Warnings: Character death, child neglect, suicide, swearing in A/N, unbeta'd

The small boy saw very little of his mother at the age of ten, but it had been this way for as long as Haruka could remember, so he had grown accustomed to the absence over the years. It was hardly something a child around his age should have been able to do, however years of boredom and a spare kitchen had brought Haruka the gift of cooking and cleaning at such an age. And along with his gift came the scars from boiling pots and pans, knives and the lack of supervision from a responsible adult that all little children who liked cooking should have had from the dangers of the kitchen.

But Haruka had no such supervision, so his hands and arms were riddled said scars and burns, but at least he could make a meal that would please his mother whenever she cared enough to return home. Not that she ever remained at home anymore more than a few days for when she had no man with her to offer a place to stay for a month or two, away from the burdens of the child that she had bore with a man that had left her. Yes, Haruka and his studies obviously had to wait until Ms. Nanase had grown weary of her various flings with men all and sundry and decided to engage with her duties as a mother.

However, when those fated few days rolled by, Ms. Nanase would make up for the guilt that plagued her heart by treating her child to a taste of the outside world. This always consisted of shopping, as it became essential with how much Haruka had grown that new clothes had always been a necessity. The latter of the precious time Haruka spent with his mother was supposed to be spent however he liked, but a simple boy, who had remained inside closed doors for the majority of his childhood, thought very little of the fanciful ways a child could enjoy themselves in the outside world. So it often resulted in his mother taking him to places like theme parks and aquariums with the promise of a wonderful time and the two of them returning home exhausted, somewhat unsatisfied, but with some sort of souvenir in Haruka's hand without fail.

Haruka's life probably would have been less lonely if days like this were more common, maybe he would have even lived longer, but alas such days only occurred once in a blue moon. Before long, Ms. Nanase had abandoned her son once again for a man she scarcely knew, but was willing enough to live with in order to escape her duties as a mother. She had left workbooks and a collection of books for the homeschooled boy to study and complete before her next break, fresh groceries for Haruka to cook with and the new clothes bought from the recent shopping trip. Haruka's mother didn't even kiss the boy goodbye, as she locked the door for the next month or so.

And Haruka was perfectly fine with this routine. He had grown out of the stage of a hired caretaker to look after him and his mother's purse could no longer afford one, as the woman felt that she was spending enough with Haruka's living costs as it was. It seemed maintaining positive relationships with parents and other relatives she could shove her child onto was something Ms. Nanase didn't practice, unfortunate for the well-being of aforementioned child.

It was on such an occasion that Ms. Nanase's recent lover had invited her to go aboard with him to foreign lands. Believe it or not, the woman trembled slightly in hesitation as she packed away her passport (used only once before for a romantic three days in Paris) and the items of clothing needed for the weeklong trip. Despite the fact that Haruka had managed just fine before on trips where she had been away for three months, but that was when she was within the country. Food wasn't a problem, as Ms. Nanase had arranged a delivery service to bring Haruka groceries once a week, so the child was always well-fed. The neighbours were also ignorant of Haruka's existence. When they had met him once or twice, Haruka bore the guise of the woman's nephew, who was ironically in Ms. Nanase's care for a few days.

It was one of the rare instances that the woman actually cared for the well-being on her ten-year-old son, and it wrecked her mind with anxiety. It's wasn't particularly a problem for the younger one if social services had found him alone. They would have took the child and the burden of raising him off her hands, and the thought of that pleased Ms. Nanase very much. But, she knew that this wouldn't mean that she could live as freely as she pleased. If she was fortunate to have escaped without a prison sentence, the cost of hiring a lawyer would have destroyed her wallet. Besides, not many men saw appeal in a woman would already had a child, and much less appeal in one that had neglected said child. The absence of a male by her side meant a further dent in her purse for her expenditures, it may even result to her having to find a occupation yet again.

But would she sacrifice the opportunity of adventure aboard for the strange child that she scarcely cared for? The very concept of that seemed bizarre in the mind of Ms. Nanase, not a many women received such a wonderful chance, and it was the first time she had been invited to a foreign country. Besides, foreign men were a thing of wonder, or so she had heard. They were far more straightforward and honest than the men of Japan, even calling their ladies beautiful everyday and returning home from work with a bouquet in their hands. Oh, how Ms. Nanase longed to be pampered in such way! To treating like the absolute apple of their man's eye, wasn't that the dream of every woman? There was no way she could let go of such a man so easily, with her poor English and the lack tourists in the area, it would take another lifetime for her to find a man like that again.

