Chapter Nine: The Gathering Storm
1339 Words
Dinner smelled of ginger and garlic, the kind of comfort Akari usually loved. Tonight it turned her stomach. She slipped past the kitchen quietly, hoping her uncles wouldn’t notice.
“Akari?” one called after her. “Not hungry?”
She forced a smile over her shoulder, clutching her bag tight. “I’ve got homework.”
They didn’t push. They never did. She closed her bedroom door behind her and let the silence crash down.
Her books sat untouched on her desk. Instead, she curled into her bed, knees drawn to her chest, phone pressed to her palm. One unread text from Mimi blinked back at her: Call me if you need anything.
She didn’t reply.
Instead, she scrolled back through old messages—threads with Gabe, dumb jokes about classes, half-flirtatious comments that once lit her up. Reading them now, every word felt like ash.
He’d never meant them. Not really.
Her chest tightened. She pressed her face into her pillow and whispered the words she hadn’t dared say out loud:
“I hate you.”
But even as the whisper cracked, she wasn’t sure if she meant Gabe… or Aris.
Aris’s thoughts clawed at her until she couldn’t breathe. She needed an outlet, so she went down to the martial arts studio she and Akari had grown up in. Music pounded through the room as her fists hammered the heavy bag, sweat beading across her skin, kicks snapping sharp and precise.
What do I do to make her forgive me? Her knuckles stung with every strike. I didn’t steal anything from her, but the guilt won’t stop. How do I make her look at me like she used to? How do I make Gabe leave me alone? Do I have to stop being me just so she won’t hate me?
Upstairs, Akari heard the music shaking the walls. Curiosity—and something heavier—pulled her downstairs. She peeked through the cracked door, watching Aris move with flawless precision. Punch. Kick. Spin. Perfect. Always perfect.
Her balance slipped, the door creaked open, and she stumbled inside.
Aris froze, then rushed to her. “Akari?” She reached out and hugged her tight.
Akari went rigid, then pushed her off. The hurt flickered across Aris’s face, but she didn’t argue. Instead, her voice was soft, almost pleading: “Stay. Please.”
Akari stayed rooted, arms crossed, eyes down. The silence dragged. Finally, Aris broke it.
“I’m sorry. I know you think I took him from you, but I didn’t. I don’t want him. I never did. I don’t even… want anyone right now. And it sure won’t be him—not after what he did to you. I saw him like a brother. That’s all.”
Akari didn’t answer, her gaze glued to the floor.
Aris’s voice steadied, but her eyes shone. “I want us back, Akari. The way we used to be—loud, chaotic, laughing at everything. We let some boy wedge between us, and that’s not who we are. We’re blood. We’re halves of the same whole. I miss you.”
Akari’s throat locked. The tears came with the fury. “Why did it have to be you?” Her voice cracked into a scream. “You don’t want him, but I do! And all he sees is you! Every time I look at you, all I see is everything I’m not!”
The words hit, but Aris didn’t flinch. She inhaled once, deeply. “Punch me.”
Akari blinked. “What?”
“I said punch me.” Aris’s voice was calm, unwavering. “Do whatever you need—hit, kick, scream, scratch. If it helps, if it makes you feel lighter, then do it. I can take it. I just want my sister back.”
Akari’s hands fisted into Aris’s shirt, trembling. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Aris met her eyes, steady and tired but unbreaking. “You’re hurting. And if hurting me helps you breathe, then I’ll take it. I can handle the pain. Please… just let it out.”
Akari’s hands shook harder. She shoved her first, then the punches came—hard, messy, frantic—slamming into Aris’s chest. She screamed, sobbed, fists flying.
Aris didn’t block, didn’t falter. She stayed upright, arms loose at her sides, every blow landing solid against her body. She didn’t fight back. She didn’t crumble. She just watched her sister, steady, letting her rage burn out.
Her lip split, bruises blossomed, ribs ached. But Aris endured, strong enough for both of them.
At last, Akari collapsed against her, sobbing into her chest. Exhaustion pulled her under until she drifted into sleep.
Aris exhaled slowly, gathering her sister into her arms. She carried her upstairs, tucked her into bed, brushed the hair from her damp face.
Only after Akari’s breathing evened did Aris retreat. She cleaned her cuts, showered, let the sting of bruises wash through her. Pain radiated through her body, but she bore it with quiet strength.
For the first time in days, her chest felt lighter. She’d taken the storm head-on and stood unbroken.
The autumn air cut sharp against Aris’s skin as she walked with Tobe, Mimi, and Axel down the cracked sidewalks. The sky was dipped in gold, the last of the sunlight threading through branches stripped bare. Leaves crunched under their shoes, loud in the silence none of them wanted to break.
Aris adjusted the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder, wincing when it brushed her bruises. She kept her head down, hoping no one noticed the split lip she’d tried to cover. But she could feel Tobe’s eyes—steady, worried, knowing.
Mimi kicked a soda can down the street, the metallic clatter echoing. Axel hunched deeper into his hoodie. The quiet stretched, heavy, until Mimi finally spoke.
“She’ll come around, Aris. She’s hurting, but she’ll come back.”
Aris’s fingers clenched around her bag strap until her knuckles throbbed. “I know. I’ll wait until she does.”
Tobe slowed his pace, letting the others drift a step ahead until he was beside her. His voice was low, careful. “You did the right thing.”
Aris let out a laugh, humorless and frayed. “Which part? Punching Gabe in front of half the school? Watching my sister look at me like I ruined everything? Letting her take swings at me until her hands shook?” Her throat tightened, but she forced the words out. “It hurt. But it helped her. That has to count for something.”
“You stood up for yourself,” Tobe said. His tone was even, grounding. “That matters, too.”
She lifted her eyes to his. His gaze was warm, steady, and for a second the weight pressing down on her chest eased. Something flickered there—something he didn’t put into words. Instead, he reached out and tugged lightly on her sleeve, steering her around a pothole.
Her cheeks warmed. She muttered, “Thanks.”
Mimi shot them a sly glance over her shoulder, lips twitching, but didn’t say a word. Axel rolled his eyes, grumbling, “Lovebirds,” under his breath. Aris ignored him.
But inside, she was knotted tight. Guilt, confusion, longing—all twisted together. She didn’t deserve Tobe’s quiet loyalty. Not when she couldn’t even hold on to her sister.
And upstairs, behind a closed door, Akari sat alone in the dark. The same music Aris blasted earlier now rattled through her headphones, her fists pounding into her pillow in a rhythm that wasn’t so different from Aris’s strikes against the heavy bag. Every thought she had circled back to her sister. To Gabe. To herself.
Little by little, Akari was beginning to mimic the same self-destructive spiral Aris had fought so hard to contain—sharpening herself against anger, guilt, and envy. She could feel it taking root, twisting into her.
And though Aris didn’t see it yet, the line between them was blurring.
- Writer
