Rimnerel: Okay, so I don't have that much time to do everything that I
wanted to do. And I still have no time for myself.
Tyson: You have Saturday off. Stop complaining. Anyway, aren't we supposed to be discussing the last chapter of Scars or the next chapter?
Nakoruru: Tyson's right for once. We really should get to work.
Rimnerel: I know. We want to thank everyone for reviewing the last chapter and for liking it so much. No let's get on to the story. Warning, a bit of angst and such in this chapter also, just to warn some of you who have a tendency to cry a lot.
--------------------------------
Tala set up his blade once more to practice his launching for the morning's training. The next time he was going to face Tyson of the Bladebreakers, it wasn't going to be the same. No enhancements from Boris or his scientists, no strange injections, no enhanced beyblade. It was going to be by his power alone.
Aiming his blade at the tree he was using for practice, he narrowed his eyes. "Go Wolborg!" Pulling the ripcord with all his might, he watched the blade head at the tree once more. This time when it connected with the base, some of the bark splintered away as the blade dug into the bark. His Wolborg continued biting into the tree until the sounds of cracking sounded. The tree he had been working on so intently finally gave way under the assault, crashing to the ground.
Opening his hand, Tala caught the blade that returned to him. Looking at his handy work with a smile, he was about to head back for the day when he was aware of the sounds of crunching snow under footfalls. Turning around, the red head found his teammates running towards him. Slipping his usual face back on, he gave them a cool stare. He didn't know why, but around them, he didn't feel so comfortable letting down his guard, as if they were always watching for the slightest indication he wasn't whom they thought they knew.
The three boys slowed down when they reached Tala. The red head shoved his blade into his pocket. "What is it?"
"Nothing much. We were just curious to know if you knew?" Ian said.
"Knew? Know what?" the red haired captain of the Demolition Boys asked staring at the young boy. Turning his attention from Ian, he gave Bryan and Spencer a curious glance. "Has something happened?"
"You haven't heard yet?" Bryan stated, the rare emotion of shock coming into his eyes.
"Why do you think I just asked?" Tala responded.
"Seriously, you haven't heard?" Spencer said.
"Look, if I already knew whatever it was you're talking about, I would have said yes by now." Tala's tone iced over with annoyance.
"Since you haven't heard, we'll tell you," Ian remarked.
"Please do before I die of curiosity," Tala said sarcastically.
"Well, we just heard that two days ago, one of the members on the Bladebreakers team tried to commit suicide. We don't all the details, but everyone in the B.B.A. in Japan's district is worried. They're keeping things low for now, so we don't know all the details. The only reason that we heard was because Boris was talking to Lord Voltaire, since Kai is team captain of the team," Bryan stated.
"I see. Well, that's not our concern," Tala shrugged indifferently, or at least it seemed to his team. Inside, he was actually full of concern. It had to be the one he met that night after World Championships were over, Kenny. So...he couldn't change anything and resorted back to his old methods. "We have better things to do." Tala turned away from his team.
"Where are you going?" Spencer questioned.
"Out. I'm going somewhere else to train for the day." And with that, the male was off, but rather than train, he had other things on his mind. One being a certain brunette his words didn't seem to reach.
--------------------
{Flashback}
Kenny walked into his living room from walking home from school, looking around to find the floor was still littered with beer cans. The ashtray was still filled with cigarette butts. A box was still on the end of the living room table where it was left two days ago. His father was sleep on the couch, the remote in his hand, and the male was snoring loudly.
Kenny quietly made his way through the mess on the floor, doing his best not to alert his father of his presence in the house. Yet fate would have it no other way. His foot hits an empty can, causing it to clatter. That was enough to wake up the sleeping man on the couch. His red eyes glared around, until they targeted in on Kenny, who froze in mid step.
"What do you think you're doing boy?" his father said with sleep slurred words. "Where have you been?"
"Today was the first day of second grade," Kenny said quietly. "I left before you got up. I didn't want to wake you up."
"School? Are you lying to me boy?" his father held that dangerous tone he knew by now.
"No sir, honestly I went to school," Kenny said.
