It had… horns?

After her parents and Haru left, Mara found peace slowly returning.

She stood on her balcony taking in the evening breeze and appreciated the blood orange sunset view after she had given Shiro his food. She exhaled the day off.

Despite all the delicious food that her mother had brought, her father and Haru being there, it had still been tough. But it had all ended without a major catastrophe. Haru survived her mother’s advances and although he had just sent her a selfie of them together, her mother no doubt forced him to take. Surely so she could show him off to her church friends. The woman was impossible! Maybe she should have encouraged Haru to admit to his homosexuality. Perhaps then she would leave him alone.

Haru. Brave and reliable, Haru, always there to support her from the moment they met. Despite his own hardships. He really was the big brother, the best friend she always wished she had. Rah would’ve eternally remained in the shadows were it not for Haru. How could she ever repay him?

A flash of Haru’s expression came to her when he looked at her paintings. She regretted how she had handled. His questions were out of concern for her, she knew. Nevertheless, it was true that she couldn’t explain her dreams. She could never remember the boy when she woke up. More recently, some parts of him have remained; like his eyes, his sadness, his presence. This made her want to paint him.

Another deep exhale and she moved inside, brushing off the chilly breeze from her arms. Autumn was definitively here.

She intended to finish the work on those pieces, but tiredness crept in; perhaps the stress from the visit took more out of her than she expected. She curled on the small sofa with a blanket. Readying herself for a long night of work required a nap first.

Before long, she dozed off, letting her mind drift to unknown dreams.

It was after school.

Mara wasn’t aware of the time anymore, though it was already dark. Her thighs and bum were numb from sitting on the floor for so long. No one walked through here, the isolated area behind the school’s gym. This was where bad things happened.

Eyes red and puffy, she attempted to wipe her tears, but these had no intention of stopping; she pulled her hair to cover her cheeks. There was blood after she scrapped her chin and elbow when they pushed her down. She couldn’t call what had happened a fight. They were three against one. How can that be a fight? She could still see them laughing at her every time she cried out; How funny she must’ve sounded.

Oto-san would say things like ‘lift your head up and stand tall. You’re better than they are.’ How could she feel that way? It was so humiliating.

This time she fought back; hard. But it always ended the same way. And all the things they called her were true and unchangeable. She was a *Hafu, and she was deaf. What was the point of fighting? Was it to prove otherwise? Mara lowered her head. More tears, more ache.

‘You’ve torn your sleeve.’

The sobbing continued.

‘Ooi! Helloo!’

Nothing.

Through watery eyes, she noticed black shoes in front of her. She lifted her head and saw the boy right in front of her. Instinctively, she retreated.

‘Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.’ The young man smiled as he attempted to placate her retreat. He reached for the top of his head, feeling for something. ‘They’re not showing.’ He then felt his ears and seemed more relieved. ‘All good here too.’

‘I’m all normal… like you. No reason to be scared.’ He said, bending down to her and showing his brightest smile. Mara read his lips, but he made no sense. She frowned and shook her head.

‘Are you alright?’ He asked.

Silence.

‘Ooi.’ — The boy waved in front of her face. — ‘Can you not hear me?’

Mara flinched as he approached. Did he not have a sense of personal space?! Confused, she just blurted, ‘I-I can’t hear!’

She expected him to be disgusted at the sound she made, but the boy seemed rather curious as he cocked his head, and said, ‘You sound strange. You say you can’t hear? Do you mean like your ears don’t work? It makes sense you sound that way then. If one can’t hear, they can’t hear their own voice, right? Yes, that would be why. How else would you control your voice?’ — He nodded to himself, pleased. — ‘Is that what’s making you sad? Er… you can’t really hear me this way, can you?’

‘W-what do you want?’ She rushed; she wanted this over.

‘What do I want… Simple: I want to know why you’re bleeding. Why are you here alone? I’ve been trying to ask.’ He smiled.

Everything he was saying puzzled her. Why should he care?

‘Your eyes are really red. You’ve been crying.’ He looked at her closely.

She pulled back and stared at this strange black-haired boy and observed him properly for the first time. Maybe he was around her age, but he wasn’t wearing their school uniform. He wore black trousers and a long white shirt with buttons and a vest traced with a golden pattern; too well dressed. Was he one of those home-schooled rich kids that were never allowed out? It didn’t explain why he was here after school hours. Perhaps he ran away from home. She sighed; this wasn’t the to wonder about his issues. She made to get up, but her legs had gone numb and she struggled.

‘Here, let me help you.’ The boy extended his hand, but she waved it aside. She cleared the dust off of herself, collected her bag and made to leave.

‘Wait, you’re leaving?’ He said suddenly alarmed.

Not seeing him meant she could not hear him either.

‘Please don’t leave.’

That made her stop in her tracks. Trembling in shock, she turned to face the boy. His friendly but pleading expression remained in clear contrast to hers.

She couldn’t have been mistaken: she heard him speak.

*Hafu - (ハーフ, "half") is a Japanese language term used to refer to an individual born to one ethnic Japanese and one non-Japanese parent.