Chapter Text
FRIDAY, April 8
REN
Cloudy/Cloudy
Waxing Crescent
Ren's life has never belonged to him. Not really. Before now, he thinks he did a pretty good job at pretending it didn't bother him.
His parents' expectations were always clear. Some of his earliest memories are of them laying out what, exactly, they want from him. What they want the public to see of him, at least, and who he is allowed to be.
He knew the rules when he was younger. He knew what he was supposed to do to stay in line. It took him a while to figure them out, yes, but as he got into high school he had a solid grasp on what the lines were in the house. What his parents expected, what was considered an unacceptable deviation, and what he could expect for being less than perfect.
He thought he was doing the right thing. He thought stepping between that woman and the man who was grabbing her was the right thing to do. He still thinks it's the right thing to do, if he only has to admit it to himself.
When he has to talk to anyone else, though, he has to talk about the consequences. About the social and personal shame he has brought on his mother and father and how he has made their lives so much more difficult by acting out, by engaging in delinquent behavior.
He has to be remorseful, publicly. And then he has to say that it wasn't right to stop someone from getting hurt.
The silence in the house is quieter in his room. With the door closed, his parents go about their lives while he goes about his. And for the last few days, his life has been focused on getting his things packed and sorted.
He's donated some things and thrown away others. Even so, he has some things he has to leave behind.
Models he built in middle school. Planes, rockets, and other models that he would spend the precious few hours he got after doing his homework to build and paint in meticulous detail. They won't fit in his bag, and even if they did he'd be heartbroken to see them break on the way there.
He has one large box of things packed to send ahead of him. He has a few things packed to take with him and have on arrival, just in case of delay.
Besides, all he has of his guardian for the year is a name. Sojiro Sakura. There's nothing about him online except an interview he gave about his cafe. No presence that Ren can find and look into, nothing to give Ren any clues about the kind of man who is going to be watching him for the next year.
He's taking this probation seriously. And the last impression he needs to give is that he's somehow neglecting it or being frivolous through it.
And looking at those models, he has to believe that's what Sakura would assume if he saw them. They take up time and space and they don't speak to a serious student or a serious individual.
Isn't that what his father had said about them when Ren started high school? That he had better things to spend his time on, and if he didn't then he should join a club to find something better?
So, the models will stay here for the year.
Ren is a sixteen-year-old boy who has never met Sakura and who has an assault record. He will be lucky if Sakura doesn't immediately treat him like a criminal, much less if Sakura gives him any semblance of leeway.
The best Ren can hope for is that Sakura's rules and expectations are clear. Ren assumes he won't have much room for error. There won't be forgiveness if he doesn't abide the rules Sakura sets.
Explicit and implicit ones.
Ren freezes when his door opens. He kicks himself for the hesitation, though, as he turns around.
"You will get the money needed for your train ticket. After that, you're on your own."
Ren nods. "Yes, sir."
"You will get a job and provide for yourself."
Ren nods again. "Yes, sir."
"These are the consequences of your actions."
"I understand, sir."
Ren's father scoffs. "If you understood, you wouldn't have gotten yourself in this mess in the first place."
Ren stands still until his father leaves his room and closes the door behind him.
He looks around. He knew this was coming. His mother had alluded to it, and his father had been bitter and angry with him since the arrest. It's the natural consequence, making Ren provide for himself for the probation year.
Making him miss the benefits of the life they gave him. That he 'spit on', as his father has taken to saying.
He glances around.
He knew this was coming, and he still donated so many things hoping it wouldn't turn out this way.
He looks at the game system on his dresser. He was hoping to take it with him. He could hide it in his bag and find somewhere to put it in his room so that he wouldn't open himself up to ridicule from Sakura-san.
It feels like he's becoming the delinquent everyone thinks he is, though, when he thinks about hiding things from Sakura from the start. Like he's doing exactly what's expected---what he isn't supposed to be doing and hiding it in the process.
He could sell it, though. Get some extra money to tide him over until he can find a part-time job. The secondhand store won't close for a few hours yet.
Sakura-san might set a curfew, but Ren thinks he can work around that. That maybe, if he's smart about it, he can still make enough money to eat and afford his school supplies as needed. There's bound to be something, right? Something that's an afternoon job that pays decently. And he's not paying rent through the year, so that means his expenses will be laundry, train, food, and school necessities.
If he saves every spare penny, he could even start an emergency fund. It might be sparse, but it'd be something.
Ren knows what time his train leaves tomorrow. His father had sent him the itinerary a few days ago, once the tickets were bought.
The taxi will arrive at six for him. He'll be out the door before his parents even wake up. No one has to say good bye and no one has to pretend they have a happy family.
He leaves and they get a year of peace. A year to try and salvage their reputations, too, based on what he's overheard when his mother and father think he's asleep or not around.
He tries not to leave his room. And after tomorrow, he supposes, this won't be an issue. He won't be home, he'll be living with a stranger.
And likely hiding out in whatever room or space he's given there, so as not to create problems for Sakura. It only seems polite, after Sakura offered to house him for the year. Offered, despite not knowing him.
