Aduni sat in the dimly lit cinema hall, the sound of the opening credits of Demon Slayer vibrating through the floor beneath her. She had made sure to come alone, just for this, a break from the constant bombardment of familial obligations and accusations.
The last few days had been a storm of silence strained dinners, pointed glances, and the lingering coldness that followed the conversation with her father. She needed this. She needed to feel
something that wasn't heavy, something that didn't come with a price tag of regret.
She adjusted herself in the seat, leaning back and letting the first few minutes of the film wash over her. The bright animation, the sharp sounds of battle, the intensity of the story everything felt different. Lighter.
But it didn't last long.
A rustling sound came from her left, followed by an unmistakable voice.
"Are you serious? Demon Slayer? This is the one you chose?"
Aduni turned her head slowly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips despite herself. There, beside her, stood Tade, looking at the screen with a raised eyebrow. He looked much different out of the usual setting, out of their usual tension-filled interactions.
He was grinning, his eyes alight with something that reminded her of the youthful optimism she used to have, before life made her learn all its hard lessons.
And beside him was a young girl, maybe a year or two younger than Funke.
She had big eyes, a mischievous grin, and an energy that was hard to ignore. Shola, Tade's younger sister, was already flipping through her phone, seemingly unimpressed by the movie.
"Why are you so… intense about it?" Aduni asked, her voice teasing as she gestured toward the screen.
Tade shrugged, still grinning. "I wasn't expecting you to be into this kind of thing. You seem more of a, I don't know, 'serious business' kind of girl."
Shola rolled her eyes dramatically, still glued to her phone. "This is dumb. Why do people like this crap?"
Aduni laughed, leaning forward, finding the ease in the moment. The tension she'd been carrying around for days felt miles away.
"I guess some of us just like our demons to be colorful and dramatic, rather than internal and suffocating."
Tade chuckled, nudging Shola with his elbow. "See? She gets it."
Shola made a face but remained silent, her arms crossed as she glared at the screen. Aduni found it hard not to laugh at the sight of her sister-in-law, who seemed perpetually in a mood so much like the girls in her own family, yet so different.
The movie played on, and for the next few hours, they fell into a comfortable rhythm. Tade and Aduni traded jokes, exchanged half-formed thoughts about the plot, while Shola sulked, making sarcastic remarks in between occasional bursts of laughter that seemed to catch her off guard. The energy in the room was warm, almost normal, and Aduni felt the weight in her chest loosen.
She felt alive again, like she hadn't in days.
As the movie neared its end, Aduni felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She reached for it with a sigh, knowing full well who it was before even looking at the screen. Her younger sister, Durojaiye.
The message was short, sharp, and carried the weight of their father's silent wrath.
"You blocked Dad on WhatsApp? What's wrong with you, Aduni? Don't you know how much you're hurting him? Unblock him now, or I swear I'll come there and make you."
Aduni stared at the message for a long time, her thumb hovering over the screen. Blocking their father hadn't been something she had done lightly.
But it had been necessary. It had been the only way to protect herself, even if it meant severing the connection completely, even if it meant exposing herself to the judgment of her family.
She glanced at Tade, who was absorbed in the ending credits, and then at Shola, who was still scrolling through her phone, clearly oblivious to the storm brewing within her.
Then her phone buzzed again.
This time it was a call. Her elder brother, Gbenga.
Aduni hesitated for a moment, but the vibration in her hand was insistent. With a sigh, she swiped to answer.
"Aduni," Gbenga's voice was low, sharp, and filled with an authority that always made her bristle.
"What the hell is wrong with you? Blocking Dad like that? You're a stupid feminist, you know that? This is not how we handle things in this family."
Her chest tightened. The words hit like a slap, and for a moment, she couldn't breathe.
"Gbenga, I'm not going to explain myself to you," she replied, her voice cold. "This is my decision."
"Your decision?" he scoffed. "You're going against everything we stand for. You're throwing away our family for the sake of some dumb beliefs. This is not how you fix things. You don't run away, you don't block people. You endure, Aduni. You endure everything, just like Mum did."
Her mother's name hung in the air, an accusation that burned through her like acid. The silence stretched, unbearable.
"I'm not Mum," Aduni said quietly. "I refuse to be."
There was a long pause on the other end of the line, before Gbenga's voice broke through, harsh and filled with frustration.
"You're foolish. You're selfish, and you're hurting us. You'll see, one day, when you're all alone, when you realize how wrong you were…"
The line went dead before she could respond. She sat there, staring at her phone, the anger simmering beneath the surface, but now something else, too.
Something heavier. Something that felt like suffocation.
Tade had turned to face her, his eyes searching.
"Everything okay?" he asked softly, noticing the storm cloud over her face.
Aduni forced a smile. "Yeah, everything's fine." But even she could tell it was a lie.
Shola, still with her phone, looked at her from the corner of her eye. "Is your family always this… extra?"
Aduni's lips twitched. "You don't even know the half of it."
Shola rolled her eyes, clearly uninterested, but her attention lingered for a moment longer than usual. Then, just as quickly, she returned to her phone, the sense of tension that followed her still present.
Aduni leaned back in her chair and let out a long breath.
She hadn't wanted to be in this moment. She hadn't wanted the confrontation with Gbenga, or the guilt from Durojaiye's message. She hadn't wanted to be forced to confront her family's expectations of her. But here she was, right in the middle of it all, with no way out.
No way but forward.
She turned to Tade, her smile more genuine now, though tinged with a sadness she couldn't shake.
"I guess that's family for you," she said softly.
Tade said nothing, just leaned back, his eyes never leaving hers, understanding the weight of her words more than anyone else ever had.
And for a moment, it almost felt like everything was okay.
But only for a moment.