#Shoko actually regretting her actions for once

[dailykugisaki]

Day 335 | id in alt

Being desperate to end the fight might make you even worse off in the long run, Shoko.

[chosos-mascara]

all my love, suguru

chapter 2

summary: after an unexpected night spent with your close friend, you find yourself pregnant, and unable to tell him so. will you be able to come to terms with this news, or will it destroy the delicate relationship you'd had left?

chapter warnings: pregnancy, mentions of declining mental health (suguru)

masterlist

⋆₊⋆⋆₊⋆⋆₊⋆⋆₊⋆⋆₊⋆

"Sugu, you look like you've seen a ghost." Satoru jokes, placing his cards face down on the table to lean onto his elbow. He rests his chin on the back of his hand, head tilted to the side as he examines Suguru's expression. 

"Is it really bothering you this much?" Satoru pushes, noting the worn eyes of his friend, an offish demeanour. The game of cards is painfully quiet despite being two drinks deep, a heaviness that Suguru found himself burdened with now leeching into the evening. "Just tired, that's all." He reaches forward to take another sip of his drink, tipping his head back and causing stray hairs to flail with his movement, before realising the bottle is empty. His face flattens, lips curved downward as he peers into the glass. His solemn expression voices the predicament to the others. He slams the bottle down with a little too much force. 

Shoko sighs, her weight resting in her hands, which are planted firmly within the carpet behind her. "I'll get more." She pushes her body upward, taking a second regretful glance at her friend. If she'd have known he would've been this upset over your question, she wouldn't have shared. 

Satrou watches her leave the room, taking a second before leaning a little closer to the other brunette still seated at the coffee table. His hair is messily slung back into the bun he'd tied three or four times this evening, small kinks caused by a frankly absurd amount of fiddling he'd done with the strands. Once he's sure Shoko is out of ear shot, he opens his mouth to prod further. 

"Suguru." The seriousness in Satoru's tone got through to him, brown eyes lifting from the stained table to meet blue. He watches his expression change slightly as Satoru reconsiders his actions, though he decides to push on. "Did you actually sleep with her?" There's a tang in his mouth as he asks, the words wading their way through stale air at an uncomfortably slow pace as Suguru doesn't reply for a short while. Eventually, he inhales sharply, closing his eyes before feigning a face of disgust. 

Suguru could count the amount of times he's lied to Satoru on one hand. Each time he remembers clearly, once when they were newly in Jujutsu High, the second time shortly following their graduation. Both times held a valid excuse, and ultimately served good, with himself eventually spilling the truth.  

"Satoru, she's like a sister to me." Guilt washes over him as he tries to desperately retain his ego, grasping at a flattering image he hoped Satoru held of him, though as he stares into the blue eyes he knows better than his own, his ego begins to crumble. It would only be a matter of time before his friend would find out that he'd shared those moments with you, especially with the divide of the group. For now, he would twist the truth and buy time, keeping that image clean.

Satoru can't deny the relief that coddles him, muscles he hadn't realised to be tensed finally released. 

"Listen, Sugu. I'll just use my six eyes when we meet her on Monday - problem solved." Suguru's brow raises, his chest tightening with the prospect of his plan, but before he can protest the idea Satoru is already raising his bottle to the air to toast his own intelligence. 

"Don't you think that's a little intrusive, Satoru?" Shoko returns, a six pack between two hands. They don't look chilled, probably stored within one of her cupboards, but today, Suguru doesn't care. She sits back at the end of the table cross-legged, tearing the cardboard before handing a beer to the others. 

"What would you do? Ask her directly and make her upset?" He puts a bottlecap on the edge of the table and knocks downward firmly. There's a clatter on the wood as the cap is released. "If you ask me, we're doing her a favour." The bottle is finally at his lips, and he takes a swig of lukewarm beer, trying not to wear his distaste on his face.

"Why don't you just call her if you're so concerned?" It's spoken under her breath, but the pair hear her anyway, and guilt resides in the pit of Suguru's stomach. He hadn't stopped to consider how you must feel regarding this scare, and how isolating it must be to go through alone.

He hasn't spoken with you since that night, having left you in empty sheets the next morning. Suguru admits to himself it was a difficult choice when you laid beside him so peacefully; you'd looked like you'd belonged on that half of the bed, chest rising and falling in syncrony with his own. In your sleep you'd held him, and for those short few hours Suguru felt at ease, your warmth shared with his coldness. However, the decision to distance himself is one he'd had to make for everyone's benefit; it's simply easier to remain friends. Even if it doesn't feel right, or it pains you.

"I'll give her a call." Suguru's voice is low as he adjusts himself to stand. The confidence he felt seems short lived when he leaves the room and pulls your contact up, his mind lagging behind his body. His feet are still moving until he's slipping into Shoko's room, closing the door behind himself to look back down at his contacts screen. Your name is right there, his thumb hovering over it, yet he can't find it within himself to press call. He contemplates for a while, throwing himself to sit on the edge of Shoko's bed and reading over your name again only to lock his phone and toss it beside himself. With his palms to cheeks, he sighs. When did he become so pathetic?

