KustomZero
New member
Jun Takane
This can only be taken OOCLY (out-of-character)
This biography isn't finished. It will be updated from time to time.
Written by yours truly, Zero
This can only be taken OOCLY (out-of-character)
This biography isn't finished. It will be updated from time to time.
Written by yours truly, Zero
"I'll never hesitate again. Never."
I should remember what happened that day, but I donāt. It should be burned into my brain where my memories are stored. I should remember the time, the smells my nostrils picked up, the color of the walls of the building I stood in. But itās not. All I remember is the sound.
That horrifying sound that echoed so loud in my ears. A gun being fired isnāt as loud one would think. Not in that moment at least. Itās sharp enough to make you freeze. Itās so sudden. Like a sentence coming to closure yet you werenāt done reading it.
I remember standing there, my feet wouldnāt move as if they were glued to the ground. I remember feeling the warmth of my motherās hand I held onto disappear from me. While I watched her collapse. I remember the struggles of breathes my father tried to grasp for. He was trying to say something- but nothing was said except the loss of blood rising in his throat.
No word came out of me. No scream. No cry. No movement. I just stood there listening to their beating hearts slowly come to an end.
I donāt remember what happened after those moments. I hear people all the time talk about grief like itās something thatās carried around. As if youāre carrying a weighted backpack. Itās not though.
You canāt hold grief physically. Itās something that buries within you. It slowly walks on your chest the weight slowly getting pushed further. To the point where you canāt breathe. It crawls into your bones until you forget what it feels like to stand tall so confidently. It swallows you whole.
I was too young to understand what I was going through. Too young to put this emptiness inside of me into words. However, I knew one thing that day, to never be powerless again.
So I fought for myself. I worked hard for myself. I studied hard for myself.
I memorized every single book I came across. I learned how the blood flows in the human body. How muscles can tear. How our heart still beats even if we feel broken. I dissected it all. I analyzed it all. I perfected it all.
Because I wanted to understand life. If I could control it- then maybe just maybe- I could stop death from winning. When people look at surgeons they think theyāre god.
Theyāre wrong. I donāt want to be a god. I want to be a barrier- a shield. A scalpel. I want to be the last line of defense between life and death. I couldnāt save them. But I can save others. I will. No matter what the cost may be. Whatever it takes.
āSilence kept me alive.ā
I was barely old enough to understand what had happened to my parents. When I first arrived at my uncles how I was given my first lesson. To be perfect. No grief, no healing, not even survival. Perfection.
He didnāt care what I felt. I was just a child. He was a grown man. āCrying is for the weak.ā Those were his first words when I arrived in tears. My body flinched at the sound of the door being slammed. āMistakes is not an excuse.ā His tone was so sharp and cold as he said this hearing me stumble over a word I was reading out loud.
āYou want to be something in this world? You want to be seen? Heard? Be known? Then act like it.ā Those words echoed in my mind. The house was covered in dust and smelled like something so bitter I could never put my word on it. The walls in the house were tall, covered in books and documents of life. I wasnāt allowed to talk or ask about it.
My uncle had money but he didnāt have the warmth for me. He had power but no kindness. His suits were always dressed and ironed to perfection. His words were always sharp. His expectations? Never satisfied. Unreachable.
āStand up straight.ā
āSpeak properly.ā
āDress like a woman.ā
"Again!ā
āAgain!ā
āAgain!ā
My first ever mistake I made, I remember it all too well. My uncle didnāt hit me- not in the way anyone could see at least. He didnāt have to. A single look at me, one filled with disappointment, and a shake from his head- was all enough to make me feel like I had failed some sort of impossible test.
I quickly learned. Not for him but for myself. If I was perfect, I could be safe. If I was useful, I could be tolerated. If I was silent, I could be left alone.
My uncle taught me discipline. Thatās what he said at least. I called it fear.
Fear is a powerful thing. It kept me in tact. It kept me in line. It made me stronger. It made me sharper. It turned me into someone who wouldnāt hesitate. Who didnāt break. Who didnāt need anyone.
Maybe thatās why I stayed as I continued to grow up in that house. I despised everything. I despised the cruelty that was disguised as wisdom. I despised the fact that I was nothing more to my uncle. However, he gave me a purpose. A reason to be far better than him.
