But its your fault?!

Asa Amaterasu is a japanese school girl who cant make friends until...

I never had any real friends. My name is Asa Amaterasu.I’ve only ever had a few people who felt sorry for me, so they pretended to be my friend. I always shut them out. Home life wasn’t any better. My mom had me when she was nineteen—she didn’t know anything about parenting. My dad left her shortly after I was born because he didn’t want his life to end so soon. He was a partier, just drinking and going to parties. He was found dead about two years ago—gunshot, that’s what the cops said.

Later, I got home from school. I never had bullies or anyone picking on me or rumors about me, I was just lonely. I couldn’t socialize. I enjoyed reading in my free time along with other normal teenage girl things. I wanted friends. I wanted to be normal. But every time someone got close, fear took over. I didn’t trust kindness. I didn’t trust people who stayed. Losing someone once was enough—I couldn’t survive losing them again.

The next morning started like any other: Mom making breakfast. We didn’t have a mom-daughter relationship, more like a friend who gives me a place to live, which some kids might like, but I don’t. I want a mom and a dad, but it’s okay… Once I finished breakfast, I got ready for school.

Nothing new happened that day, same day as always. At least I could learn and enjoy the bento my mom made me for lunch. Most kids ate outside unless it was raining or too cold or hot, of course. As I was eating, I saw her—Marin, the anime-loving, outgoing girl (not Marin from Dress Up Darling, you don’t own the name Marin, sue me). She was crying on the side of the building, far from view, but I could see her because I preferred to eat inside the classroom on the second floor. I wanted to go talk to her, but I couldn’t comfort her. What did I know? But I knew I had to at least try.

I cleaned up the rest of my lunch and went close to the edge to hear her crying, to make sure she wasn’t just high or crazy. I heard real tears and a video playing on her phone. I didn’t know what to do—was that her dead sister, cousin, or just some random anime character that died? But I knew I had to say something, so I walked up slowly. She turned around quickly, hiding her phone from view. Then she stopped crying, looked into my eyes, and hugged me, sobbing into my chest. I was shocked. What is she doing? Did I make her cry? Is she okay? I stood frozen until I told her, “Umm, Marin…” She kept hugging me for a long time and didn’t let go until she lifted her head up, losing her grip but not fully letting go. She said, “Who are you?” I was shocked. How could she say that? I mean, most of the girls don’t know me, but then why just cling onto me? I could be a creep or something. I looked at her and said, “I’m Asa.”

She then apologized and explained how I just looked like her dead sister that just passed. Creepy. “Here’s my number, just come over later.” The rest of that school day she stayed close to me. I didn’t even know I had her in almost all my classes. After school, all I could think about was this is crazy. Why does she want me to go? Is she using me? Why did she just hug me? After school, I went home to change into some sweats and a tee shirt. I wasn’t sure what to wear to Marin’s house. I didn’t want to show up too classy—this is the first time anyone invited me over. Could she want to be friends or is this just a setup for a prank? I didn’t care and went anyway. When I got there, I noticed it was just her and her mom living together. I wonder what happened to her dad—did he die normally? Anyway, she invited me to her room, where I sat on her bed and she sat next to me. We talked and played a few video games. I loved it. I never hung out with friends like this before. It was time for dinner, and I could tell they were staring at me. Marin’s mom looked at me more than at her food. She looked like she was crying, probably from her daughter’s loss—she died when a drunk truck driver hit her. Wow. Later, I finished dinner, thanked her for the meal and prepared to leave before I felt Marin’s arm holding me back. Her mom pulled her back like a child. I wonder if that’s what grief did to her. I wouldn’t know—I didn’t meet my dad ever, so I didn’t cry when he died. Marin’s mom looked at me and said, “Sorry, she’s been like this since her sister Miyuki died.” With that, Marin’s mom hugged me longer than normal, with tears in her eyes. As days passed, I got closer with her family and I really liked it. I didn’t tell my mom and she didn’t really care where I went. I just told her I was with a friend.

One day I came back from school to find my mom cuddled up with some guy I’d never seen before. He was about six foot, wearing a wife-beater, with black hair, slim build. I could tell he was bad. His name was Akio. “Mom, who is this?” I said. Akio looked annoyed. “He’s my new boyfriend. You just know, since your dad died years ago, I’ve just been feeling lonely.” I didn’t have time for her midlife crisis.

So I changed and went to Marin’s place. At this point, I think they started to treat me like Miyuki, but I didn’t mind too much. Yeah, it was a bit weird, but it was with a nice, healthy family I loved. We played family games, went shopping, and did other family things I never got to experience with my mom—she was always working or just at home. That day, I went home, but on my way I saw a cat. I had always wanted one, but Mom never let me get one. Now with Akio there, I definitely can’t get one.

