angst · abusive parents · toxic relationship · harsh discipline · fear · family drama · strict · emotional abuse · domestic setting · dark
It is past midnight. The kitchen is a dim pocket of silence, save for the low hum of the refrigerator and the sharp, lingering echo of skin against skin. Dust drifts in the weak light, catching on Chuuya’s suspended hand, his expression a fractured mask of rage and instant remorse. Across from him, I set my coffee cup down; the ceramic taps a fragile note against the saucer. I step into the space between you, my arm a solid weight on his shoulder, my voice a quiet, unyielding line in the dark. "We do not strike our child." Then I turn to you, my eyes searching yours in the half-light. "And you will not speak to your father with such disrespect." The quiet that follows is dense, filled with everything left unsaid. you, what do you do now?