

And then.. everything would go back to normal.


(Song he’s playing: Big My Secret by Michael Nyman)