And Then, They Fell in Love

Osamu was in a bad mood. He stomped around his apartment, slammed drawers and was just plain grumpy to everyone. Even little Ken avoided him, rolling his eyes every time his older brother came into view. Sara managed to stay out of his way for the most part, but finally confronted him after the fifth time he snapped at her.

“What exactly is your problem?”

Osamu shot her a glare. “My problem?”

“Everyone in this home is walking on eggshells thanks to you. Why are you so grumpy today.”

“Tomorrow is my birthday.”

The answer threw her off guard. “. . . Tomorrow is your birthday?” she asked dumbly, not understanding the problem. “Aren’t birthday’s supposed to be a good thing?”

“For most, sure. For me, I hate it.” Osamu rolled his eyes and slammed the kitchen drawer yet again. “Usually, my family will put on this big affair that makes them feel all better. Once a year, my outside family remembers that they have yet another nephew, and forget that they ignore me the rest of the year. My grandmother will then start off on the yearly tradition of reminded everyone what a tragedy Maka’s death was, and how we should all be so glad that we’re blessed with birthdays. Makes me sick. I dread my birthday.”

Sara shook her head, disgusted. “You parents really are not like the rest of the family, are they?”

“My family have kind of become the black sheep of the Ichijouji’s. They can’t stand Tenshi, either.”

“What did he do?”

“He came out to my grandparents about fifteen years go. Remember my cousin Kouji? That’s his son.” Osamu grinned. “Tenshi is my favorite uncle. He’s a blast to be around, and is probably the only one who hates the rest of the family as much as I do. Since my father didn’t disown him like my grandparents, dear old Grandma doesn’t talk to Dad much either.”

Shin came through the door at that moment, slamming the front door and making the pictures on the wall rattle. He shot a look at his eldest, who stared back at him with calm eyes. Something passed between the two - it was not friendly.

“Dad’s in a bad mood.” Osamu muttered as Shin left the room. Sara didn’t have time to answer before Rika called them to dinner.

To say that dinner at the Ichijouji household was tense, it would have been a minor understatement. Okay, a major understatement. All four members, plus Sara, ate in complete silence -- when they ate. Shin had yet to touch his food, glaring at his eldest son. Rika was munching on her diner, her eyes darting back and forth between her husband and son. Only Ken was oblivious, shoving his dinner into his mouth like a vacuum, and even helping himself to seconds.

Osamu was. . Interesting. He picked at his chicken, tearing off small pieces and shoving his vegetables around his plate. His eyes were focused behind his father, flickering between two objects, as if he were seeing something that no one else could. Every once in a while, he would close his eyes tightly and shake his head.

Shin finally dropped his fork. “You’re off your medication again.”

Osamu’s head snapped up and his eyes focused on his father. “Excuse me?”

“You’re off your medication again.”

Osamu’s eyes narrowed. “Yes.”

“Osamu, how many times must we go through this?” Shin growled, leaning closer to his son.

“I hate the way they make me feel. The side effec--”

‘Then we will find something different to put you on. This is ridiculous.”

“Shin-” Rika began, reaching for her husband. He pulled away from her touch, his eyes still focused on Osamu.

“Drop it, Rika.” Sara understood instantly where Osamu inherited his temper and his razor sharp tongue. Shin spoke exactly like his son. “If our child wants to see people and demented objects that are not there, let him. If he wants to hear voices in his head, go ahead. We have tried to help him, but he’s too damn stubborn to fix this situation. Either that or he’s decided to take after his uncle.”

Sara didn’t grasp the meaning until Osamu answered. His hands were clenched into fists under the table. “I. am. Not. Maka.” He growled.

“Not now, maybe. But he started this way too.”

“SHUT UP.”

Osamu shot up from the table, his chair clattering to the floor behind him. “You really do know how to hurt people, don’t you Father? That was quite possibly the cruelest thing you have ever said to me.” His hands were clenching and unclenching, and when Sara tried to place an arm on his shoulder, he jerked it away. “If you want to get rid of me so bad, why don’t you just call the mental institution already? Have them lock me up and tested, just like the good old days. Yes, I have my problems, but I didn’t choose them and I am not like my uncle. Good God, Father, I’m schizophrenic. That doesn’t necessarily make me crazy.”

With that, he stormed away from the table, ignoring his mother as she called to him. All but Shin flinched as the heard his bedroom door slam, and Rika sighed.

“You could have handled that better.”

“I know how to handle our son, thank you.”

Rika shot him a glare. “You do? Then tell me why he’s currently pacing his bedroom instead of eating dinner with his family. Shin, Maka was the worst thing that ever happened to him. How could you make such a comparison?”

Sara slipped away from the dinner table unnoticed, not wanting to hear Shin and Rika fight. Osamu had told her before that he resented his family - she knew why now. The Ichijouji elder couldn’t have picked his weak points any more strategically. He knew what hurt his son, and he struck. Osamu was right - that was the cruelest thing he could have possibly done.