He's felt drained for months now. Life seems to pass by, and while everyone able to progress through the years, bettering themselves and their situations, Suguru feels himself stuck in the same place he was years ago, from the moment he graduated. Sorcery is tiring at best, though depressive at worst - if it's his destiny to help the weak, why does it anger him so?

You're the only person to ask if he's okay. That moment, with your hand over his face and eyes locked into his, he felt so vulnerable. Suguru likes to think he has some semblance of self control, yet for some reason, he'd been unable to help himself. To be cared for so openly by you had been something he couldn't ignore in that moment, and reciprocated it the only way he knew how.

He brings his hands from his face, focusing back on his surroundings before he lost himself to his mind yet again. There's a dresser before him, a scratched up, old wooden set with four drawers on the left and four on the right. Like the rest of her home, it was littered in mess; stray specs of tobacco, almost empty lighters, screwed up recipts, and these were just the things Suguru could make out at first glance. Between all of the rubbish, thoughtless pieces of trash tossed in absentmindedness, sits one item that sticks out to him.

A dulled silver frame, one he recognises to belong somewhere in his own home's storage, surrounding a graduation photo. The four of you, dressed in stupidly formal outfits that hardly matched your personalities, though your grins were wide. He stands to grab the photo between clammy fingers to take a closer look. Satoru stands beside Shoko, his arm draped over her, followed by yourself beside Suguru.

It's funny, he thinks, holding this and being able to reminisce. On that day, he'd felt so nervous. He couldn't sleep properly for nights prior, picturing the ceremony somehow going wrong, it'd all felt to be such a big deal. But now, he stands with just memories to reflect on, and he realises there was nothing to be scared of.

Sitting himself down again, his phone between his fingers and the newfound drive of his younger self's ambitions, he goes through with his plan. It rings once, and twice.

You're laying on the couch, head resting at an awkward angle on the arm and a half eaten bag of chocolate on your stomach, when your phone vibrates. At first glance, the caller's name doesn't stick out, your attention diverted back to the flat screen. There's a few seconds in which you ignore those buzzes, but within that time you mull over the six letters that had accompanied 'accept', and double take.

You sit up, heart pounding with your phone clutched between suddenly weak fingers. No thought goes into answering, though when you do, you realise you're breathless.

"Hey."

Even over the phone his voice is smooth, eliciting a stirring within your stomach with only one commonly spoken word. Ten years of friendship and you still get butterflies at any one on one interaction with him. "What's up?" You don't want to sound too eager, the uncomfortable tension between the pair of you at the forefront of your mind. Yet, you still wish to squeal like a teenager.

"I just wanted to ask..." He trails off and the uncontrollable smile quickly begins to fade, an unsettling twist at your chest replacing those butterflies. He's quiet for a few seconds and you're unsure if the line has cut off, or if he's ruminating on his question.

"Sorry," He pauses, and you hear him breathe out. "I wanted to ask if you're okay?" You crease your brow in doubt. "I'm okay, are you?" You've never felt so distant from him during a conversation, waiting for his uncertain responses feels a bit like pulling teeth. Never has Suguru called just to ask how you are, and this weirdly uncharacteristic gesture is more unsettling than it is comforting. 

"Yeah." He's lying, you think. There's stale air, and you're unsure whether or not to try and fill it. Really, you don't think you have anything you could say to him that would be natural, not when your mind is plaguing you with the weight of your actions. What if you slip up and mention something to do with the baby?

"Shoko has that photo of us framed, from graduation. Remember? We all look so young." Just like that, for the first time during this call, Suguru seems to be speaking genuine words rather than sparse replies or attempt at dry conversation. You relax a little into your couch. "God, life was so easy back then, wasn't it?"

You huff through your nose, a sarcatic chuckle through your frown. "Yeah, it was." Most of your school years were a blur in your mind, your graduation no exception, but one fragment sticks out in your mind from that day, clearly.

"You scared?" Satoru teases, and you shake your head with a glare toward his snide expression. He laughs at your seriousness, grin wide when he sees the pout on your lips. "Oh yeah, why are you shaking then?" 

You immediately look downward, holding your hands at eye level to assess your physical state. You allow a few moments to pass as you stare at them, ultimately concluding in their stillness that Satoru was teasing you. "Leave her be." Suguru wanders out from the en-suite, his hair tied neatly back with black kimono covering the button down he'd worn earlier. He places onelargehand over your shoulder, a tender squeeze over the skin. "If you're nervous, it's not obvious."

His words of reassurance bring you back down from your heightened sense of anxiety, and you're a little less concerned over your appearance. You look to your side, beginning at the hand now slipping from your shoulder, and ending at the pair of brown eyes you hate to admit you love. They're gentle, and you feel warmth prickle at the skin on your arms, a blanket of comfort enveloping you. Suguru was your home, your comfort. 