When I went home, I saw something new: Mom had a bruise. I didn’t think it was Akio at first, since I had just met him and didn’t know what he was like, but it looked like it. When I questioned her about it, she sent me to my room. I was scared, because I knew if Akio hit her, what’s stopping him from hitting me—a smaller target? I knew I had to leave, but not yet, because I didn’t know if he’d hit her. For all I knew she could have just hit her eye on the door or something. I just brushed it off, saying it was just me overreacting, and went to bed. Things with Marin started working out better. She helped me get over my social anxiety—not fully, of course, but small steps. She was

my best friend.

That was a great thing, but then something weird happened at dinner. Mom dropped a spoon when Akio walked in.

“Sorry,” she said, too quickly.

He hadn’t even said anything yet.

Akio moved in like he’d always been there. His shoes by the door. His voice filling rooms that used to be quiet. Mom laughed more when he was around, but it wasn’t real. It was sharp, like glass. Sometimes I’d catch her watching him before she spoke, like she was checking the weather. One night I noticed a bruise on Mom’s arm. Yellow around the edges, like it was already trying to disappear.

“It’s nothing,” she said before I even asked.

I wanted to believe her. I really did.

So I did what I was good at. I stayed quiet. I stayed small. I pretended things were fine.

They never are.

That’s when I heard the front door open—it was Akio. I turned off my room light to make it seem like I wasn’t there and leaned my head against the door, hearing what they were saying.

Mom: “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Akio: “Wait, baby, I can’t help being angry.”

Mom: “You hit me.”

Akio: “It’s your own fault for not listening. I work so hard, just for you to say some shit to make me mad.”

That’s when I knew.

Akio was a domestic abuser.

I slowly walked away from the door, trembling, crying. I hid in my closet. I was scared. My mom wasn’t a bad person; she didn’t deserve this. She wasn’t the best mom, but she wasn’t mean or uncaring. I cried myself to sleep that night. When I woke up, I got ready while Mom was making breakfast. I could tell she was scared; she was careful, not smiling. Maybe she’s hoping if she doesn’t mess up, he won’t get mad. As days passed, I never got close with Akio. Sometimes he would yell at me, but he knew if he hit me he would go to jail with a charge of harming a child—and you don’t want to know what they do to them in prison. I wasn’t home a lot after he moved in. I mainly stayed at Marin’s, only going back to sleep, change, or when I had to. My mom didn’t notice he was changing her. I could tell she got more mad at me and warned me not to say or do things that might upset him. He would sometimes get mad at me for dumb stuff, like not being lady-like with my sweatpants and tees. I hated him and what he did.

At least things with Marin and her mom got better—kind of. They got clingy. I knew they were not dealing with the loss well. They clung onto me like I was all they had left of her, wanting me to act like her, live in her old room, and get my hair cut like hers. That part I did, because it was cute, but I didn’t care because they still loved me like I was her. I didn’t want to go back to my mom. I never really talked to her anymore. Was she a lost cause? No, I had to save her.

One day I made a plan to send him away—record him hitting her, send it to the police, testify against him, and just like that, he’s in jail. So that night I got into position and took my stand. I was nervous—what if he saw me? But I knew I had to. So I waited. I knew he hated his job—he was like thirty, still assistant manager while the manager was like twenty. He took his anger out on her. So I waited until I saw it.

Mom: “Hey, dear, how was work? I made chicken and rice.”

Akio: “Bitch, you made that yesterday.”

He threw the plate, hitting my mom.

Mom (sobbing): “I’m sorry…”

Akio: “Clean this shit up.”

Akio walks away.

I had my video right there.

I had to hurry. I knew he would come back with his sob story about “I can’t control myself” and “I still love you.” I ran out of the apartment fast with my phone. I could hear Akio yell “Stop!” in the back. I didn’t. I ran to the local kōban (mini police station) and explained it and showed them the video. The two cops saw the video, called for backup, and had me wait in the small building with a female officer while they ran to help my mom. The backup came and took me to a larger police station where they questioned me. They asked me about him and her and stuff. After a while, my mom picked me up.

I smiled at her when we got home. “Mom, I did it. I saved you,” I said to her, hoping for a smile in return. She raised her arm and smacked me.

Mom: “You fucking dumbass bitch. He brought in more money for us. Now he’s gone. Do you feel proud? We needed it. Get the fuck out of my apartment,” she said in a rage.

I ran and ran away. I didn’t have anything on me, just my phone. I ran to a local park where I dumped the phone and ripped up the picture of my mom I had in the case on the back before going to Marin’s house. I knocked and she opened the door. I wrapped my arms around her as I sobbed. “Can I stay here, please? I’ll pretend to be anyone, I don’t care, I just can’t go back.” She hugged me back and said yes. That’s where I spent a few days. Later, my mom realized what she did and reported me missing. I hope someone helps her, but I can’t go back until I turn eighteen. I spent my days at Marin’s house with her mom. They never got over the loss of their daughter. When I turned eighteen, I left them too without telling them. I got on a plane and left Tokyo.

The end.