The weight of a whole mountain sat on his chest, preventing him from filling his lungs with air. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't even say a word, couldn't plead for a chance to let some air into his lungs.
Takagi remained where he was, kneeling on top of Niragi's upper body and hitting him again and again and again. First his shoulder, then his forehead, then his throat. One time, his nose exploded with a massive pain, and he heard the shattering of his glasses. It had been the third for this year already. Warm blood ran down into the corners of his mouth, filling it with the already familiar taste. A broken nose, cracked ribs, dislocated shoulders… He'd experienced it all already.
If only he could drown out the laughter coming along with the pain. It wasn't fair that Takagi was enjoying this so much, that Niragi had to suffer day after day while the other boys just stood there and watched with grins on their faces. Would he stand there and grin as well if it hadn't been him?
This was unfair. And it hurt so much. Why couldn't he just breathe!
Maybe it'd be better if Takagi killed him. If he suffocated him with his blood-stained hands, or crashed his skull instead of the nose. Just kill me already. Release me from this hell.
But mercy was never something Takagi would consider. He'd think of something new each day, another way to torture. It wasn't always physical pain. Some days, they would simply follow Niragi all the way past the sunflower fields, creep behind him with outstretched hands and evil laughter. He'd wait for them to make the first punch, never knowing when it would happen.
On other days, they'd chase him. Make him believe that he was faster, that he actually had a chance to escape. But they'd always get him in the end, tear him down to the ground and beat him all bloody, just like today.
Blood was covering his eyes, filling his nose and mouth. He couldn't breathe, and he couldn't swallow down all the blood. He hated the metallic taste of it, hated it so much.
The mountain shifted, but he wasn't free yet. Takagi moved just so slightly that Niragi wouldn't pass out, and only because the beatings had stopped, he was far from done.
Niragi coughed out some blood, and it spilled over his already stained shirt. He was so tired of cleaning his clothes from the crimson all the time. People didn't even ask anymore, knowing that Niragi wouldn't tell them. He told no one, but enough of them had witnessed it already. They had seen and said nothing, simply averted their eyes and pretended not to notice.
"You know…", Takagi started with a wide grin, "I always thought your hairstyle was a bit… snobby. A new cut couldn't be bad, don't you think?"
Some of the boys surrounding them cheered and agreed noisily, and Niragi moaned when the throbbing pain inside his nose grew stronger now that the adrenaline was slowly passing. At least he had a full-year supply of pain killers waiting for him at home, right next to a hot bath and a set of fresh clothes. And George – his sister's hamster that he had begun to take care of after this little brat had lost interest and stopped feeding it.
The hiss of a lighter sounded right next to his ear, and Niragi stared at the bright flame with horror. Takagi wasn't actually going to burn him, was he? Bruises would fade, but burn marks… no, he really didn't want that!
But Takagi didn't aim for the face. He lifted a strand of black hair instead, pulling so hard at it that Niragi cried out, and singed the tips with his lighter. The stench of burnt hair filled Niragi's nose, so strong that his stomach turned. He felt the heat on his skin, but the flames died out before they could actually reach his forehead.
"Yeah, that's better. What do you say, Niragi? You should thank me – I'm only trying to help you to look cool!"
Niragi wanted to be cool; to spit the blood right into Takagi's face, to knock him over and beat him black and blue just like he did, but he couldn't do it. All he could manage was to squeeze his eyes shut and ignore the stench as good as possible while part after part of his hair was being singed, and he didn't even feel relief when the hissing of the lighter stopped.
He was just tired.
Takagi straightened himself and kicked his knee against Niragi's chin while doing so. The hit sent shivers through his head and the pain made him dizzy. "Now you've got a nice haircut and a new nose! Lucky day, eh?" he heard Takagi's voice through a noise similar to the rushing of a waterfall, far away and hollow.
One last move and Takagi finally stood up, and without the weight on his chest, Niragi felt like floating. As if he wasn't on the ground anymore but far, far above everyone, even higher than the clouds. If only he could be high enough for no one to reach and hurt him.
Something wet met his face as Takagi spit towards him, and some others followed the example of their leaders. Niragi didn't move, he listened to their footsteps with closed eyes as he waited for the rushing stream inside his ears to calm down. The laughter drowned out soon, and Niragi was left alone only with the summer breeze cooling his burning skin.
The flesh around his nose soon turned sore and swollen, not allowing him to breathe through his nose, but at least there was no more blood filling his mouth. He remained like this for what felt like hours; lying on the gravel with his arms wrapped around his shoulders and gasping for air.
One day it'd be over, and Niragi wouldn't have to go through this any longer. One day he'd be able to go home from school or university without fearing the shadows that could turn out as Takagi and his boys any time.
Niragi took his time sitting up. His head swirled and he was close to passing out several times, but he managed to put his upper body into an upright position eventually. The throbbing in his nose returned, but there was only a little fresh blood pouring out.
His eyes fell onto the sunflowers, dancing in the wind and clearly mocking him. They had watched everything for days, weeks, even months, witnessed his pain silently and still they dared to cheerfully move from side to side, to linger over him tauntingly.
Moving a blood-stained and shaking hand through his hair, Niragi felt crisps of burnt strands fall to the ground. One of them made him sneeze, and the new jolt of pain was almost too much to bear. He supported his body with both hands while the wave of sickening passed when he noticed something small burrowing into his palm.
As he released one hand from the ground, his eyes fell upon the bright blue plastic lighter that Takagi had used to singe his hair.
Under heavy huffs and grunts Niragi came to a stand and took a few wobbly steps towards the sunflowers. He could almost hear them laugh, and it drove him crazy. They didn't deserve to laugh. They didn't even deserve to be here, and he couldn't await the day where they'd be gone.
Only that he didn't have to wait for autumn to come, he realized. There was one way he could speed up the whole process, and he even managed a partway grin at the thought. His finger moved over the lighter, sparking a small flame that tried to lick over his skin in search for something to feed on. He would feed it, yes. There'd be plenty to devour, and it would not be his finger.
Niragi quickly made out the highest and most beautiful of all sunflowers and held the lighter towards its radiant petals. The flame hissed hungrily and jumped onto the flower with no need of the lighter's gas any longer. It turned the petals black, made them crumble like Niragi's hair, and red sparks rose up into the air.
It was only one flower at first, but the fire was too greedy to keep it at that. Within less than a minute, the first row of flowers was burning brightly, the air now filled with the sounds of crackling stems and dying plants. With enough fascination to drown out the pain of his broken nose, Niragi stood there and simply watched how the entire field subdued to the flames, how all those beautiful yellow and orange petals turned to charred corpses of shed beauty and power.
They wouldn't mock him any longer. They wouldn't dance in the wind while Niragi was being beaten in front of them. They had lost their strength, and now weed would sprawl all over the once mighty field of sunflowers.
The heat was almost unbearable, but Niragi couldn't step away. Something fixed his glance onto the spectacle, and he was enraptured by this beauty. Red. So much red. Red like the blood covering his face and clothes, red like the pain he felt with each new beat hammering down onto his body. Red like the flames engulfing his enemies, and red like the smoldering carcasses left on the ground.
It was the color of hate, and the color of revenge.
And within the following years, not a single sunflower would dare to grow on the scorched land.