"How can I be sure that you didn't sneak off somewhere?" Kenny's father got up from his seat on the couch, walking over to the boy. Kenny backed up until his movement, was stopped by the wall, his frame shook with terror. His father's shadow loomed over him, descending over the little boy in an intimidating manner.
"I'm telling the truth. I went to school, you can check with the school. Why would I sneak off some—"Kenny didn't expect the hard slap that came, which tilted him off balance. Steadying himself, he stared up at his father, blinking back the tears ready to fall.
"Watch your tone boy," his father threatened.
"Forgive me sir," he said softly. "It's true though. I went to school today."
"You better not be lying to me boy," his father said, turning to go sit back on the couch. Kenny got up from the ground, wiping away the tear that rolled down his cheek. He would have to get the swelling down before he went to school the next day. If anyone found out that his father hit him, who knew what the man would do to him next. Walking into the kitchen, Kenny slipped off his school bag, placing it on the kitchen table.
Pushing a chair over to the fridge, Kenny climbed up on it, opening the freezer and pulling out a tray of ice. Closing it back, the little boy went over to the sink, pulling out a towel and dumping the tray of ice in it. Wrapping it up, Kenny placed it to his stinging cheek, sitting at the table for a long time until his face became numb. If only he could become like that. If only he didn't feel pain when his father hit him, if only tears didn't come up, he could take it.
He hated the throbbing in his chest that grew heavier each year that passed. His only escape from this was in books. Since he forced himself to learn things to forget the loneliness and pain, he found a burning desire to learn greater things. Everyone commented on how smart he was for his age, yet he didn't feel smart. Not when his father continued to shout he was a worthless idiot all the time. How smart was he if his father pointed out all his flaws, all his mistakes, and shortcomings.
"Boy, what do you think you're doing?" The voice made Kenny jump in his chair, turning around to see his father standing in the doorway of the kitchen. His father's dark brown eyes watching every move he made.
"It was going to swell...I didn't want to go to school like that," Kenny responded.
A short smile rose to his father's face, as he sauntered into the kitchen. "You think you're so smart, don't you boy?"
"No...I don't." Though simple enough, the remark cost him another slap, knocking him out of the chair. The ice went clattering across the floor. Kenny had little time to move when he felt something come across side. A loud gasp of pain escaped the little boy's lips as he looked up in time to see that the weapon of choice today was a cord. Where the man got it from was the least of concerns on Kenny's mind as he tried to scramble away.
"So you want to smart mouth your father now?"
"No!" Kenny scrambled under the table, as his father tried to catch hold of his foot. Successfully avoiding being caught, Kenny shot out of the room, almost stumbling in the attempt. His father was not too far behind him.
"Come back here boy!" the male growled.
Kenny didn't listen to his father, making his way for the only safe place he knew, the closet his father use to lock him in when he was five. Making it inside, Kenny made it inside, shutting the door and holding it. His entire body shook as he braced himself for the struggle to get the door open. The door rattled, being yanked every now and then as the two fought with the door. After a while the noises stopped and Kenny heard a soft click. Silence was established for a long moment before his father spoke up.
"You want to stay in there, fine with me. I don't feel like dealing with you, you little stupid bastard." Kenny sank down to the ground, breathing heavily as the pain in his chest returned full force. Curling into a ball, he waited for the pain to settle down, trying to still the tears that ran down his face. It was more than half a week before his father remembered to let him out to closet, but by then, the pain in his chest had gone away.
{Flashback ends}
---------------
Tyson sat by Kenny's bed, listening to the beeping of the machine that monitor, his friend's heart rate. Besides the occasion whimper from the brunette, the monitor was the only thing that reminded him that the male was still alive. He was fearful that while sitting there, all of a sudden, he would only hear the long continuous beep that would signal Kenny's death. The last thing he needed was to go back and tell the brunette's parents he left their son die.
"Kenny, you gotta pull through this. Wake up, tell me your side of things," Tyson whispered.
"Tyson..." Max's voice reached the blue haired male, who turned to stare at his teammate. The usually bright and energetic Draciel wielder looked as bad as Tyson and the others. Max's eyes were red from repeatedly crying, dark rings started to form under his eyes from lack of sleep, worrying over Kenny. Even Kai, who usually didn't let anything get to him, was having a hard time.
