Chapter Text
What is the first thing you think of when somebody mentions family to you?
Stereotypically, you think of a nuclear familial structure. Happy parents, happy children, all content within each other's walls. Mutual respect between children and adults, with their wishes and ambitions always being respected.
Now, to say Touya Aoyagi envied that would be an understatement.
To his father, Touya was just a vessel to fulfill long lost ambitions under the guise of talent. A puppet tied up by strings, controlled until the strings could no longer withstand the weight of expectations. Once the puppet fulfilled its use, it was promptly discarded.
Cruel, right?
That was just his upbringing. Though, at times, he questioned if his experiences were real or just an attempt to seek pity.
Rather than mutual respect, what had festered in the Aoyagi household was mutual hatred. His father hated his attempts to break free, and in return Touya despised the way he was chained down. Somedays, in his distant childhood, he felt obliged to make classical music feel the hatred it caused him. But the melancholy tune of the crying piano always snapped him back to reality - the piercing pain in his chest always became too much to bear.
So, when people asked Touya "what is your father like?" , the same responses followed:
"We're quite distant because of his work."
"He works a lot, so we don't speak much."
"Ah, it's complicated".
That usually prompted people not to ask further. No use prying into the personal business of someone who clearly does not want to speak further.
Yet, what was nothing more than a quick topic of small talk for most, would hover over Touya's brain like a thunderous cloud for days at a time. Always striking him with lightning at inconvenient times, and always triggering panic in situations he needed to have sense.
Sometimes people told him to forgive.
Don't they get it?
Forgiveness is out of the question when your childhood was destroyed in front of your very eyes, by the one who was meant to guide you.
It had been days since the current thunderous cloud had taken residence in Touya's mind, and today was the day Touya feared it'd unearth his deepest anger.
After all, today was the first time he came face to face with his father during these moments.
A moment of eye contact made them both freeze, as Touya found his shoulders rose to the same level as his ears. A moment to assess his fears took place, and he released all tension chaining him to the floor. A moment to walk past his father, to accidentally bash his father’s side as he stormed away.
“Touya.”
“Yes, father?” Angered by the inquisitive response, Touya’s father grabbed him by the arm, forcing Touya to face him.
“Face me when I address you! I know you are recently in a phase of rebellion, but have you forgotten how to be polite?” His hand became attached to Touya's arm, forcing Touya into internal distress.
“...I apologise.” Forcing short-lived eye contact that made him wish to claw his eyes out, Touya stepped back slightly. An illusion of composure, rather than outward anger.
“Where are you heading in such a rush? To go see those friends of yours?”
“Yes, Akito and I were going to go to a café in town, and-”
“It was rhetorical, Touya. I don’t actually care for your freetime, so long as you’re not occupying up my space.” His hand detached from Touya’s arm, and Touya instantly clasped his free hand to the now free space. A grimace fell upon his face, one unlike him yet simultaneously long overdue.
“...if you don’t care for me or my time, why do you continue to keep me under your roof?” A mumble escaped his lips, instantly releasing pent up frustration from years of cowardice. Such a burning question had been long etched into his mind, and he had begged for answers as he had also begged to feel loved. Now, he was on his way to get both things he had begged for as a child.
“What?!” A gasp followed by a snarl, as his father nearly hissed at him from sheer rage. “You are ungrateful. You are so, so, ungrateful.” As the anger began to rise through his body, his father became red. A fire, growing darker and choking you more and more. And, with a fire, you expect loud screaming to follow. “After everything I did for you as a child, after I raised you and put all my effort into giving you those clas-”
“The classes of your old passions that you locked me to.” Touya spat those words into the face of his father, a man he had never recognised nor trusted.“I never had a say, father, not once did you ask for my opinions. I was lonely, I was isolated, I was sad. Yet you say you put all your effort into it? Does it truly take so much effort to care for your child?” His classmates always told him parents were compassionate. If parents were truly so compassionate, would they chain you to the piano keys and drain you until you appeased their needs? Until you met the expectations of those before you? Aren’t they meant to care, aren’t they meant to love you?
Touya’s father had never loved him.
He had seen love in people’s eyes before - Akito, Tsukasa, Saki, An and Kohane…
All his father held in his eyes was hatred for the once small boy stood before him.
“Don’t tell me how to raise my own child, you were fine until you met those people.”
“You mean I made friends, after you always forbid me from doing so?”
“Don’t speak back to me.” A sharp slap cut across Touya’s cheek, grazing him and throwing him back completely. His rhythm had been interrupted, and with eyes stinging from tears, he grit his teeth and bit back a sob. “If you truly hate living under my roof, Touya, then leave. I don’t need to call you a son if you refuse to behave like one!”
Tears began to rain down Touya’s stinging cheeks.
Initially not from pain.
From relief.
Then dread.