"Satoru always teased you, though. At least that's lessened with age."  You wonder if Suguru was also thinking back to that moment, and your smile returns, even if it's much smaller that it was before.

"Nah, he hasn't changed at all." You sigh, just as lovesick over him as you were back then. As you adjust yourself on the couch, you realise those little chocolates had spilled from the bag, though you can't find it within yourself to care. Instead, you pass the time by putting them back in, one by one. Suguru laughs down the phone. "You're right, he hasn't, has he?"

For a brief few moments, you're offered reprieve in the presence on the other side of the line, forgetting the complications between you. But of course, the ease is soon offset by the daunting rememberance that this will all come to an end, and that things will never be the same as they once were. 

"How's the night going?" The question isn't really something you'd actually cared to know, you just didn't want him to hang up yet. This may be the last positive interaction the two of you have, and you're not ready to let this turn into another distant memory.

"It's... alright." He doesn't sound like he's smiling much anymore, and you find yourself in mourning for the friendship you had. "Ah, I'm glad it's going well." You know the call is coming to an end, and this is it.

Suguru swallows thickly. The weight that seemed to ease had suddenly dropped back onto his shoulders, and he breathes out slowly, closing his eyes. Was he really going to ask you expilicty? How would he bring it up - by the way, are you carrying our child?

His mouth opens, and closes just as quickly. He can't do it. There it is, that emptiness, the settling heaviness that he can't seem to shake crashing around him once more, unable to feel anything more than a numness encasing his head. He wonders what you're doing, and why he can't just let you in.

"I should probably get back to them." He voices through soured air, ashamed he's unable to build the courage to ask you what he so desperately needed an answer to.

"That's okay, thanks for calling me, Sugu." There's a twinge of guilt that he tries to ignore. You don't know the real, selfish reason he called, lacking genuine care for your wellbeing.

Before returning to the others, he places the photo frame back in it's place among the mess of Shoko's room. In a way, it feels a fitting home. 

tags - @animeisforkings @emikisses @boredwithwrath @karazorel7 @tomiokasecretlover @mrsoharaa @magey0412 @thisbicc @aemiliabruno @zeunys @sukunaspillow @caixgee @ssetsuka @pinkpunkdynamite @harlamarie @chilicopsticks @khoochie @hojoslutoru @karazorel

please let me know if you would like to join the taglist. please note, i will not add blank blogs. please show your support through reblogging.

[watterchickensnake]

Kotoko's Crime

Hello! This will be my theory of Kotoko's crime based on all evidence we have today. I will likely post a follow up to this once we have her Interrogation Questions but I will be using all we have for now! Now let's get on with it.

The new start:

The start of Deep Cover continues from what we had seen in HARROW. We later see the girl Kotoko had saved (Hat Kid) throwing herself onto Kotoko. Kotoko is notably unsettled with this. Kotoko then grabs onto the girl and the line "That is why I became your fangs" is played. I believe Kotoko decided that she would protect this girl. A bit later the line "Tell me why you tell me stop" Is played. I believe this is foreshadowing for later.

Midway:

For a brief moment, we see Kotoko in her basement with all of her papers scribbled out. We do not see her face in this image. I'm a little confused with this as to what information can we gain from this image? Is Kotoko regretful of her actions? Next, we see Kotoko in a park with Hat Girl once again. She is reading an article about what she did to her first murder victim: Kaneshiro Tsugumushi. It appears that the victim's father Kaneshiro Isamu (President of Senkou Newspaper) conducted a private investigation, claiming that Kotoko had done excessive violence and that Hat Girl had retracted her testimony about the situation, Kaneshiro Isamu saying that Kotoko likely threatened her for that statement. Take note that Hat Girl was not afraid of Kotoko. She actually seemed happy to see her and wore a hat just to look like her. Perhaps Kaneshiro Isamu is spinning a narrative that Kotoko is some monstrous brute to get the case against her. Additionally, I believe we have seen a Kaneshiro in HARROW.

TL: Company: Shoko News Paper Corporation Position: External Director (Translator was unsure) Name: Kaneshiro Ken'otoko (Translator was unsure) Note the similar surnames. I believe the man dealing business with Kotoko may have been a relative who wanted Kaneshiro Tsugumushi (Kotoko's first victim) to be disciplined for his crimes and disagreed with Kaneshiro Isamu covering up his crimes. I find it very interesting that she was working with a Kaneshiro.

Ending:

Here we see Hat Girl waiting for Kotoko and once she sees her, she appears horrified.

The line "Tell me why you tell me, stop" appears once again. Kotoko feels betrayed and angry at her. She walks off into green fog and we see her lose control of herself than a werewolf emerges from within her. We know that Kotoko is in the same street that the murder she did that brought her to Milgram.