"Max, what is it?" Tyson asked.
"Rei and I...we were looking through Kenny's stuff..."
"And?" Tyson was hopeful that this had the answer to why Kenny would do something like this.
"We found this." Max walked up to Tyson, holding up a bound black book. "Kenny was writing things in this, lots of poems. There's one...I think you should hear it."
Max flipped through the book until he found the one that he and Rei stopped on. Tyson held his breath so he could hear every word that was written. Max, for a moment seemed like he was going to break down into tears. But sucked it in, knowing that Tyson wanted to hear what was there. Opening his mouth, the blond read what was on the paper, what Kenny entitled 'Chances of Darkness.'
"Chances of darkness spread, seeping from wounds that continue to flood with dead blood. Aching heart never heals so I wait for the chances. The darkness crawling across my body, a lover I know well. Close my eyes, eternity of falling into a sea. Sweeping forth through these wounds. Touching, searing, mocking that life extinguished long ago. The sound of cherub angels far, a pin that's echoing from being dropped. Reaching out grasping nothing but water and blood, I choose neither. Now never clean, wings at my feet, I see not so again I wait. In a sandbox filling with time."
"What do you think it means?" Tyson asked Max after a long minute of silence, turning his eyes back to the still unconscious male. When was he going to wake up? When was he going to tell them why he tried to do it?
"I don't know. This book...it's really old. Like he's been doing stuff like this over the years. Do you think it has something to do with his childhood? Like maybe his parents hurt him so much he just couldn't take it anymore?"
"But...I met his mom once. She was really nice. I know she worried about Kenny a lot, and was really happy that he made friends. I don't think she could have done anything to hurt Kenny, when you look into her eyes, you could see how much she cared about him," Tyson said in defense.
"Maybe his father hurt him in secret," Max suggested.
"It seems so hard to believe someone you care about so much...that you trust that much could cause you so much pain. It's like with Kai. He's taking this harder than the rest of us because he couldn't see it," Tyson admitted.
"What?"
Tyson stared down at his hands, tears welling up in his eyes. "Last night, Kai...broke down and cried in my arms. He told me how his grandfather treated him when he was younger. That he knows the pain Kenny must have been going through for so long, yet he didn't see the signs. It's hurt him deeply, Max. I couldn't say a word, all I could do was hold him as he cried."
"Tyson." Max watched his friend's dark stormy eyes turn almost black.
"Why didn't he tell us? Why didn't he give us a sign? He was always smiling, always joking while this ate away at him! It's not fair to us to be left in the dark like this!" Tyson cried, tears running down his face. "Doesn't he know how much we care about him? He's our friend, but he just made it seem we were just...just...strangers. I hate this feeling in my heart. I hate it so much!"
"I..." Usually Max had a positive response ready, but even he felt at the end of his rope wracking his brain. He was tired, he couldn't sleep, he hardly ate, he was always crying. He just wanted answers to why now. "I...don't...know..."
Downstairs in Judy, Tyson's dad and grandfather sat with Mr. Dickenson in a small conference area they borrowed from the staff. The four adults were looking grim, silence eating away at them. Judy was the one that started the conversation. Her blue eyes were tinged with red from the tears she shed trying to comfort her son.
"I talked to the doctor today. He said Kenny may have slipped into a light coma, but can wake up at any time. He's showing better signs than anyone expected," she said quietly.
"But that doesn't take away from the fact we still don't know why he decided to overdose that like," Tyson's father stated. "Mr. Dickenson, how are the boys doing?"
The elder head of Japan's B.B.A sighed, shaking his head. When I went to check on them this morning...it's gotten worst. I thought Kai would hold them together during this time, but he's in the same distress as his team. His eyes looked so painful to me I couldn't ask him how the others were doing."
"What are we going to do?" Tyson's grandfather inquired. "Even little dude is out of it. He doesn't leave Kenny's side for much."
"We'll have to dig at his past if we hope to uncover anything," Judy finally said. "Do you think we should contact his parents?"
"Not yet. We don't know if they're the cause or not," Tyson's father said. "They may deny ever knowing this happened to him. But where should we start?"