With a touch more confidence in the decision she made, Ms. Nanase picked up the suitcase that she had bought especially for the trip and dragged it along the wooden floorboards of the corridor. She put the overly feminine case beside the shoe rack, ready for her departure. Cautiously, the woman walked over to her son, busy cooking by the stove, standing on a stool as the boy was too short to reach the frying pan on his own. Haruka's mother felt as if she should say something about her trip aboard to her child, but wouldn't that throw the boy into a state of panic? It was one thing for your mother to be away in Osaka for a month, but in Holland for even just a week, Ms. Nanase wouldn't blame the boy for his fear, although how Haruka felt about her trip was hardly of her concern.

"Mum," said Haruka as he saw his mother enter the kitchen space. She was well-dressed and as beautiful as ever, just like every other time she went on a date with one of those men that reeked of alcohol and cigarette smoke. Her perfect hair and make-up wouldn't be so perfect when she returned home, mascara smudged and stray hairs falling from her bun, thoroughly burnt out from her adventures with older men and ready to allow her child to soothe away her worries. But Haruka hated it went his mother went on dates with such men, they always left her in mess, completely unworthy of her attention. Even though Haruka knew his mother didn't care for him, that didn't stop him from caring for her, "Won't you stay for dinner? I just finished cooking."

The pleading deep blue of Haruka's made it hard for Ms. Nanase to refuse her son's offer, and she grinned inwardly, thinking that charm the boy had must have certainly been from her genes. She joined Haruka at the dinner table, as the child was laying out the dishes. After all, her son was an exceptional cook for his age and she had heard that airplane food wasn't exactly pleasant, so the woman decided not to waste a good meal and settled down, joined by the little boy.

"Mum, I have been thinking," Haruka said in a thoughtful tone. It was strange for conversation to occur at the dinner table, as both of them had usually nothing to say to the other, and the meals were ate in an awkward silence that symbolised their poor relationship as mother and child. But today Haruka had something worth mentioning, which was quite strange for a child that spent all his days in the loneliness of the house. "I... I don't think you need to go on dates to find a dad for me. I think we are fine with just the two of us, I can cook and clean so you don't need to worry about that. All Mum has to do is-"

"Haru-kun. That's enough."

Ms. Nanase arose from the ground after she had put an end to her child's nonsensical blabbering for now. "I think I have had enough of dinner. You'll clean the plates like a good boy, won't you, Haru-kun?" the woman's voice grew cold, almost scolding, as addressed her child after the boy talked out of turn. It was the first time Haruka had said anything along the lines of this, it made Ms. Nanase wonder where this disobedience had came from, the child was always so well-behaved and not at all troublesome until this point. "Mama has to go away for a week. Don't go wandering outside, okay?"

The woman only glanced once shortly at her son's face, that look of dismay in those dark blue hues as the child's only wish had been crushed was almost enough for her cancel all her plans, cradle her Haruka in her arms and agree to everything that the boy uttered. She almost wanted to stay was Haruka forever, just like the boy had said, and be a good mother to him. She wanted to give Haruka more than just trips to amusement parks and souvenirs that held no meaning to either of them. She wanted to throw away everything and make Haruka the only male in her life for the rest of her life, and to love him the way that she should have since her child had been born.

But, Ms. Nanase knew that was impossible for a woman like her, to love her child the way that all mothers should, it wasn't something she was capable of doing. As much as she adored her child - much more so than she would allow herself to admit - she knew that she would never be the mother that Haruka wanted and deserved. With that new resolve, Ms. Nanase turned the other cheek to the silent pleads of her child and walked out of the house. A soft click was heard as the door shut closed, followed by the twist of the house key in the lock, trapping Haruka inside for more than an eternity.

The boy just stared for a few minutes at the door that had forcefully separated him from the outside world, and most importantly, from the mother that he longed to be with so badly. Haruka's throat was dry as he struggled to make noise, but that didn't stop the tears from streaming down his cheeks in the silence of the room. They only made a sound when they hit the ground, small splashes against the wooden floorboards. But of course, no one heard, not even Haruka himself, as his mind was filled with nothing other than his own grieve and loneliness. The child may have scarcely noticed it before, but inside the realm of his own adobe, he was in complete isolation from contact with others.

