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Sometimes Genya wishes for death.
She sits quietly in the bottom of the shower, tears mixing with the water raining down on her as she prays to whatever God will listen to take her life. Something random, like a car accident or horrible fire. Something no one could blame themselves for, that everyone could eventually cope with and move on from. And Genya could drift away like a bad dream, little more than a distant memory.
It’s not like she wants to die, not really. She just doesn’t want to be a burden any longer.
No one says it, they are too kind for that, but Genya can always see it in her mother’s eyes when she asks for bandaids and new clothes and signed permission slips. The answer is never no, but always a tortured yes. A dulling of the eyes and a small, defeated sigh as Shizu grabs Genya’s favorite snack and puts back her own.
And so Genya learns to stop asking. To wear out her shoes until her toes begin to stick out and her mother finally looks at her long enough to notice. To let her favorite foods run out for weeks and give a dismissive laugh and shrug when her brother asks why she hasn’t added them to the grocery list. To pull her knees impossibly close to her chest and take up as little room as possible— and still feel guilty for what small space she consumes.
There is simply no space for her left in the family. Sanemi is the rock, the strong one who keeps them above water and handles every worry and concern. Teiko is the smart one, always excelling in school and sometimes even correcting Sanemi’s own lessons. Hiroshi is the brave one, the first to take on a challenge or, more often, be the one to catch the spider. Sumi is the kind one, always knowing the right thing to say or do to lift someone’s spirit. Shuuya is the funny one, throwing in a perfect joke at just the right moment to break tension or to further lighten a room. And Koto is the sweet one, barely a toddler but already so loving and caring, always reaching out his tiny hands for affection and warmth.
Genya is nothing more then an incarnation of her mother’s pain.
So she shrinks into the background. She stays out too late and comes home after dinner, lying as she says she ate at a friend’s house. She plucks shoes out of the dumpster and pretends they don’t squeeze her feet too tightly. She learns how to forage her mother’s signature. She never asks for anything, never raises her voice above a whisper. She doesn’t complain when her birthday passes by without a word. She becomes a perfect ghost.
Sanemi notices, of course he does. He tries to pull her out, to make his own self smaller so she might have more room, but he has five other siblings to care for and Genya has always had her mother’s stubbornness. Those same calloused hands from years of hanging onto something that has never wanted to stay. Even when Shizu runs her fingers through Genya’s hair it scratches her skin and leaves her aching.
Her mother tries to be kind sometimes, when the house is quiet enough for her to hear her eldest daughter’s breaths and the load on her back is light enough to carry one more burden. She brings a bowl of fruit to Genya’s room randomly, murmuring that she got her favorites. Genya smiles and doesn’t mention the lack of watermelon. The strawberries turn to ash in her mouth.
They go dress shopping once, when Sanemi insists on her going to the school dance even if it is with the “Kamado brat.” Genya pretends not to notice the money he slips into their mother’s hands before she offers to take Genya to the store. She tries on countless dresses. Sometimes Shizu says she’s too skinny, that she’s so much taller than she realized, that she looks like her father. Not once does she say she looks beautiful.
Shizu doesn’t hate her, Genya knows, but her love has long since turned into a dull blade, slowly pressing into her daughter’s ribs. Genya does everything she can to soften her mother’s steel. She rushes to do the laundry, clean the house, wake the kids, dress them all, and have breakfast made before Shizu even opens her eyes. She bottles the blood that has pooled at their feet and plates it right next to the eggs and rice.
Eat me. Swallow me whole. Crush me into pieces and leave no remains, not even for the dogs. Let me return to you, to be safe inside you once more. Please just see me, mother.
She still says she is thirsty.