"We should check police reports from the pass five years to see if there was a report of child abuse concerning any children being brutally stabbed that fit Kenny's description," Mr. Dickenson suggested.
"What's his last name in case we find out something?"
"It's Shinoda. Someone should stay here in Russia with the boys while the rest of us go back to Japan to see what we can dig up," Judy voiced.
"I'll stay with them," Tyson's grandfather volunteered.
"Okay, then. Make sure you get in contact with us if he wakes up," Mr. Dickenson said.
"Right."
---------------
{Flashback}
Kenny's eyes opened, hearing the lock being disengaged. Quickly huddling in the corner of the closet. The light that flooded in temporarily blinded the little boy as he stared up at the man giving him a disgusted look. The man was drunk again he knew it.
"Get up boy," the male growled.
"Please don't," the little boy whispered.
"I said get up!" Without waiting for him to move, Kenny's father yanked him from out of the closet. Tossing him against a wall. Kenny yelped, trying to get his grounds, but a foot came square into his chest, knocking all the air out of his body. Weak from no food and water for six days, the boy dropped like a bag of flour. "I said get up!"
"I can't," Kenny whimpered.
"Get the fuck up you little piece of shit. You nearly got me in trouble. Your damn school called asking about you. I had to lie and tell them you were sick. Why do you have to be so worthless?" Another foot came in contact with Kenny's chest, the little boy crying out from the blow.
"I'm sorry!" Tears trickled down his face.
"Sorry doesn't help now, does it? Get up, or I swear to God that I'm going to really give you something to cry about boy," his father growled.
"I'm sorry!" the little boy curled into a ball, trying to protect himself from the assault but nothing worked to make the blows any less painful.
"I know you're sorry," his father said, picking up a piece of extension cord that was nearby. The first lash brought out a silent cry from the boy. The second one brought a strangled whimper of pain, the third a sob that racked his entire body. The fourth one just numbed everything the other three blows previously struck.
One after another, the blows rained down, until he found comfort in unconsciousness. In the thought that maybe he would sink so deep he didn't have to feel the pain anymore. That was probably the first time he thought about death, about his life ending because he had no future ahead. He had a feeling things would always be like that.
{Flashback ends}
--------------------------------------
Rimnerel: Okay, I think I'm going to quit for this chapter. I'm about to cry myself. Especially adding in my poem for Kenny's notebook.
Nakoruru: Well, if you think about it, Good Charlotte's "Hold On" is playing repeatedly in the background while we write. So what do you expect?
Rimnerel: True. Well...I guess we should get going now. We finally accomplished our angst level for this chapter. Tell us how you like it, and we will update this week.
Tyson: You have Saturday off. Stop complaining. Anyway, aren't we supposed to be discussing the last chapter of Scars or the next chapter?
Nakoruru: Tyson's right for once. We really should get to work.
Rimnerel: I know. We want to thank everyone for reviewing the last chapter and for liking it so much. No let's get on to the story. Warning, a bit of angst and such in this chapter also, just to warn some of you who have a tendency to cry a lot.
--------------------------------
Tala set up his blade once more to practice his launching for the morning's training. The next time he was going to face Tyson of the Bladebreakers, it wasn't going to be the same. No enhancements from Boris or his scientists, no strange injections, no enhanced beyblade. It was going to be by his power alone.
Aiming his blade at the tree he was using for practice, he narrowed his eyes. "Go Wolborg!" Pulling the ripcord with all his might, he watched the blade head at the tree once more. This time when it connected with the base, some of the bark splintered away as the blade dug into the bark. His Wolborg continued biting into the tree until the sounds of cracking sounded. The tree he had been working on so intently finally gave way under the assault, crashing to the ground.
Opening his hand, Tala caught the blade that returned to him. Looking at his handy work with a smile, he was about to head back for the day when he was aware of the sounds of crunching snow under footfalls. Turning around, the red head found his teammates running towards him. Slipping his usual face back on, he gave them a cool stare. He didn't know why, but around them, he didn't feel so comfortable letting down his guard, as if they were always watching for the slightest indication he wasn't whom they thought they knew.
