I pushed back the rising fire in my heart.
My skin tingled and my jaw grew taut.
It wasn't often that I felt anger. It's not a feeling that I'm used to.
And right now, I was really, really angry.
"She is not an 'issue'. She's a person. How would you feel if I called your husband a 'problem'?"
My mom kneaded her hands. "Be respectful. My husband is your stepdad. And he's been with us for ten years. We've had our ups and downs. But that's normal-"
"And having Hamu around isn't normal? Don't pretend like you know everything. Just because you can't explain it and it doesn't fit in your narrow worldview doesn't mean it's wrong."
I can always sense Hamu's presence. She wasn't in my field of vision at the moment but I could tell that she was in the room.
And that means she heard what my mom just said.
I closed my eyes and subdued the roiling ocean of emotions in my chest.
"Please, just listen to me." My mom pleaded. "We can talk about it later but... for the sake of having a normal school life, please don't tell anyone about this."
"I... I won't tell anyone."
I've always wondered what it would be like to be tortured in the way that villains were in cheesy action flicks. Having your fingernails pulled out one by one for example. But right now I think saying those words gave me some insight into how painful such an experience could be.
My mother was visibly relieved. She slumped her shoulders and spoke lightly, "Okay... have fun in school."
I hoisted up my bag and trudged out of the house.
We lived in a cosy, middle-class suburb in Osaka, Japan, and my new high school was just a little over a kilometer from our home.
At first I had maintained a quick pace but after thinking things over I decided to take a slight detour into an older part of town.
I soon found an old, disused payphone. The kind that had a slightly tinted, glass enclosure. It had a new bench inside but the phone didn't actually work and was treated merely as a relic from the past.
But to me, its existence was an important reminder.
I slid open the glass doorway and sat down. It wasn't too spacious, but it could easily fit two people.
I waited, quietly.
Sure enough, Hamu walked up to the payphone and effortlessly passed through the glass door as if it wasn't even there.
She gave me a cheeky smile and said, "You forgot your costume. But I guess you could just wear your underwear on the outside."
I laughed and patted the side of the bench I was seated on.
She sat down next to me.
I reached out to take her hand. She didn't resist.
When our fingers touched, I felt an unnerving cold seep into my bones.
I grasped her hand tightly, looked into her eyes and said, "Don't even think about it."
"W-what?" She asked, bewildered.
"I don't want you to leave. When I get back from school you better be there, waiting for me."
Her eyes went wide and for a long moment she just stared at me, seemingly unable to speak. When her usual charm returned, she smiled brightly and loudly announced, "I am an emancipated woman not a piece of furniture! I can come and go as I please. If I want to stay at your house and be a freeloader for the rest of my non-life then there's nothing you can do about it!"