And then, finally, from pain.
Many thoughts ran through his mind.
Would he be safe, would he be free, would he be himself finally? This could’ve been a lie. An angered statement in the head of the moment. A dazed Touya approached the staircase, watching his every step to ensure he didn’t fall. Heavy body, heavy mind, heavy responsibilities. Nothing would be the same again after this, and he knew that, he really did.
Fear shouldn’t be an option, yet it still consumed his soul. He still had so many possibilities to consider. Not to be so impulsive, not to be so sudden - isn’t that the advice he would give to someone like An? So why did it now apply to him?
In truth, he had no idea if his father was entirely serious - but, assuming he meant it, Touya approached his wardrobe.
Years of memories, captured in photographs, teddies, and clothes. Trophies collecting dust on his shelf sang prayers, for they would finally see the light once more.
In a way, he was packing his younger self’s heart. The younger self that never had a say would now be able to spread his wings and fly free. His childhood was one that received pity. People looked at him differently, seeing him only as the scared child who had no freedom. Eventually, he grew to dodge the topic of his childhood, so people did not infantalise him when he had clearly grown far beyond that phase.
Yet, that was exactly how he saw himself right now. It would’ve been funny if it wasn’t so sad. A scared child, about to step into the real world. With nowhere to go, nothing to really do. Such terrifying freedom would always be the better option - who would willingly choose to be imprisoned by your ‘family’?
With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair and packed things that held sentimental value. Every trophy he’d earnt with his dear partner, the one who gave him a chance regardless of his past. Akito had always been there for him, and the many trinkets around Touya’s room proved just that. Alongside that lay small gifts from Kohane and An, like plush toys or pins; An had given him a trans flag pin once, without him telling them about his identity prior, so he cherished it while questioning her intuition. His wardrobe was stacked with t-shirts from shows, whether from participation or just spectating.
Everything meant something in this room, apart from the room itself. It belonged to someone who no longer existed. And soon, it would belong to no one at all.
After packing everything, he went to approach the door and bid farewell to his room. Before meeting the door handle, the door slammed open, throwing him back slightly from shock. His breathing grew in speed, only worsening once he saw who was on the other side.
“You’re really leaving us?” His mother, who's running makeup scarred her once porcelain face, glared at him. For a moment, Touya thought she was genuinely upset, and he let go of the bag's handle. Such a short-lived, fleeting sense of hope, instantly morphing into a suffocating regret.
He couldn’t breathe.
She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.
He couldn’t breathe.
Help
Help
Help
Help
Help
Help
Help
Help
What was she saying? He couldn’t hear anything she was saying. He could hear the rage. It flowed through his body through the floorboards and made him want to cry. He was crying. God, he was crying. But he couldn’t make out a word. It all went around his brain the wrong way, a scratchy noise that threatened to snap his skull in two. He didn’t even realise he’d clasped his hands to his ears so they wouldn’t bleed, until she threw him back and he tried to catch himself. Tears stung, the rage stung, his chest was blowing into a large balloon and she had the pin ready to pop it and leave him open and barren.
“Do you even love us?” Was the first thing he heard through the shouts, and it made his entire body ache. Not from the question itself, but rather the blades disguised as words thrown towards him prior.
And, in honesty, Touya had no idea how to answer the question. Neither response would appease her - ‘yes’ would be called lies, ‘no’ would receive more screams.
So, in a desperation to escape, he grabbed his bag, after a few attempts to grasp the handle, and burst out the door behind her. Hopefully the screams wouldn’t follow if he ran down the stairs fast enough, catching himself as he skipped a step and nearly fell down them all.
Things were said as he desperately put on his trainers and burst out the front door in a panic. Things he wished to never hear again, from voices that made him want to claw his ears out.
Panickedly flinging his bag over his shoulder, he continued to run in any direction, though he was unsure as to which. His body pursued an unknown destination, for his mind had no sense at that moment in time. People were judging him. Quite frankly, Touya didn’t care.
As long as he got far far away.
Eventually, after running, he wiped his eyes to see where he had taken himself to.
It wasn’t too shocking when you consider his options, yet he stared at the Tenma house in shock. Fear consumed the very core of his soul; he hadn’t spoken to either parent in ages, who knew if they’d allow someone who was now a stranger to reside with them? Though his fears outweighed his hopes, Touya swallowed down the nerves and approached the door, blinking rapidly to hide his tears.
Knock, knock.
“Hel-” Saki opened the door slowly, only to freeze when she saw a crying Touya grasping a bag with both of his hands. “Aoyag- Touya-kun…?” Without a thought, he collapsed into her arms and began sobbing. “Onii-chan! Quick, come help!”
To Touya, Saki’s arms felt like home, as did Tsukasa’s gentle tone that followed.
Finally, Touya knew he’d be safe.