A/N - I actually have nothing to say…
Chapter Fourteen: A Bath
With no fear of danger
Don't ever give up on yourself!
Shoot a burning arrow
A red flash fills the air!
~Flame Sniper
He closed his eyes. I'm so tired… The foamy water was warm and soothing to his weary body. I wish it would all end… He sighed and used a single graceful finger to pick a bunch of bubbles. He opened his tired eyes and inspected them. It looks so fragile… And he crushed them in his fist. What a pointless existence.
He stared at himself in the mirror. A boy, who bore about him an aura of fragility stared back. Brown hair mixed with bubbles, and fell in unruly locks around his head. His red eyes, dark and mistrusting, stared at him. His bare shoulders gave him a childish appearance.
"I hate myself." His voice bothered him as it was, for it had never changed, and had remained that same childish tone as for four years. It had high tones to it, which annoyed him beyond words. I hate this life. Why can't I die so that it's all over? He looked like a little kid.
And his build. He was so small and petite that it was almost ridiculous. Perhaps he had grown maybe four inches from when he was a younger kid… Practically everyone else towered over him. He had no visible muscles. All he had was a china doll appearance.
He stared at his hand. This lighting was perfect for seeing through his skin, to the falsity underneath. I am a freak. Just as Yamaki said. He slammed his fist into the wall. I hate my body! He silently sank deeper into his bath. Maybe I should tell someone, anyone… Would they be able to help me? He paid no attention to the dent in the metal wall of the bathtub.
No, no I shouldn't tell. They would probably laugh and say I'm lying, or call me a freak and run away. I won't tell anyone.
He sighed and stood up from his bath. His naked body told a secret which was deadly. He stared at himself in full for a few horrible seconds. He didn't even look human now. Maybe something pretending to be human. I probably did something bad. So bad I was cursed with this body. A cynical smile slid over his face as he thought what his parents would think. "Probably something like: 'You're a freak, not our son!'" That was funny, in a insane way.
He sighed, and examined a scar that ran around his stomach and on to his back. This must be from when I was attacked. By that Digimon with a sword. I wonder why I was saved. Perhaps they knew Aishuu was inside of me. He would have the scar for the rest of what life he had.
He pulled on some clothes, and was reaching for his shirt when the doorbell rang. He blinked in surprise. His parents were out, and would be for a long time. No body would come to see him, would they? He merely picked up his shirt, and carefully went downstairs, taking care not to trip.
He pulled open the door, and blinked in surprise again. "What…are you doing…here?"