Ouma's POV:

The drive was long.

No one spoke to me the entire time, not that I had really expected them to. To them I couldn't speak, that's what it always seemed to say on any medical file at least. Instead, I was left alone to the background noises of traffic or the busy urban life that I had only glimpsed in movies. It was surreal, actually moving to a place like this.

But...it wasn't as if I never lived in a more busy area before. I paused as I tried to remember what it had been like living in Kyoto, but came up blank. Almost all of them were unpleasant memories anyway, back when my mother had begun drinking.

Yet I still remembered the day I met DICE clearly, yet as the sounds of the city continued a thought finally occurred to me.

I was going to my mother's childhood home.

She never talked about her childhood openly to me, the only real thing she ever explained was she met my father while she was still in school. She never even admitted to dropping out, I had to pick out the pieces of her life story myself.

It was so strange when I realized most people's mothers were more than two-decade older than them, that most people's parents seemed to be married or have their fathers in their lives. Sixteen years, I would be just a year older than she was now when she ran away. She must've run away at least, why else would she have lived in a tiny apartment to herself?

Why didn't my father stay-

She ran, she ran and...well if she never bothered to mention still alive turns out grandmother to me, then I had a bad feeling about her.

Did she even want to get to know me? Or even knew she had a grandchild? She must have, right? Did mom stay long enough to give birth to me, right? Or did she just flee in the dark of night, and never explain why?

Aunt Mayumi never talked about her either, she never seemed to hold back on complaining about the people she hated though. She could go on for hours about my mother, even if she was in the room with her.

But she also never mentioned my grandmother.

I kept trying to reason with myself that the lack of mentions was a good thing. That I had somehow misunderstood that conversation on Christmas, that my aunt just not mentioning my grandmother didn't mean she hated her. That means they must've had a good relationship, right? Or at least neutral...because if Aunt Mayumi hated her so much she would never utter her name...

I gripped my jacket sleeves tightly trying to calm down, I missed the sounds of the ocean or the docks back home. I missed the noise of the neighborhood's children, I even missed the burnt smell of food from my mother's house.

She never could cook much other than breakfast food, but I would eat her burnt tonkatsu any day now.

The car stopped.
My breath hitched.

The door opened and I heard the officers fumbling with my wheelchair, and as soon as it was set out I quickly situated myself.

I hated how I had none of the layouts to this place memorized, and that I would likely not be able to for at least a few days. The officers didn't seem to care much about my annoyance at my lack of independence, as they rolled the chair up and knocked on a door.

The door opened, and I smelled old woman perfume, the smell of every department store's perfume that made the area almost gagging to be in. It almost reminded me of Tsuki or Riko, and how the two thought wearing perfume would make them seem more mature, yet all that happened was Nao making jabs at how the smell was killing him.

The bittersweet memories almost made me smile, till I remembered why I was here.

"Oh good, he's here!" A woman's voice cheered happily, I froze in place and tried not to panic when she hugged me without warning her fingers were ice cold. The embrace was tight and I felt the air getting knocked out of my lungs, I panicked not sure how to respond. Even when I was younger I hadn't liked hugging people or physical affection, would it be rude if I did nothing? Or worse if I set a pretense I was ok with physical touch?

"Excuse me Osaka, sorry to interrupt but we'll need to do some paperwork before we can leave Ouma here," the officer said, saving me from the awkwardness.

"Ouma?" She asked, her voice tried to sound sweet but was laced with venom, I flinched when her nails dug in deeper in my back. I flinched as I tried to ease my way out of her grip, yet she only seemed to hold on tighter as I felt myself beginning to sweat panicking.

"Yes, you've heard his full name correct?" The officer asked concerned, "that will be the first things to change" she told him.

I couldn't move if I wanted to.

"Well, may we come in?" The officer asked, he seemed a bit more withdrawn, maybe even cautious as he asked as she let us into her home. The house carried the same perfume scent, as I found myself being left in what I assumed was the living room due to the plush furniture I could feel. Softly from a music player, I could hear some slow jazz and there were candles with some type of floral scent as well. I tuned out the conversation from the other room as I took a deep breath, I needed to calm down.

No one here knows me...maybe...maybe that will help...no one will dodge conversations around me or hide things...no one will harass me for being alive when I want given a choice...and I know I can handle being alone. Few months. That's it when I turn eighteen...when I turn eighteen I'll figure out what to do...

My optimism was short-lived as the officers left and the door closed and was locked.

Twice.

I noted the clinking sound of the chains and the sound of turning locks. It seemed there were two of each, yet it didn't seem like we were in a bad area of town so...I held my breath in anticipation, begging for my paranoia to be proven wrong. My heart beat faster when she returned to the room and sat down on the couch next to me.

YOU STOPPED HERE

"Kokichi...right?" she asked, I nodded carefully not sure how to respond. I felt her twirling a hand through my hair, it made me feel uncomfortable but I didn't say anything trying to ignore the growing anxiety within my chest. "Last time I saw you, you were just an idea...you didn't even exist yet..." she commented. I didn't respond, how could I respond to something like that?

"Did you know about me?" she asked suddenly, retracting her hand as I paused unsure before shaking my head. Honesty would help at least, right? At least this way I won't have to risk lying something and her catching on? "I didn't think so...your mother was always one to hold a grudge," she said with a sigh, as she began to hum to the music. The music had shifted to classical, I realized then I had recognized the song from my mother. She also used to hum a similar tune...

"Do you like the music?" she asked, her voice a sickly sweet tone. I shrugged, as she continued to hum along before sighing again, "your mother used to be a ballerina, did she tell you that? She used to dance so gracefully...she probably could have been a famous dancer in Europe...well I guess she still did dancing after she left...didn't she?" she asked, her tone turning more venomous towards the end. Ballet?  'She never told me much about herself' I explained before...she doesn't understand me, does she?

She didn't respond, that made it worse.

"Kokoro," she said finally breathing out my Mother's name in a long elongated sigh, as she took another breath and finally seemed to rest her old hand on top of mine. "She's dead, both of my children are dead, aren't they?" She asked, her voice didn't have any signs of grief though. I nodded because I didn't think she knew sign language.

She laughed, "mute are you?" She asked coldly, I nodded trying not to upset her.

"You know my bitch of a daughter once didn't speak to me for a week when she was just a bit younger than you...well I made sure she grew out of it fast, and you will to" she promised, her voice seemed to be gaining excitement at the prospect.

Someone help me.

"Ah...speaking of her...it's almost remarkable really" she commented as she grabbed my hair tracing and curling it in her long acrylic nails as I felt myself sweating, as she began to pull on it, yanking me to face closer to her as she grabbed my face her nails digging into my skin.

Stop it.

"You look like your mother...so much like your mother..." she lamented, "and she looked exactly like your grandfather...you know about what he did after your mother was born right?" She asked.

I shook my head hesitantly as she laughed dryly again.

"He left. Didn't even see your mother once" she said, "and you know what the worst part of that was?" She asked. I didn't respond as an unease spread through my body.

"She looked exactly like him." She said. "Your mother ended up exactly like him to, she was a coward. A coward who left her son, she could have had it all. She did have it all, a mother who loved her, a future, but she threw it all away for your father...no...no that's not quite right" she lamented her voice trailing off.

Her nails dug into my arm as I froze in place her grip only tightening, I trembled in fear.

"She threw it away for you" she said as she forced me out of my chair, my legs stuck in the braces made me cry out in pain as she undid the brace and kicked the chair as it clattered against the floor.

"You can't run as she did though, can you?" She asked cruelly.

She didn't need those two locks in the end.