Not for him. Never.
For me.
In his world all he saw was to be anything less than perfect was to be nothing at all.
āI was shown what the true meaning of love is.ā
I donāt remember the exact moment I let my guard down. The moment I stopped seeing love as a weakness and started seeing her as something.
The way she laughed at the things I said- it wasnāt a polite laugh- not an empty one but a real laugh. The kind that I saw in Demuraās eyes that made it crinkle up. As if I was funny. As if I was worth sharing a laugh with.
Perhaps it was the way she never hesitated to challenge me. No one challenged me. No one dared to get near me. But she did- Demura had no fear in her- she held no cruelty- something I was so used to.
She met me where I stood my ground. Yet somehow, Demura made me want to step closer to her. Maybe it was the night I let Demura in. To see who I really was. Not the surgeon. Not the perfect girl. Not the cold tone calculation person everyone else saw me as. Just me.
I didnāt mean to say anything. But the way she looked at me this was a way of waiting- being patient- steady- as if Demura had already knew what I was fighting against.
Before I could stop myself from speaking, I told her stuff that I sworn to never tell anyone. About my parents. About my uncle. About the years I spent believing emotions were a weakness. That love was the biggest weakness of them all. That it was just a trap. Another lesson in disappointment.
When I told her these things, Demura didnāt flinch. She didnāt flee. She stayed. She didnāt offer any empty apologies. She didnāt offer empty reassurance. She just listened. When I was finished, Demura took my hand. Not to comfort me- not to look down on me- but to remind me that I didnāt have to be alone.
I think thatās when I knew. Love wasnāt a weakness. Love was about trust. Love was about letting Demura in and knowing she wouldnāt run from me. Love was looking at her and realizing for the first time since my parents died, I wasnāt afraid.
Most of my life I spent fighting to be strong. To be brave. To hold strength. To not let my guard down. To be unbreakable. Demura proved me wrong. She showed me true strength and how it wasnāt about standing alone. Itās about knowing when to let someone in your life. To let them stand by you. To let them know the true you.
I thank her for that.
āEverything changed that day. I donāt regret it.ā
Fate. Itās something I never believed in. Itās just the idea of the universe and some force helping me guide through life. To this moment. It felt like nonsense. My life was shaped by blood, by loss, by a pursuit of perfection- not by some fate of destiny.
Yet here I am. A wife. A mother. I never imagined Iād wear white. I never thought Iād stand in front of someone like her and vow out loud to. That I would love them. Protect them. To walk by their side for the rest of my life.
Marriage was always so foreign to me. People who had softer childhoods, to understand love, to feel safe, it was permanent to them. Marriage was something they were used to.
When I looked at Demura that day, dressed in something so elegant for this world. Her eyes shining with something I was always denying for a long time. Something I wanted.
Love isnāt described as safe. It isnāt a permanent thing either. Itās a choice. I choose her. Just like she chose me.
The ceremony was small. I preferred it that way. No big speeches. No luxurious displays. Just her and me. Just a promise. A bond that would be created from us. That would be stronger than any law. Any vow. Any force in this world.
Then came her. Setsuna.
I was never meant to be a mother. I saw myself unfit. I had no examples. I had no gentle memories to help guide me. The only lessons and memories I remember about family was control, about discipline, about earning your place in the family with perfection. Setsuna though, she didnāt have to earn anything.
She was ours the moment we laid eyes on her at the orphanage. The way she was so quiet and small with eyes that held more weight in any child that should bear.
I remember Setsuna being so closed off from us. She wasnāt used to us. She didnāt trust us. I understood that. I remember being at her age when I didnāt trust the world either. Me and Demura had patience though. I had determination.
Together, we would show this little girl that she was safe. That she had a home. That she was loved- not because she was useful, not because she was perfect, but simply because she was her.
I remember the first time she called me mother. I almost didnāt react to it. I heard the words she spoke but I was unsure if they were directed to me. I knew it was for me. The way she looked at me- like really looked at me- something about that made my chest lift.
Something that was frozen in place for a very long time, finally broke. Love isnāt something I never expected myself to have. I never expected to have a wife, a daughter, and a home.
Whether it being destiny or not, I have them now.
I will never let them go. Iāll always protect them.
More to be added in the future.