He looked up at his wall, noting the new messages from the villagers. These were not messages that a six year old should read. Not the scathing words or the hateful insults. The problem was, the villagers didn't seem to see him as the child he was, and he didn't know why.
He ran his fingers along the wall, tracing the many words that brought the all familiar tears to his eyes. He knew that those strangers in the masks would come and clean it up after the week, but it didn't seem to stop him from wishing it away.
For the past few weeks, he would come down to see his wall. His eyes fell to the comment that always seemed to be the first to appear. This one always caught his attention because he didn't understand it. Usually, the wall consisted of death threats or horrible insults, but this comment was different.
Go away, you demon fox!
It always confused him. He may have had six birthmarks that gave the appearance of whiskers, but he by no other means had the appearance of a fox. He wanted them to stop, but no matter how much he cried, the wall was always filled with these words. He looked up at the wall again with tear-streaked eyes, always hoping for something not heart-breaking.
Why couldn't anyone say anything nice? Why did they have to hurt him? He didn't do anything to them. After one more scan with no success, he finally gave in.
Then an idea came to him. He reached down to one of the paint buckets that were left by the villagers, sticking his hand inside.
When he pulled his hand out, it was coated in red paint. With a quick movement, he moved his hand over the wall, writing his own message. When he pulled away, he smiled at his creation.
You can do it! You aren't alone!
The words may have been his own, but just seeing them on the wall made him feel a little better. He turned and headed up the apartment building and stepped into his tiny house. Tonight was the first night that he went to bed with a smile on his face.
…
He woke up the next morning and walked down to his wall. His eyes scanned it, ignoring all words until he saw his happy little message scrawled at the bottom. With that encouragement, he would be able to make it through the academy today.
He put on his usual smile and walked happily into the school yard, waving at the kids he passed. Most of them ignored him, but a few went as far as to put their nose up at him. Why did they hate him? What did he do?
Before he lost his ability to control his smile, he changed his thought to something else. Scrolling through his mind, he didn't find anything. His whole life had been nothing but heart-ache, but he knew he couldn't cry here, so he continued to think.
You can do it! You aren't alone!
That's right! His smile returned at this thought and he continued into the school. When he sat at his desk, the teacher was talking to a strange blonde woman in a blue jacket. After a while, the teacher finally turned and introduced the blonde woman to the class.
He didn't care. The blonde woman would soon treat him the same as others, so he didn't listen for the name. He silently put his head down and let his mind wander.
His thoughts were stopped by a strange feeling, so he looked up to see the blonde woman staring at him. She was talking to the teacher still, but her gaze remained constant.
Why was this woman staring at him? What did he do wrong this time?
He put his head down to avoid the gaze, and he didn't come back up until the strange feeling went away. When he looked up again, the blonde woman had left and everyone went back to listening to the teacher. There was nothing else for him to do, so he sat and watched the teacher too.
…
The rest of the week seemed to fly by and he did not seem to see the blonde woman again. Maybe she was scared off too?
It didn't matter. If he ever felt down, he would walk down to the wall and stare at his message. The problem was that it was the end of the week and today was the day that those masked men would clean off the fence.
He decided that he was going to get up tomorrow morning and write another message. He smiled at the thought and drifted off to sleep.
When he woke up, he quietly made his way down to the wall. When he stopped, he was surprised to see that within that short time of it being clean, it was already mostly filled. He could feel warm tears running down his eyes as he saw the fox comment again.
He reached for the paint again and began to write a message.
You are super cool! Don't give up!
Even with those words, he could still feel tears, so he added more.
Don't cry! Smile!
He worked up a tiny smile at the message and turned to leave, but he was stopped by the feeling he was being watched, so he turned to see the blonde woman looking at him with a sad expression. He reeled back because he knew she would hit him. They always did.
He waited, but nothing happened, so he looked up and she wasn't there anymore. It looked like he scared her off again. He sighed and made his way to the academy.
…
The week went by the same way as always. He acted happy, he was ignored. He smiled, he was attacked, and the masked men saved him. He found food in his house again and chowed down. When the end of the week came again, he fell asleep early so he could write his message as soon as possible.
When the sun rose, he jumped out of bed and headed downstairs. He saw his wall and held back tears again as the insults littered the board. He found the usual fox comment and sighed.
He grabbed the paint again and dipped his hand in, getting ready to write more stuff, but he was stopped by something of the board. Someone had written their message in what looked like florescent paint, so it caught his eye easily. He looked at the message and frowned.
I'm here for you! I don't think you're useless or bad or any of those things that people say. I think that you are one special kid. Don't give up!
He was confused. He didn't write that. And he certainly wouldn't use florescent paint, someone might erase it. Why would that be there? Unless…
Someone didn't hate him? He felt tears again, but these were different. He didn't feel the sorrow that usually came with them. He quickly jumped to his feet and looked around, hoping for an answer to who wrote it.
He was stopped by the familiar feeling of being watched and he turned to see the blonde woman looking down at him. She was wearing a sad smile and had a kind look in her eyes.
The boy couldn't bring himself to ask if it was her, so he merely pointed to the message with a questioning look directed at her.
Her smile grew bigger and she nodded and he couldn't help himself. He ran to her and clung to her dress and cried as she held him close. He wasn't alone anymore.
Author's note: Heh, my first attempt at a one shot, while also being my first attempt at writing sad stuff. The whole time, I wanted it to be over because it was so sad. That's probably why it was so short. Sorry about that. For those of you who can't tell, this is an A/U Anywho, please review and tell me what you think.