My Order of Events:

I believe these are the order of events

Kotoko tracked down and murdered Kaneshiro Tsugumushi with the assistance of Kaneshiro Ken'o'toko, saving Hat Girl.

Kotoko is screwed over by the involvement of Kaneshiro Isamu, leading her to start losing the case, for the media to see her in a bad light, and for her to be dropped out of University.

Kotoko is enraged by this and kills Kaneshiro Isamu.

Sources: https://www.tumblr.com/maristelina/714359363425435648/kotoko-harrow-translations?source=share https://twitter.com/tiramisu0117/status/1747586611716784535

[azuradreaming]

A Silent Voice Analysis: Shoya and X

The fourth part of A Silent Voice review is here! It took longer than I thought. I think I’m going slow down the posting to once a week before I burn myself out.

My most favorite symbolism throughout the movie is Shoya and the Xs he sees on people’s faces.

We have talked about how Shoya was a bully-turned-bullied, but we have yet to talk about the process of it and how it affected Shoya’s entire life growing up.

Shoya seeing only Xs on everyone’s face with a few exceptions is a representation of many things:

His distrust in others from betrayment

His guilt and shame of his past

His belief in needing to be punished and that he is undeserving

Betrayal of Friends and Peers

We all know Shoya was a bully, but he wasn’t the only one. He, his friends (Kazuki and Keisuke), and Noaka actively took part in bullying in Shoko, while the rest of the class were indirectly involved for they neither directly took part nor tried to stop it.

However, when things went too far and Shoko got injured from the hearing aids being ripped away by Shoya, the bullying was being addressed by the principal and the teacher officially. 

At first, when asked who did this, no one answered and we obviously see that Shoya was about to admit to it. 

But before he could admit it himself, the teacher called him out on it. 

This led to Naoka, Kazuki, and others to follow along, shoving all the blame to Shoya (since he was the one who started it and did the physical works) and claiming to be innocent.

No one in the class stepped up for Shoya either. They also pushed the blame entirely onto him alone. And from then on, they, especially Kazuki and Keisuke, turned on Shoya and started to bully him by giving him the same exact treatment he gave Shoko.

Once friends, now betrayed by those very friends. 

That was the mark of betrayment of friends and classmates.

Betrayal of Adults

Now if we think about this deeper, the teacher called him out for being the bully in front of the entire class disregarding the fact that Shoya wasn’t the only one, which led to betrayment. 

When Shoya became the bullied, the movie implied that the bullying didn’t stop, which means the teacher and the faculty either didn’t notice it or turned a blind eye to it OR disregarded it due to the prejudice that Shoya was a bully.

I don’t know if the teacher was aware that Shoya wasn’t the only participant in bullying Shoko or not, but it makes sense if he thought Shoya was the only one for Shoya was the only one who was seen to physically and vocally bully Shoko, while everyone was making side comments or talk behind Shoko’s back. 

But the way the teacher handled the situation felt very wrong and biased. It felt like he believed that he knew 100% what exactly was going on and concluded on one thing: Shoya was the one who bullied Shoko. 

And because he is the teacher and the authority, his one statement. His one call out became the only truth. This one “truth” and the way it was said and handled ruined Shoya for the worse.

Based on the movie, the teacher did nothing to stop others from bullying Shoya. 

He is a teacher. 

He is supposed to teach students what is right and what is wrong. 

He’s supposed to be fair. He is also supposed to protect. 

Instead, one way or another way, he literally permitted this bullying to happen. 

They were all children at the time. Still learning right from wrong. 

Bullying is wrong. But how is it okay to allow a child bully turned into being the bullied? 

How is it okay to practically allow an ENTIRE class to become the bully?

How is it okay to allow them to think bullying the bully is right?

Regardless, the bullying of Shoya was not stopped. 

And this marks the betrayment of elders, aka teachers, aka adults.

Guilt. Regret. Self-Hate.

Now that Shoya has become the one being bullied, he has been directly put into Shoko’s shoes experiencing the same treatment he gave her. Through this experience, he realizes the extent of the misdeed he has done to her. 

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Almost. 

Unlike Shoko, he wasn’t bullied for something he was born with. 

He was bullied for an action he did. 

He finally learned that bullying is wrong, but by the time he had learned his mistake, he was denied the chance to apologize, admit his wrong openly, or start over.

Adding to his new found guilt, he was constantly reminded of what he did to Shoko by being called a bully by everyone, even though he no longer was one. By being bullied himself. 

As this continues to happen, the more guilt he feels. 

The more guilt he feels, the more his regret grows and which leads to self-hate growing stronger and stronger until it becomes too unbearable. 

Because he is a bully.

And thus, this self-hate grows into this thinking:

I realized I need to bear the sins, and need to be punished for it.

He deserved the hate and punishment. He is undeserving of anyone. He does not deserve friends. Everyone is judging him because he “is” a bully. 

That is what Shoya believed.

