Chapter 27- The Festival

                                    

                                          
"Ryou, can you please come downstairs?"
                          
The brunette grumbled to himself at the sound of his uncle's voice that resonated from the restaurant below him. Rolling out of the comfort of his bed, he exited his room and proceeded to shuffle down the stairs.
                          
"Yes?" The word leaves his lips automatically, his gaze directed towards the ground uncaringly, when another voice spoke.
                          
"Stand up straight, and stop dragging your feet." 
                          
The voice is like a poison dagger in his gut, and a heavy sigh escapes his mouth. He doesn't even have to look up to know she's glaring at him distastefully, but he does so anyways. He pushes down the immediate urge to just turn and leave the room and instead regards the woman coldly.
                          
"Mother."
                          
She was a slender and somewhat tall individual, and some could have even considered her pretty if you looked past the creases between her constantly pursed brows or the sharp look in her umber eyes. Her straight black hair was cut short in a bob, and she crossed her arms tightly in front of her business attire. To put it simply, she looked nothing like him, save for the sour face she sported when displeased, an expression that was constantly pointed out to Ryou by others.
                          
His mother just frowned deeper at him. She looked him up and down, obviously judging his appearance, and perhaps Ryou might have felt self-conscious of his old hoodie and jeans a few years before. He didn't care anymore now.
                          
"What did I just say? Straighten up, and face whoever it is you are speaking to."
                          
There she goes again, always nagging me, Ryou thought bitterly. I haven't even been in the same room as her for more than thirty seconds, and she's already on my back. 
                          
He bluntly asked, "Why are you here?"
                          
His uncle awkwardly gulped from beside the woman, and Ryou flicked his gaze over to him. He hadn't even realized he'd been standing so close; he was too focused on his mother.
                          
"Er, well..." He held out a hand to the woman and smiled nervously. "Rinko-san's going to be the third judge tomorrow at the festival."
                          
"What."
                          
A series of emotions flew through Ryou at that moment: shock, despair, anger, and... fear. A feeling of disgust appeared at that last feeling in particular.
                          
He thought maybe she was visiting him or something, but all hell would freeze over before she even considered such an option. This... this was even worse.
                          
He bit his lip anxiously and took a moment to gather his bearings. When he finally trusted himself to speak again, he practically spat, "But why her?"
                          
"Tch! You ought to have some more respect!" She clicked her tongue disapprovingly, a habit that he also seemed to have inherited from her. "I didn't raise you to be this way."
                          
Anger bubbled in Ryou's stomach as his uncle attempted to calm the woman down, a vexed look present in the man's face that he seemed to refuse to act upon. His fists clenched tightly and shook. It took all his willpower not to snap in that moment, and he slowly counted to ten to calm himself.
                          
It was only when he heard her mutter something along the lines of "spoiled brat" under her breath that he lost it.
                          
"You—you didn't raise me!"
                          
'Slap!'
                          
The sound echoed throughout restaurant. For a moment, it was silent in the room, and all Ryou could hear or focus on was the blood pumping in his ears and the stinging in his cheek.