Post by Hitoshi Gilespi on Sept 16, 2010 1:14:30 GMT -5
The conversation with his uncle had hit Hitoshi hard -- and understandably so. He had a father. And more than that, his uncle and his aunt knew who his father was, knew that Hitoshi was in his classes, and didn't tell him.
Forgiving Rivienne was easy. She kept quiet out of duty to her family. He could remember times, when he was much younger, that he'd asked her about his father. She would always look pained, and change the subject. And it was very, very hard to stay mad at someone who was so much like his mother.
Forgiving Tristan... Tristan was his guardian, but he seldom acted like it. He sometimes stayed out until after they went to sleep, and was rarely home for dinner; he drank sometimes, usually late at night, when he thought no one was watching; and more than once, he'd been "busy" and "lost track of time" when he was supposed to pick them up from school, and Hitomi had to ask one of her friends to give them a ride him. (Hitomi had her friends' parents drop them off a few blocks away because she didn't want them to know she lived in a trailer.)
The one thing Hitoshi had thought he could count on, though, was that Tristan was always honest with him. Not that he didn't keep secerts -- Tristan had more than his fair share -- but when it came to the family, he never kept anything from Hitoshi, even when Rivienne believed that sharing was not in the family's best interest.
But this... How could he? Didn't he think that Hitoshi needed to know?
And as for Professor Yogo... Hitoshi didn't know how to feel about him. For all that Tristan said, it was clear that his opinion was horribly biased, and right now he was in a mood to disagree with anything his uncle said on principle. But that didn't change the truth: he had abandoned his mother. He'd moved to the other side of the country. He made no attempt to help them at all, while his mother struggled to raise two children while working full-time. And she never talked about the man, not even once.
He'd already told Hitomi enough; if she wanted to know more, she was more than welcome to talk to Professor Yogo. Hitoshi was sure he would freely offer up his pathetic side of the story, and Hitomi would offer him some sort of Father of the Year award for just existing. Hitoshi, for his part, had no intention of even looking at the man for the rest of the trip. Which, granted, would be much easier if he didn't have to share a room with the man.
He certainly couldn't go back to his room right now. Even if Professor Yogo had left -- which was probable -- he would still have to see the man's things casually strewn around the room, like he'd lived there for years. He'd left his cellphone in the room, as well, which meant he had no way to contact Alex.
So instead of doing anything useful or enjoyable, Hitoshi sat in the floor of the third floor men's room, his knees hugged to his chest, staring at the marbled tile. He was still barefoot, dressed in flannel pajama bottoms and a black t-shirt from his middle school science club. His long hair was still a tangled mess, and he was fairly certain that he'd forgotten his room key, which mean he couldn't get back into the room even if he wanted.
This certainly wasn't the worst day of his life, or even the second worst, but Hitoshi was fairly certain it was somewhere in the top five.
Forgiving Rivienne was easy. She kept quiet out of duty to her family. He could remember times, when he was much younger, that he'd asked her about his father. She would always look pained, and change the subject. And it was very, very hard to stay mad at someone who was so much like his mother.
Forgiving Tristan... Tristan was his guardian, but he seldom acted like it. He sometimes stayed out until after they went to sleep, and was rarely home for dinner; he drank sometimes, usually late at night, when he thought no one was watching; and more than once, he'd been "busy" and "lost track of time" when he was supposed to pick them up from school, and Hitomi had to ask one of her friends to give them a ride him. (Hitomi had her friends' parents drop them off a few blocks away because she didn't want them to know she lived in a trailer.)
The one thing Hitoshi had thought he could count on, though, was that Tristan was always honest with him. Not that he didn't keep secerts -- Tristan had more than his fair share -- but when it came to the family, he never kept anything from Hitoshi, even when Rivienne believed that sharing was not in the family's best interest.
But this... How could he? Didn't he think that Hitoshi needed to know?
And as for Professor Yogo... Hitoshi didn't know how to feel about him. For all that Tristan said, it was clear that his opinion was horribly biased, and right now he was in a mood to disagree with anything his uncle said on principle. But that didn't change the truth: he had abandoned his mother. He'd moved to the other side of the country. He made no attempt to help them at all, while his mother struggled to raise two children while working full-time. And she never talked about the man, not even once.
He'd already told Hitomi enough; if she wanted to know more, she was more than welcome to talk to Professor Yogo. Hitoshi was sure he would freely offer up his pathetic side of the story, and Hitomi would offer him some sort of Father of the Year award for just existing. Hitoshi, for his part, had no intention of even looking at the man for the rest of the trip. Which, granted, would be much easier if he didn't have to share a room with the man.
He certainly couldn't go back to his room right now. Even if Professor Yogo had left -- which was probable -- he would still have to see the man's things casually strewn around the room, like he'd lived there for years. He'd left his cellphone in the room, as well, which meant he had no way to contact Alex.
So instead of doing anything useful or enjoyable, Hitoshi sat in the floor of the third floor men's room, his knees hugged to his chest, staring at the marbled tile. He was still barefoot, dressed in flannel pajama bottoms and a black t-shirt from his middle school science club. His long hair was still a tangled mess, and he was fairly certain that he'd forgotten his room key, which mean he couldn't get back into the room even if he wanted.
This certainly wasn't the worst day of his life, or even the second worst, but Hitoshi was fairly certain it was somewhere in the top five.