Outcasted by People and Himself

When Shoya and the class graduated into middle school, the bullying stopped but became something else. Although he wasn’t being bullied the same way in elementary school, he was isolated due to prejudice. The “fact” that he “is” a bully followed him to middle school.

From the movie, we saw that Kazuki started spreading “Shoya is a bully” to their new classmates. This leads to the continued biases and prejudice. 

However, unlike elementary school where he was actively being bullied, he was instead ignored and isolated by everyone.

He became an outcast by people.

However, being betrayed by both his peers and adults who were supposed to watch over him together led to the beginning of Shoya’s damaged trust in everyone around him. 

And adding on to his belief that he got what he deserved which further remains a burden in his mind, Shoya believes everyone hates him.

These two factors led Shoya to outcast himself from everyone. 

Covering His Ears and The X Symbolism

Betrayal of friends, peers, adults. Guilt, regret, and self-hate. Outcast by both everyone and himself.

These factors put together bore him down severely in every way possible.

Unlike Shoko, Shoya can actually hear the people talking behind his back, hence why we see the scene of him covering his ears. 

Unable to bear any more of the backlash, the burden, the judgement, the guilt, and shame, he chose to shut off from the world unwillingly to listen to anymore.

And for the same reasons, he couldn’t bring himself to face anyone nor trust anyone. 

He doesn’t want to see their faces, thus the Xs on everyone’s faces except those he trusts.

I want to point out that by shutting himself out from everyone, Shoya has allowed himself to disconnect from everyone else and their real impressions of him. As we can see in the classroom scene, where he fills in dialogues of students with hate words towards himself thinking that’s what they are saying which further proves his self-hate.

Shoya isn’t hated by everyone as he thought he was as we can see when a group gather near his desk to look at an airship, they tried to get his attention to see it too, but he was deep in his self-hate world to notice this.

The Removing and Applying of the Xs Symbolism

Removing the Xs on individual’s faces symbolizes Shoya’s new found trust and the feeling of safety in them. 

We can see from the scene when Tomohiro befriends Shoya, the X on Tomohiro’s face fell off symbolizing the beginning of Shoya’s trust in him and acknowledgement that he is a friend. And that applies to everyone after Tomohiro.

What led me to believe that this is the meaning behind the Xs on everyone’s face and its removal was the Shoya’s scenes with Naoka.

When they first met again, Naoka didn’t have an X on her face, which means that Shoya is still okay around her; he still trusts her to some degree.

However, when she starts to try to bully Shoko like in the past again and Shoya stops her, we don’t see her face at all until the amusement park scene where we suddenly see that there is now an X on her face. 

This means Shoya no longer trusts her. 

As they continue to have fun at the amusement park and Shoya realizes he has friends he can trust now, we can see that he began to trust Naoka again as her X was removed at one point.

Buuut that didn’t last long when Naoka went behind Shoya’s back and arranged for him and Kazuki to meet again, which led to X being slapped back on her face for Shoya didn’t want to meet Kazuki and being suddenly forced into this awkward situation by her led to his distrust in her again.

Finally, Uncovering His Ears and Permanent Removal of all the Xs

This is my most favorite scene, so I couldn’t bear to just put a gif version without the audio that compliments with the visual so well, so I found the clip on YouTube.

After both Shoya and Shoko have come to terms with themselves and reconcile with everyone completely, we see the scene where Shoya finally removes his hands from his ears and finally hears all the sounds around him. And all the Xs on everyone’s faces fell to the ground.

To me, this was both my favorite and the most powerful scene in the movie. We know that Shoya has officially apologized to Shoko for the bullying and reconciled with everyone, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that he has forgiven himself and let go of the self-hate.

This scene is the proof that he is now willing to open himself up to others, trust them, and believe in them. 

By doing so, he realizes that he isn’t being judged that much as he has once thought. In which this and his tears became the proof that he has forgiven himself, let go of his self-hate, and is now moving forward with his life. 

And in a way, he is re-entering society

I think it is the most beautiful scene because when he was covering his ears at the beginning, there was a lot of chattering and eeriness.

There was so much fear coming from Shoya when he felt that everyone was staring at him like they’re judging him.

But when we came to this scene where he uncovers them, it was like a sudden enlightenment and realization that he now has people he can trust and that no one’s looking at him anymore with a judging look. 

It was like coming out of a very long dark tunnel.

The song of the post for this post is the OST, lit(var) by Kensuke Ushio, from the movie itself where Shoya for the first time decides to fully uncover his ears to try again to trust everyone once more.

Disclaimer: I do not own A Silent Voice. All rights are reserved to Kyoto Animation. Images and Videos are used solely to help give visuals to my review and analysis of the movie.