Offered, because an old college friend of Ren's parents knows him and was talking about him.
Ren doesn't know what to think about that. He does wonder what kind of person would invite a complete stranger into his home like that. Sakura has never even met Ren's parents.
Ren has never met the friend that told Sakura about Ren, but that doesn't say much. His parents lead one life he leads his own. And they were only ever supposed to intersect when Ren was able to bring them positive attention. When he would help their reputation, not hurt it.
Kitamura, his parole officer, has said he seems like a good man. That he's polite and he pays attention to the details of things. She says that he's a bit on the sterner side, but that she thinks he's a good man.
Through this whole process, Kitamura has been kind to him. She's doing her job, he knows, but she gives him some measure of grace.
She even got him a copy of the curricula he missed. He doesn't know what he will have to do for make-up work once he gets to Shujin, but he has gone out of his way to use his hours sequestered in his room to study the material at the very least. Trying to make sure he doesn't fall behind.
It's better that way. Keeping to himself and working at keeping his grades up. His record will seal when his probation is done, but that might only raise questions.
He needs everything else for a college application to be as near to perfect as he can get it.
Ren packs the system up. It will be a nightmare to carry to in his bag, but that's just how it's going to have to be. Otherwise, he's got no way to get it to the secondhand store.
He's going to miss his bike, but he doubts he'll be able to use it much in Tokyo, anyway.
There's part of him that's more than a little excited to be moving to Tokyo. As much as he knows he has to prioritize work and his schooling over everything else, he's excited. It's Tokyo, when he's never left Inaba.
His school trip this year was supposed to be to Tatsumi Port Island. The same place every second year trip goes to. It's been something to look forward to for the last several years, as much as it was something predictable.
He doesn't even know where the school trip is going this year. He doesn't know what to expect of it, and there's just something about the number of unknowns.
As excited as he is, he's also nervous. Anxious and terrified in a way he doesn't think he's ever been.
Ren is quiet as the secondhand store owner looks over his game system. It's in near pristine condition, despite the hours he's put on it. He's done everything in his power to maintain it and keep it running.
The man behind the counter has known Ren since he was a little boy. Since he was a child.
He gives Ren a side-eye when he starts appraising the system.
Just because the law made it so journalists couldn't publish his photo didn't mean people didn't find out who he was. His mother has a tendency towards dramatics, for one, and for another it's a small town. There's nothing to stop her from spreading it around town because she feels the need to publicly decry her own son.
"I can't give you much for it. . ."
Ren takes what he's offered. It's a few thousand yen, so it's something. It might get him groceries for a few days, at least, and that's something.
"Thank you, sir."
The man waves him off and tells him to get out.
Ren isn't surprised, but he does wonder if he'll ever really feel welcome here again. Inaba is a small town. The people here have long memories. He remembers when one of the neighbor girls got pregnant in high school and the way her story was brought up for years afterward, including when Ren was starting in high school.
People don't forget things easily here.
That's a problem for after this year, though. For when Ren is coming back to Inaba, after he's had a year away.
Maybe the anonymity will be good for him. He isn't sure, but. . .
He locks his bike up and then slips inside. It smells like his mother made food, and it smells good.
He stays close to the edge of the room and he makes his way upstairs. This routine is the same as it's been since his arrest. He knows to wait and get food after his parents go to bed.
The one time he had tried to get food at the same time, his father had made it abundantly clear it would not be worth his while.
Things are better when Ren stays out of their way. There won't be food left for him, but he can make something. There will be extra ingredients in the fridge and there will be time for him to cook something up.
He will probably have to skip breakfast tomorrow morning. He would rather not skip dinner tonight, too.
When he does go down, his mother is still sitting at the table. She has a teacup in her hands, but there's no steam coming off of it. She just watches him as he goes about making his dinner. No words are said. No communication, because she hasn't been able to bring herself to speak to him since his arrest.
Ren's father has always been the one to handle discipline. His mother. . . silence is her way. She doesn't want to say anything, she doesn't want to acknowledge the problems.
When Ren disappoints her, he's not worth talking to. That much, at least, has always been consistent. Ever since Ren was a child, that much has stayed the same.
Ren tries to ignore the feeling of her eyes on his back. He keeps his eyes on his cooking, knowing it won't taste great, but it will be food. It will be something in his stomach the night before he leaves home for a year.
It will be the last time he gets to cook in this kitchen until he comes home. And he's not really sentimental about the kitchen. But this is the house he grew up in. He's never moved before.
He always thought the first time he moved, he would be moving to go to college.
She walks up behind him. Ren tenses, but keeps his hands moving and his focus on his dinner.
The faucet turns on. The sound of a cup being put in the sink.
His mother walks out of the kitchen, leaving Ren alone with his meal.
It tastes bland. He seasoned it, but he didn't really pay attention to it. And he isn't really paying attention as he eats to the flavor of the food. He's just. . .
He's hungry and he needs something to eat. And he might not eat until late in the day tomorrow, if he gets a chance to get groceries and eat tomorrow to begin with.
He washes his plate before he goes to bed. It's going to be a long day tomorrow with an early start. It'd be best if he got to bed as soon as he can.