The three boys slowed down when they reached Tala. The red head shoved his blade into his pocket. "What is it?"
"Nothing much. We were just curious to know if you knew?" Ian said.
"Knew? Know what?" the red haired captain of the Demolition Boys asked staring at the young boy. Turning his attention from Ian, he gave Bryan and Spencer a curious glance. "Has something happened?"
"You haven't heard yet?" Bryan stated, the rare emotion of shock coming into his eyes.
"Why do you think I just asked?" Tala responded.
"Seriously, you haven't heard?" Spencer said.
"Look, if I already knew whatever it was you're talking about, I would have said yes by now." Tala's tone iced over with annoyance.
"Since you haven't heard, we'll tell you," Ian remarked.
"Please do before I die of curiosity," Tala said sarcastically.
"Well, we just heard that two days ago, one of the members on the Bladebreakers team tried to commit suicide. We don't all the details, but everyone in the B.B.A. in Japan's district is worried. They're keeping things low for now, so we don't know all the details. The only reason that we heard was because Boris was talking to Lord Voltaire, since Kai is team captain of the team," Bryan stated.
"I see. Well, that's not our concern," Tala shrugged indifferently, or at least it seemed to his team. Inside, he was actually full of concern. It had to be the one he met that night after World Championships were over, Kenny. So...he couldn't change anything and resorted back to his old methods. "We have better things to do." Tala turned away from his team.
"Where are you going?" Spencer questioned.
"Out. I'm going somewhere else to train for the day." And with that, the male was off, but rather than train, he had other things on his mind. One being a certain brunette his words didn't seem to reach.
--------------------
{Flashback}
Kenny walked into his living room from walking home from school, looking around to find the floor was still littered with beer cans. The ashtray was still filled with cigarette butts. A box was still on the end of the living room table where it was left two days ago. His father was sleep on the couch, the remote in his hand, and the male was snoring loudly.
Kenny quietly made his way through the mess on the floor, doing his best not to alert his father of his presence in the house. Yet fate would have it no other way. His foot hits an empty can, causing it to clatter. That was enough to wake up the sleeping man on the couch. His red eyes glared around, until they targeted in on Kenny, who froze in mid step.
"What do you think you're doing boy?" his father said with sleep slurred words. "Where have you been?"
"Today was the first day of second grade," Kenny said quietly. "I left before you got up. I didn't want to wake you up."
"School? Are you lying to me boy?" his father held that dangerous tone he knew by now.
"No sir, honestly I went to school," Kenny said.
"How can I be sure that you didn't sneak off somewhere?" Kenny's father got up from his seat on the couch, walking over to the boy. Kenny backed up until his movement, was stopped by the wall, his frame shook with terror. His father's shadow loomed over him, descending over the little boy in an intimidating manner.
"I'm telling the truth. I went to school, you can check with the school. Why would I sneak off some—"Kenny didn't expect the hard slap that came, which tilted him off balance. Steadying himself, he stared up at his father, blinking back the tears ready to fall.
"Watch your tone boy," his father threatened.
"Forgive me sir," he said softly. "It's true though. I went to school today."
"You better not be lying to me boy," his father said, turning to go sit back on the couch. Kenny got up from the ground, wiping away the tear that rolled down his cheek. He would have to get the swelling down before he went to school the next day. If anyone found out that his father hit him, who knew what the man would do to him next. Walking into the kitchen, Kenny slipped off his school bag, placing it on the kitchen table.
Pushing a chair over to the fridge, Kenny climbed up on it, opening the freezer and pulling out a tray of ice. Closing it back, the little boy went over to the sink, pulling out a towel and dumping the tray of ice in it. Wrapping it up, Kenny placed it to his stinging cheek, sitting at the table for a long time until his face became numb. If only he could become like that. If only he didn't feel pain when his father hit him, if only tears didn't come up, he could take it.
He hated the throbbing in his chest that grew heavier each year that passed. His only escape from this was in books. Since he forced himself to learn things to forget the loneliness and pain, he found a burning desire to learn greater things. Everyone commented on how smart he was for his age, yet he didn't feel smart. Not when his father continued to shout he was a worthless idiot all the time. How smart was he if his father pointed out all his flaws, all his mistakes, and shortcomings.