[adoranymph]

I was never the most graceful of children. Not much has changed since then, but I’d say I was far more awkward in my formative years. Especially my very early formative years. There were a couple of things I did that were very ungraceful indeed, and I’m still embarrassed still thinking about those things, wondering how stupid could I have been? Child or no. But for these perfectly human mistakes, it was enough of a reason for the rest of my elementary school classmates to pass judgement and decree that they’d make the majority of my waking school life Hell.

Fortunately for me, I had a set of loving parents (and a cat) waiting for me at home every day to escape to. And I did have friends, however, most of them were outside of my class, so it was a gamble during recess if I’d see them, and things like finding partners for in-class assignments were awkward at best.

And unfortunately, not all kids are even as lucky as that, and have absolutely no friends, and come home to family lives that are less than loving.  

They say that “living well is the best revenge”, and oftentimes I would think as a child, “Just you wait until I’m a successful writer and you have some stupid boring job”, and that would get me through one day to the next. It was one of those thoughts that even my mother encouraged, if only to make me feel better. Not a nice thing, but there were other kids hurting her baby, so I’m sure as far as she was concerned, thinking that way in private at least couldn’t do any damage. I’d like to think that it didn’t, even as I still think about those kids and at this point just wonder if they’re managing to get through our current crises okay.  

I haven’t been without my own moments of being mean, and in truth, I don’t think any of us really can say that we haven’t been. Unless we’re raised a devout, hardcore Buddhist who’s a natural at letting bygones be bygones. Indeed, if only we all  had the patience of a saint and the ability to take everything with good humor like I’ve seen the Dalai Lama do in interviews. If anyone’s the pinnacle of that kind of merciful strength in a world like ours, it’s him. 

Forgiveness is a complicated thing. It’s a big deal when we can say that we can forgive those who have wronged us. Depending on the wrong that was done however, that can factor into how easy it is to forgive. Which means sometimes it’s just impossible. 

Some might call that a shame, and for the most part, I’d agree. 

Like everything though, there are exceptions. 

Unfortunately, at times, the desire of one who’s done another wrong to be forgiven for that wrong doesn’t always come from a place of sincerity. Which means it could be fair to argue that that person’s desire to be forgiven comes from a place of selfishness, which defeats the purpose. 

At the same time, true guilt is a painful thing to bear, speaking as someone who’s felt heavy guilt as much as heavy hurt. Anything to make that feeling go away can drive anyone decent to desperation. So one of the first conundra is whether or not it’s right to seek forgiveness, if it’s more to make yourself feel better than to heal the hurt you caused another person. Not to say it can’t be both, but to forgo the latter for the former is, I really believe, missing the mark.

True desires for forgiveness only come from wanting to make the person you wronged feel better. Never mind those who try to just use it as a free pass to get away with what they’ve done, something which casts a shadow on those who want it for sincere purposes. Mostly because I think many are under the misconception that receiving forgiveness works the same way as would a Sham-Wow on their soul. Because I’ve thought that too. I think most of us have. Most of us have felt so bad about doing something terrible to someone else, we’d do anything to make that bad feeling go away.

Then there are those who would say that that bad feeling is in and of itself a punishment, hence the argument, “Haven’t I been punished enough?” But, again, the important thing is whether or not you learn from that feeling, contemplate on it, and understand why it is you feel that way, and how it is that you’ve brought it on yourself. 

Even after all that, it isn’t enough to beg for forgiveness. And forgiveness just can’t be given. Like all the best things, it has to be earned. Sincerely earned. 

I have made mention more than once before that I’m “glad” I was bullied. “Glad” isn’t really the right word though, not unless I were a glutton for punishment. More what I mean that I’m glad I was the one was bullied as opposed to the one doing the bullying, i.e., I’m glad that I had to deal with that and that dealing with that made me a stronger person, rather than get swept up in the self-esteem high that seems to come from putting another person down.

I’d like to think so, anyway. But seeing as how I’d prefer above all that to have not been bullied in the first place, nor to have ever bullied anyone (as I said, I have thrown out the occasional mean thing here and there and then regretted it, realizing I was totally not thinking when I said those things), I had to settle with what I got. Like most of us do. To this day, I think about all the torment I went through socially in elementary school, and to a lesser degree in middle school, right before my parents died and I got packed off to live elsewhere with my aunt and uncle. 

In the anime film, A Silent Voice, Shoya, a boy who mercilessly bullies, Shoko, a deaf girl in his elementary school class, is forced to taste his own medicine when he himself becomes the target of bullying after Shoko is forced to switch schools just to get away from the abuse. Abuse which includes but is not limited to: destroying at least eight pairs of her hearing aids, openly mocking the way she speaks, and little things like drenching her in hose water and throwing dirt in her face.

The film follows his own efforts to atone, and how he and Shoko manage to form a friendship and learn how to heal each other’s hurts from the past in forming that friendship. It poses questions like whether it’s selfish for Shoya to seek atonement, and when enough is enough when it comes to being punished for something you did, especially now that you’ve changed. Truly changed. For the better. 

