The World Is Not Complicated
The world is not complicated. Reisuke had decided that long ago. There was good and there was bad. There just so happens to be more bad people and things in the world than good but that's okay because humans are an inherently evil species. Reisuke understands that.
He understands more than the average toddler. His parents taught him well in regard to the ways of the world. Reisuke has two sets of parents. He has the parents that created him. He also has parents that he created.
His "real" parents are hell spawn. Reisuke fucking hates them.
Reisuke's parents are always fighting. They always smell of liquor and preach peace as taught by their religion; their cult. Reisuke understands that the teachings his parents follows are not the teachings of most of society so Reisuke doesn't really understand what is outside of his immediate world.
Does anything exist outside of his immediate world? Reisuke doesn't have time to ponder that. Space is too big. The world is too big. But Reisuke's fundamental principles remain because even if the world is too big and space is even bigger, it's all the same. The world is not complex. It's full of good and bad; bad is more widespread and contagious.
Reisuke's second set of parents have a better grasp of this wider world than his real parents. Well, if his real parents do have a grasp of the wider world, they don't show it. Reisuke's second set of parents are big enough to fit around his fist but they aren't big enough to fit around his torso. They're not big enough to fit around him when he curls up asleep and they can't cuddle like a real family does: like the ones in books, on television shows, and in other households.
Other households are foreign land to Reisuke. Other children his age are so different. Their skins are so clear, devoid of blue and purple bruises, and they never have puffy eyes or smell like they hadn't been washed in days. It infuriates Reisuke because no matter how he spins it, he understands that its his family that is the abomination here.
In a strange twist of irony, it took a lot of time for Reisuke to grasp that concept. For a while, he was going to preschool. He had a yellow bucket hat and blue uniform with a flower crest and everything. It was amazing. He loved preschool – for a bit anyway.
He didn't like that no one understood anything. Not even his preschool teacher – a tall, smart rational adult with years and years of experience in the big, wide world – could understand Reisuke's micro world.
His preschool teacher doesn't understand that. She's an idiot. She smells nice, like play-dough and sunshine, but she isn't perfect. When Reisuke first met her, he was certain she was perfect. She wasn't battered and bruised. She smiled broadly and gave big hugs. But it is to Reisuke's understanding that she is an idiot. She doesn't understand anything about the world and the world is not that complicated.
Reisuke tried to make her understand. He tried to explain the way of the world to her but she rebuked his information. She seemed scared of him. 'Everyone gets hit if they don't listen.' he had told her; he had locked eyes with her and spoke with crisp happiness. That's when Reisuke's preschool teacher realised there was something off about this child. That's when Reisuke realised that there was something off about the world.
He had his certainties in the world but that preschool teacher tried to desecrate his because she couldn't bend to the real truth. It's not that hard. The world is not complicated.
Reisuke's parents know this extremely well. After all, Reisuke had learned a lot from his parents over the years because they were great, inhuman teachers. His parents were terrible people.
Reisuke was a terrible person as well.
Reisuke doesn't go to preschool anymore. Not because of what he had said to his preschool teacher but because it takes too much effort to get to school. His mother doesn't have the energy to take him and given that his father is rarely released from the grip of a drunken stupor, Reisuke can't go with his father either. Reisuke doesn't walk to preschool either. He could walk to preschool if he wanted to but he's not allowed in the gates if he's not uniform. His preschool uniform is rarely clean. However, the neighbour ladies and other children, they won't take him. They find him... eerie.
Reisuke doesn't mind though. Preschool is for idiots. He needs to grow up fast. He needs to grow up now so it's probably better if he stays home so he can learn the ways of the world. Although, if he wanted, Reisuke could learn from the adults his parents hang around. The adults that pray inside of the creepy church and do creepy things to that creepy girl who always seems within an inch of her frayed sanity. Reisuke doesn't like it there.
He had a good life once. That "church" ruined. It turned his parents into the monsters they are now. As a result of their demonic transformation, Reisuke changed as well. He became different. His eye for the morbid bettered. He realised just how fragile the world is. He realised how fragile humans are despite their tenacious, evil nature. We're all teetering between life and death. It's very easy to topple over into danger and die. It's as simple as that, honestly. These are all simple, simple things that contribute to the fact that the world is not complicated. It's so easy to understand and yet there are so many idiots, like his preschool teacher and other children, in the world who seem to ignore these plain-to-see truths.
That's why Reisuke is here: in this arena of bloodshed and wrath. He would win and he would take revenge. He would become a better person forged in violence but it would be for the better because, for once, there may be more good in the world than there is bad people and bad things.
That's why Reisuke would remould the world and it would become complicated because people would care for one another. They would see the best in one another. They would strive to preserve righteous ideals that Reisuke didn't really understand.
That's complicated.