Shi On didn't remember his parents. He didn't remember who named him, and could barely remember his earlier years before the Orphanage on Shia beyond the constant desperation, that constant need to survive. He remembers the soldiers, though. He found it hard to forget, especially when their blood had stained his hands, had splashed his face, was splattered on his clothing that was little more than rags. His first truly clear memory was when he first got to the Orphanage, of a young Lian telling him about Sarjalim, and her beliefs about what believing and worshiping them should be like. She said that it was a good thing to live, to survive, but she didn't understand the difference between the two. Shi On hardly knew the difference himself, as he had spent his entire life until then just doing what he needed to to survive. He asked her whether or not Sarjalim would forgive him for killing someone to survive, and she had no answer. At least, not one that satisfied him.
It was only when the Older Lian talked to him that he started to understand a little of what believing in Sarjalim meant. He still wasn't satisfied with the answers, not totally, because he was still in fight-or-flight mode, it was a permanent thing by now; it was all he'd ever known or been. Then, La Zulo ("You can call me Lazlo.") came into the picture. He was kind, but firm where Shi On needed him to be. It was with him that Shi On finally let himself lower his walls, even if it was slow progress. He had kissed his cheek, a gentle sensation Shi On had never experienced before. Lazlo had cared for Shi On in a way no one ever had, and, for the first time in he-didn't-know-how-long, he cried. Lazlo promised to b his best at making Shi On feel true emotions, and get him to genuinely laugh. That dream crashed a short time later, when Shi On learned that Lazlo had died in a vehicle accident.
Shi On went back to the orphanage, his metaphorical walls higher than ever before. His return sparked rumors among the other children, and Shi On hated it. He couldn't help it that he was a war orphan! He couldn't help the fact that the only person who seemed to legitimately care for him other than the Lian died! He couldn't help the fact that no one seemed to want anything to do with him!
He usually stayed awake long past the time when the others rooming with him were asleep, still trying to come to terms with the fact that La Zulo was gone, dead, he wasn't coming back!
. . .
Things only got slightly better for Shi On when he went off to school, though having a room alone might have had something to do with it. He ended up making his first... friend? Acquaintance? Shi On wasn't sure how to categorize Gyoku Ran, what with him being a seemingly oblivious, if happy, idiot. Gyoku Ran, for all his well meaning simply didn't see how uncomfortable Shi On was that one instance when Gyoku had invited him over. Shi On felt... Out of place. Gyoku Ran and his family had a dynamic that Shi On just found uncomfortable and strange. Everyone had been smiling, laughing, talking, or some mixture of the aforementioned. Shi On had wondered, distantly, later, "Would that have been Lazlo and I? Could we have been like that, me laughing freely and Lazlo looking on in amusement, if he hadn't died?"
Shi On spent that night dreaming of what could have been, instead of what was.