And Shoya’s change is startling. In his elementary school days, we see him as that punk kid with whom the rest of the class is willing to along when it comes to laughs, which unfortunately includes laughs at the expense of others. Until one day when he “goes too far”, which doesn’t say much considering he was already going too far but I guess the line has to be drawn at some point, which in this case is when the teachers finally get around to getting involved.

(Which by the way, what was up with their teacher back then? That whole beleaguered jackass routine? Yeah, that didn’t exactly help matters.)

But after that, when he himself becomes the bullied, when he undergoes his own form of karmic suffering for what he’s done, he turns meek, unable to look anyone in the eye or get close to anyone. He loses old friendships, and is on the brink of suicide when he tries to make amends with Shoko, only to find himself trying to form a new friendship with her, and the from there the film plays out. 

There are people in the world I know I can never forgive. That said, those I can’t forgive are usually people I can sense would never actually bear the weight of the guilt that most ought to feel for the things they’ve done. Still, a little forgiveness goes a long way in the grand scheme of things. Thankfully, most people are feeling individuals, so while I can’t forget what they’ve done, I can forgive for the sake of their sincere desire to change their ways based on their sincere understanding of why what they did hurt me and or others. 

In stories, we have the benefit as the reader/audience of seeing both sides of a situation, the one who wronged and the one who was wronged. So, from that fourth-wall perspective, we find it at once easy and difficult to understand where the characters on both sides are coming from. 

In Avatar: the Last Airbender, there was an episode where I felt this strong confliction of emotions. It was the episode where Zuko has left his father, the Fire Lord Ozai and ruler of the Fire Nation, in order to join Aang the Avatar in defeating him and his tyranny. But given his track record with Aang and his friends, having spent the first half of the show mercilessly hunting Aang down so he can present him to Ozai and regain his place as the Fire Prince, it’s understandable that Aang and the Gang aren’t particularly keen on letting him join their group. Especially for Katara, who seems to carry the deepest wounds where both Zuko and the Fire Nation are concerned. So, even though they do need someone to teach Aang Firebending, Zuko has to work hard to get into their good graces enough in order to be accepted, and even then, there’s still some shaky ground to cover.

 Part of this is seeing how Zuko has to confront the consequences of his actions. Not just hunting Aang to the ends of the earth since the beginning of the series in order to please his father, and all the crimes against other innocents that that entailed, But also the fact that as he was starting to turn good, it seemed, towards the end of Book Two: Earth, before turning back ��to the dark side”, as it were.

In the penultimate episodes of S2, he briefly gained Katara’s trust, presumably sharing with her the loss of his own mother when she broke down over the loss of her own as a casualty of this war that the Fire Nation started. Only for him to turn right around and take up his sister Azula’s offer to join her in taking Aang down in exchange for finally being allowed to come home after so many years of being banished. Just the same, it still hurt to see Zuko get turned away with so much anger when he tried to switch sides for good (in both senses of the word), especially when Katara drenched him furiously with water when he offered to be their prisoner if not a member of their group. As if we hadn’t already gotten enough of him getting kicked when he’s down in the episode “Zuko Alone”. 

Then you have Katara scoff at the idea that he’s trying to manipulate them by “making himself seem like an actual human being”. Which he wasn’t, and we know that, but we also know that to her, it must seem that way, given what happened between them last time. Still it stings, and more so when Toph tries to talk to the guy and he accidentally burns her feet when he’s startled by her, then tries to apologize and then yells, “Why am I so bad at being good?!”, which is at once piteous and hilarious. I like though that that ties into the reason that Aang finally gives into letting Zuko teach him Firebending, when Zuko admits that he too needs to learn control, so that he won’t accidentally burn people again. Aang identifies with that after that time he accidentally burnt Katara while getting too enthusiastic with his own first attempts at Firebending. I appreciate that nuance, because it’s the smallest patch of common ground to start sowing new friendship on, as it was Aang himself who wondered aloud if the two of them couldn’t have been friends, back in S1. 

Where Katara is concerned, she doesn’t really accept Zuko for a few more episodes down the line, not even after Zuko helps her brother Sokka break their father and Sokka’s girlfriend Suki out of the Boiling Rock Fire Nation prison. When everyone else seems to have accepted him, and she’s still clinging to her anger, he offers her the information on how to find the man who killed her mother as a means of appeasement. They go out together to track that man down, and Katara faces down her own demons, her desire for revenge. She realizes, after seeing how pathetic the man is, that he’d simply this small man who’d used his brief moment of power to take the life of an innocent, and what all that had amounted to. In the end, she can’t bring herself to kill him.

But it’s after that that she’s able to forgive Zuko, perhaps out of the fact that his taking her side on seeking revenge might have convinced her of the humanity inside him that was worth taking a chance on. That they do share the losses of their respective mothers in common as a result of Fire Lord Ozai and the Fire Nation’s war on the world. Unlike the ex-soldier who killed her mother, Zuko made not only a very human mistake, but one that he is genuinely, humanly sorry for. 