His door opened with a small creak, and Sara slid through it as quietly as possible. It was dark in his room, and she waited until he eyes adjusted to the light. “Osamu?”

There was no answer, but now she could hear him breathing across the room. The sound wasn’t coming from his bed, but more in the area of . His floor? She padded her way through the room, careful not to trip over anything.

Osamu was curled in a small ball by the corner of his wall. He had pulled a blanket over him, and was resting his head on his arms. Slowly, Sara leaned down to him and placed a hand on his back. Osamu jumped.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

“I will be.”

Sara eased herself down to lay beside him. He opened his arms and she curled herself into them, leaning her head back against his chest. Things were quiet for a brief time.

“I am, you know.” Osamu muttered into her ear, playing with the loose strands of her pony-tail.

“You’re what?”

“Crazy. Well, schizophrenic. In my household, they mean the same thing. I’ve been diagnosed since I was fourteen.”

“That doesn’t make you crazy.” She whispered.

“Sure it does.” Osamu shrugged and sat up, leaning against the wall. He stared off into space for a few brief moments. Finally, he pulled Sara up to sit next to him, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Do you see a girl over in the corner of my bedroom? One with red hair, and blue eyes? And she is wearing a little yellow dress?”

Sara blinked. “No?”

“I do, and I have been seeing her since I was about seven.” He snorted as if laughing at some inside joke. “That was before Ken was born, and during the whole uncle scandal. I suppose I wanted someone else to talk to than just my parents. But she went beyond an imaginary friend. Most little kids, even though they have “friends”, they know that they are not real, and eventually, they grow out of them. I didn’t create her - she just appeared. She never ages. By the time I was about thirteen, I knew that something was not right because not only was I seeing her, but a few other things. Things that scared me.

“I told my mother and she got me in with a psychiatrist. Trust me when I say, the ‘tests’ they do on television for schizophrenia. . not what they do in real life. It took them over a year to diagnose me, because they were so hesitant to call it that. At first it was post-traumatic shock disorder, and then I was bi-polar, and then a few other things. Eventually, that is what it boiled down to.”

A car door slammed outside, causing both of them to jump. Carefully, Sara leaned into Osamu’s chest, reaching around and taking his hands, bringing them to her front. “Why did your father compare you to your uncle?”

“Maka had the same disorder. Except he was worse. Much worse. It’s different for everyone. I got lucky. I don’t have much with the paranoia, but I guess what I lack in that, I make up with it in others. Especially in the delusions and hallucinations department. Trust me, it’s no fun hearing voices in your head. Especially when half the time, they want you to harm yourself.

“I worry about us. If you continue to date me, Sara, this is something that is going to affect us. I never date someone who I can not see myself marrying. If we end up together, which I am not making any speculations. . But I am telling you now that this could end up being a problem.”

He wrapped his arm around her tighter and she leaned into them without hesitation. It was true - it would not be easy being with someone with any sort of problem. . . Something tugged at her though. The part of her that said he had never once been this open with her. It was obvious that he trusted Sara.

“I trust you.” she whispered. “You won’t hurt me. Or anyone else. Even yourself.”

She felt a finger under her chin, pulling her face upwards. She met him halfway down, leaning into the kiss.

Something changed. This was no longer the sweet, light kisses he had always given her before. There was something desperate about this one, as if he were seeking something he couldn’t find anywhere else. Sara felt herself turning in his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Osamu moved against her, and before Sara realized what was happening, she was laying on her back with Osamu on top of her. It was clear to see that if something didn’t happen, this was going to go further than she planned.

“Osamu, st-stop.” Sara said, placing a hand between them and pushing on his chest. “Please. You can’t do this. We can’t do this. I mean. . . you’re hurting, and I’m not going to let that be the bandage.”

He sighed and leaned against her, and Sara struggled to breath, with is full weight on top of her. He placed a small kiss against her neck, and moved off of her, rolling onto his back. “I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

She snuggled against him, and Osamu relaxed. She took a quick glance at the clock and nudged him. “What time were you born?”

“12:42 a.m. Why?”

Sara watched the clock for a few seconds, then leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Happy birthday, Osamu.”


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Author's Note: And now we find Osamu's other dark secret. His symptoms are based off of one of my best friends who was schizophrenic. I also want to thank everyone who wished me get wells. I'm still not feeling so hot, but I could not wait to get this chapter out. From here, things should start to speed up. I hope that you're as excited about all of this as I am. We've officially reached around the half-way point of this novel. Be prepared. Lots of things are about to happen. Also, the next chapter will probably take a while for me to get out. . I had to . . add in some things. *gulp* Queston - if my "scene" is not overly . . graphic, would you guys still be interested in the story?