The feeling of abandonment daunted him as Haruka collapsed to his knees in his own overwhelming solitude. He looked the empty space, was this all he was worth? This nothingness? Undeserving of the only thing he loved? She wasn't gone for long yet, only ten minutes at the most had passed since she walked out of the door to who knows where, but even though she had said she would return in a week, Haruka knew she would never come back to him forever. All of what the child had done so far, the cooking, cleaning and studying, it was complete waste, pointless and insignificant, now that he knew he would never have his mother. What was there to live for, Haruka thought, he was no longer kneeling, but laying on the entrance's floor, curled up in a protective ball. The tears grew noisier as soft whimpers escaped the boy's mouth, the wetness drenched the floorboard, and Haruka felt as if he could sleep in the puddle he had created.

Harsh sunshine greeted him the next morning as he arose from the salty mess he had fell asleep in, trembling knees could barely support the child as he walked over to the dinner table. The dinner he had made had spoilt overnight - it was no good to eat, no good for anything. Haruka could laugh at how much he suddenly had in common with the sad pile of dried rice and the sorrow-filled mackerel, but he was unable to do such a thing, so the chilling silence continued to hang over the house as he threw away the meal in the bin and piled the dishes by the sink. Before what had transpired last evening, Haruka would have never thought he'd see a trash can in a different light, but here he was, staring at the object and its rotting content, contemplating the meaning of his life.

A good few minutes passed before Haruka snapped out of his trance; somewhere in the back of his mind, something ticked like a bomb as he went into autopilot cleaning the plates, standing on his stool because he was too short. Deep blue hues glazed over, watching the soapy suds disappear with the warm water. The soap suds took away the grime from the plates away with it, and there was something fascinating about it all: the water, the soap and the grime. The pureness of the soap suds removed the grime from the plates, but as they did so, they become dirty themselves, and both the soap suds and their filth was washed away from the cleanliness of the sink by the water. Haruka certainly felt dirty, but not like the dirty plate, he was dirty like the soap suds. He was the kind of dirty that was no longer useful, he was the kind of dirty that needed to be washed away by the water.

And suddenly, it was all clear again in Haruka's mind. He knew what his life was about, he knew what his purpose was: the soap suds. And his mother was a plate, he needed to cleanse and purify her when she got dirty from the disgusting men that reeked of alcohol and cigarettes, and when he got dirty, he needed the water to wash him away. He needed it to wash him away down the drain, to a dark place, a dark and dirty place where dirty things like him belonged. Yes, that was where Haruka needed to go, not to the outside world, not to his mother, but away with the water.

So that's where Haruka decided to go, to a place where the water could wash him, so he could feel clean again. The small footsteps against the wooden floorboard make as little as possible sound, the boy walked through the house to the bathroom. Haruka forced the sliding door to the other room open with a gentle push, his bare feet stepped on the damp, cold tiles as he entered the bathroom. He stopped by the clothes hamper to undress, shivering a little as the heating was turned off, but that wouldn't matter once he was in the water. As the last piece of clothing left his body, Haruka turned the dial and allowed cool water to fill up the bathtub. The water filled at least half of the bathtub before he placed a foot in the tub and let the rest of his body follow.

Haruka laid there for as long as he felt clean again, it felt good just as the water surrounded his body. It was more than relaxing, watching droplets trickle down the side of the bathtub and sinking lower and lower under the running water. The boy shut his eyes and allowed himself to be lulled into a state of bliss, as his consciousness slipped away as his head slipped under the water. Fighting back the impulse to grasp of a breath of air, Haruka decided he didn't need air, not when he had water slowly filling his lungs as he chest sunk to the bottom of the bathtub. His fingers curled out of a fist and his limbs relaxed as he laid there still, the continuously flowing water encased him like a coffin.

Haruka had finally went to that dark place where he belonged, and the water had took him there.

Hory sheet, what have I just written. I swear I didn't plan Haruka to commit suicide, I didn't plan the detail I put into Ms. Nanase's perspective. It just happened and created this fucked up death, oh god. The rating is definitely changing into a M, it has to sooner or later (for *cough, cough* smut *cough, cough*)

Anyway, Happy New Year, guys. This is the weirdest New Year update, like, have a dead shota!Haruka to celebrate the end of last year. And on that note, you guys would be happy to know that my New Year's resolution is to finish writing my fanfics. So, I'm gonna do my best to stick to that.