Zuko had to work to earn that forgiveness, and through earning it, learned from his mistake, rather than simply wore it as a badge of automatic absolvement. He absolved himself of his guilt with his own actions, and not at the will of Katara, and only after did Katara forgive him. Which led to something that, as much as part of me ships them (sort of) I don’t think gets enough credit as a beautiful hetero friendship. (Plus, I love Zuko x Mai just as much if not more. But then, nine times out of ten, I agree with the canon ships in most things.) 

Whether the initial desire for forgiveness was selfish, in the end, Zuko atoned for what he did and more, since in the climax episodes of the series he saves Katara’s life from a death bolt of lightning from his sister Azula by throwing himself in front of it. That he learned from that absolvement to be more self-sacrificing for the sake of those who are vulnerable (thankfully Katara takes Azula out right after he’s down for the count and it’s awesome). He didn’t just go back to his old habits, and was in fact able to clear that last hurtle to fully atone for everything he’s done. Pity the same can’t be said for his sister Azula, but I can set that aside for another post in future. 

In the case of Shoya and Zuko both, we see them go through moments that would make you feel for him, even though at the same time you know objectively and subjectively both that they deserve what they get coming to them. What mother wouldn’t smack someone for psychologically scarring their child, as Shoko’s mother does to Shoya in once scene? And when Shoya is first trying to reconnect with Shoko, Shoko’s little sister Yuzuru tries to keep Shoya from getting to her, just thing to look out for her. Which is totally understandable. And she’s even the one who points out that if Shoya’s just doing all this nice stuff to make himself feel better, he’s wasting his time. 

Only for Shoya to bring it back to how he still feels maybe the world would be better without him. 

As it turns out, Shoko is just as or nearly as suicidal as Shoya was at the beginning of the film. Like when they were in school, Shoko just wanted to be friends. In truth, the two of them had more in common than Shoya would have initially thought. But it was hard for him to understand that in part just because Shoko was someone with whom communication was difficult. So when Shoya finds Shoko about to jump off a balcony to her death, he manages to pull her back in the end without regard to the risk to his own life. 

From there comes an emotional wave-chain of weeping apologies and catharses. And Shoya and Shoko both come to an understanding that heretofore they hadn’t been able to reach. Once they’re able to bridge the gap between them, through a reaching out to the other, they begin to see the worth in each other’s lives, find reasons for each of them to be alive. Even before this moment, Shoya still seems to wonder if the world wouldn’t be better off without him, even after his mother’s already made him promise not to try that whole suicide thing again. 

The two of them have different reasons for wishing they were dead, and for wanting reasons to like themselves again. But those desires in and of themselves serve as common healing ground for them both. The idea of playing these themes against a girl who’s deaf is interesting in its own way, if only because when we’re addressing those with whom we disagree as well as those whom we’ve wronged but can’t understand how, or who have wronged us, it can often feel like we’re talking to those who can’t seem to hear us, even if they do actually have a working pair of ears. Which can serve as yet another block to forgiveness. 

Forgiveness as a concept is put on a pedestal it seems. That the ability to offer forgiveness grants you validation as a good person. That if you can’t, then there’s just some level of enlightenment that you have yet to reach. But, as said repeatedly above, it’s more complicated than that. There could be differences between forgiving a person, and forgiving their actions, and even vice versa, and every which way in between.

As I said, there are people and things that I can’t forgive in this world. And that I can honestly say after giving it some thought that I don’t feel bad about not being able to forgive them. Which is not to say that I wish them every ill imaginable upon them, and if I were in the very unlikely situation where they were dangling off a cliff and I was the only person who could pull them up, I’d pull them up. And that I could do that and still not forgive them I believe carries its own unique sense of morality: “I can’t forgive you or what you’ve done, but I don’t believe that you deserve to be left to die either. Not when I can save you, anyway.” 

But who knows, I could totally be talking out of my hat. 

That said, there are so many miseries that would be made less miserable if there were more forgiving people in the world. That despairing question cried into the void, when will the cycle finally be broken? I’m not sure that it can, but I think it can be broken down, and that’s starting with things like forgiveness. And to start with that, means understanding that forgiveness does not mean giving a free pass to people and their transgressions. More it should mean, “I am willing to give you a chance as a human being, because I am a human being too.” 

To forgive is to be willing to open one’s heart to someone who has done them wrong. Sometimes that’s not easy on a personal level, and, again, understandable. But on a larger scale, I think it’s an important thing to consider. While there can’t be this illusion that forgiveness works the same as a magic finger snap, I still believe it can still work as a good first step towards something better than what we have now. 

With recent events as they are, I’m taking a moment here to offer the below link as a way to encourage another small but meaningful way to make a difference. 

  Forgiveness I was never the most graceful of children. Not much has changed since then, but I'd say I was far more awkward in my formative years.