A soft *cling* rang out in the room as Dad's spoon hit the edge of his plate. He stared at me, mouth open, before letting out a strained giggle.
"Hihihi, where is this coming from?" he asked.
I calmly shook my head. "It isn't anything serious. I just… thought that it was about time I started thinking about this stuff."
Dad opened his mouth, but I cut him off. "With Hoshino graduating soon, it made me realize that it's going to be me soon, too. So I thought it'd be better to start thinking about my future now."
When I finished, a heavy silence settled over the room—until it was broken by the sound of a soft chuckle from behind me.
Both Dad and I turned towards the sound. Mom didn't make eye contact with us as we did. She just kept her gaze on her hands as she wiped them with a towel.
"That's great and all, Lily," she said, each syllable crisp. "But do you think you can even do it? I really think you should try going for something you have a better chance at."
My nails dug deeper into my palms as a familiar burning fury bubbled up in my chest.
You wouldn't be saying that if it were my Brother, would you?! I bet if it were him, she would be jumping for joy and bragging about it to the whole family!
But I took a deep breath, then gave her a smile.
"Yes, Mom. I know it'll be hard, and that I'm not smart enough the way I am right now—" I paused, my voice dropping an octave. "But I swear that I'm going to do this. So just be quiet and watch."
Mom set the towel on the counter and looked me in the eyes for the first time all morning. Her gaze was warm and gentle, yet oppressive in a way that made me tense—but I held it with my own.
Static crackled in the air between us.
Dad's hands lay frozen on the dinner table as his eyes darted between Mom and me, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to decide whether to stay quiet or say something.
The one who broke the silence wasn't Mom or Dad—it was me. I let out a soft giggle, lightening up the mood.
"You don't have to believe me right now. Instead, I'm going to prove it to you over the next two years I've got left in high school."
Mom's gaze lingered on me for just a moment longer before her shoulders dropped, just barely, and she turned back to the stove, breaking eye contact with me.
"Fine, do whatever you want."
I couldn't help but be a little surprised, but I didn't let it show. I was expecting more resistance, more of a fight—yet she gave in so easily.
I didn't say anything as I sat there, expecting some sort of follow up.
...But she didn't say anything else after that. It was… over. Just like that.
No—that wasn't it.
She still didn't believe in me, she still didn't trust me. She probably thought I was just some little kid spouting unrealistic dreams.
But that was fine for now.
The fire that swirled in my chest narrowed into a single point—hardening and evolving into something almost tangible.
Because I'm going to prove her wrong.
Suddenly, the sound of someone clearing their throat cut into my thoughts.
My eyes quickly refocused until I saw Dad holding his hand out to me.
I glanced between him and his hand, my eyes wide.
Usually, whenever Mom and I—or Mom and Brother—fought, Dad just watched from the sidelines. It wasn't like I could get mad at him for it. It was hard not to feel cornered when the person you were fighting was Mom.
That was why I couldn't believe what I was seeing right now. Seconds must have passed since he held out his hand, and yet, even though I'd wasted so much time, he didn't pull away.
I glanced at his face once more. He hadn't looked away from me since this started—and his face hadn't changed. He still had this warm, patient, yet obnoxiously childish grin.
Before I even realized it, my hand moved on its own and took his. He squeezed back. The instant he did, it felt like a weight lifted off my shoulders, and I sank into my seat.
He opened his mouth and spoke in a calm voice, yet I could still feel that familiar hint of childishness.
"If this is what you want to do, Lily—then I'll support you with my whole heart."
A sharp breath caught in my chest before I knew it was coming. The corners of my eyes prickled, but I answered his voice with a firm nod.
"Thank you, Dad," I said, my voice trembling just a bit. "I'm going to make you proud. I'm going to make you think I'm the best Daughter ever!"
Dad's smile grew wider, reaching all the way to his eyes, crinkling them at the corners.
"Go for it. If you need help, just let me know—but not with school stuff. I'm bad at that."
I couldn't help but laugh. It was a terrible joke, but I still did. Seeing that, he did too.
Then, Dad let go of my hand and pulled out his phone.
"It's getting a little bit late. I think you should start heading out now."
I took my own phone out and checked. Seeing the time, I gasped.
I shot up from my seat, the chair scraping back, and ran to the front door—grabbing my bag off the kitchen counter on the way. Based on its weight, Mom had already packed my lunch.
As I reached the doorway, Dad called out from behind me.
"Make sure you take an umbrella! Also, I'll close the closet for you—so just grab it and run!"
"Okay!" I called back while sliding into my shoes.
I swung the closet open, grabbed the umbrella, then opened the front door. But before I stepped out, I called to Mom and Dad one last time.
"Bye-bye! I love you!"
I heard the start of my parents' response, but it was cut off by the front door closing from behind me.
I popped the umbrella open, then ran to school. I hated running—or anything that made me tired and sweaty in general. But, just this once I ran the whole way, laughing the entire time.
I couldn't tell you why.
***
Dad POV
I watched my Daughter's retreating figure as she ran out of the house.
Once the door shut behind her and she was gone from sight, I let out the long breath I'd been holding.
What a relief…
My thumbs moved slowly across my phone as I opened the location-sharing app and glanced at her dot. Based on how quickly she was moving, she must have been running.
It shouldn't have been a big deal, but a soft chuckle slipped out of my lips at the sight of it.
I'm glad… that I was able to support her.
I closed my eyes, my Daughter's words from earlier echoing in my ears.
"I'm going to make you proud!"
I couldn't help but shake my head.
No… I'm happy with you just the way you are. If anything, it is I who should be trying to make you proud.
I let out a small sigh and sank into the chair, replaying the words that my Wife had thrown at me that day.
…She was right. I have been doing nothing this whole time.
I'd known the whole time, but it was different when it spat to my face. And I'd been carrying those words, that guilt, ever since that day.
But… things have to change now.
I grabbed the spoon and continued eating my breakfast. By now, everything was cold. The rice was stale, the eggs were soggy, and the soy sauce had lost its lustre—but I didn't stop.
With each bite, my thoughts grew harder—firmer.
I can't face my family now—but I can face myself first. It's the very least I can do.
I lowered the spoon and glanced at my reflection.
I have been doing nothing.
I have been scared.
And worst of all…
I have done unforgivable things.
My grip tightened, causing the spoon to scrape loudly against the plate as I hurriedly scooped up another bite.
Maybe I could've used that fear as an excuse if it had only been my Son—but now it's my Daughter too.
I scarfed as much food into my mouth as I could.
They're both changing—both growing. So, as their Dad…
I scooped up another bite and bit down; my teeth aching as they met the hard, metallic spoon.
I can't get left behind.
Sure—maybe I can't stand up to my Wife.
Maybe I can't say or do the things that I'd want to with them.
But at the very least, I can support what they want.
I set the spoon down on the plate. The plate was empty. Not a single trace of my breakfast remained. Or at least—that was how it should have been. But there was one thing left over...
I won't get discouraged anymore.
I won't be afraid anymore.
I'll take it one small step at a time.
A single grain of rice sat at the very edge of the plate.
I don't care if it takes me another five years—or even a decade.
I could've picked it up and eaten it, but instead, I carried the plate to the sink and set it down.
I can't atone for my sins.
But at the very least…
Then, I got into the car and started the engine. It revved, the smell of gasoline plaguing my nose. Even so, I took a deep breath.
I can become someone whom they can look forward to talking to today.
With that newfound resolve, I reversed out of the garage and headed for work.