"Boy, what do you think you're doing?" The voice made Kenny jump in his chair, turning around to see his father standing in the doorway of the kitchen. His father's dark brown eyes watching every move he made.
"It was going to swell...I didn't want to go to school like that," Kenny responded.
A short smile rose to his father's face, as he sauntered into the kitchen. "You think you're so smart, don't you boy?"
"No...I don't." Though simple enough, the remark cost him another slap, knocking him out of the chair. The ice went clattering across the floor. Kenny had little time to move when he felt something come across side. A loud gasp of pain escaped the little boy's lips as he looked up in time to see that the weapon of choice today was a cord. Where the man got it from was the least of concerns on Kenny's mind as he tried to scramble away.
"So you want to smart mouth your father now?"
"No!" Kenny scrambled under the table, as his father tried to catch hold of his foot. Successfully avoiding being caught, Kenny shot out of the room, almost stumbling in the attempt. His father was not too far behind him.
"Come back here boy!" the male growled.
Kenny didn't listen to his father, making his way for the only safe place he knew, the closet his father use to lock him in when he was five. Making it inside, Kenny made it inside, shutting the door and holding it. His entire body shook as he braced himself for the struggle to get the door open. The door rattled, being yanked every now and then as the two fought with the door. After a while the noises stopped and Kenny heard a soft click. Silence was established for a long moment before his father spoke up.
"You want to stay in there, fine with me. I don't feel like dealing with you, you little stupid bastard." Kenny sank down to the ground, breathing heavily as the pain in his chest returned full force. Curling into a ball, he waited for the pain to settle down, trying to still the tears that ran down his face. It was more than half a week before his father remembered to let him out to closet, but by then, the pain in his chest had gone away.
{Flashback ends}
---------------
Tyson sat by Kenny's bed, listening to the beeping of the machine that monitor, his friend's heart rate. Besides the occasion whimper from the brunette, the monitor was the only thing that reminded him that the male was still alive. He was fearful that while sitting there, all of a sudden, he would only hear the long continuous beep that would signal Kenny's death. The last thing he needed was to go back and tell the brunette's parents he left their son die.
"Kenny, you gotta pull through this. Wake up, tell me your side of things," Tyson whispered.
"Tyson..." Max's voice reached the blue haired male, who turned to stare at his teammate. The usually bright and energetic Draciel wielder looked as bad as Tyson and the others. Max's eyes were red from repeatedly crying, dark rings started to form under his eyes from lack of sleep, worrying over Kenny. Even Kai, who usually didn't let anything get to him, was having a hard time.
"Max, what is it?" Tyson asked.
"Rei and I...we were looking through Kenny's stuff..."
"And?" Tyson was hopeful that this had the answer to why Kenny would do something like this.
"We found this." Max walked up to Tyson, holding up a bound black book. "Kenny was writing things in this, lots of poems. There's one...I think you should hear it."
Max flipped through the book until he found the one that he and Rei stopped on. Tyson held his breath so he could hear every word that was written. Max, for a moment seemed like he was going to break down into tears. But sucked it in, knowing that Tyson wanted to hear what was there. Opening his mouth, the blond read what was on the paper, what Kenny entitled 'Chances of Darkness.'
"Chances of darkness spread, seeping from wounds that continue to flood with dead blood. Aching heart never heals so I wait for the chances. The darkness crawling across my body, a lover I know well. Close my eyes, eternity of falling into a sea. Sweeping forth through these wounds. Touching, searing, mocking that life extinguished long ago. The sound of cherub angels far, a pin that's echoing from being dropped. Reaching out grasping nothing but water and blood, I choose neither. Now never clean, wings at my feet, I see not so again I wait. In a sandbox filling with time."
"What do you think it means?" Tyson asked Max after a long minute of silence, turning his eyes back to the still unconscious male. When was he going to wake up? When was he going to tell them why he tried to do it?
"I don't know. This book...it's really old. Like he's been doing stuff like this over the years. Do you think it has something to do with his childhood? Like maybe his parents hurt him so much he just couldn't take it anymore?"
"But...I met his mom once. She was really nice. I know she worried about Kenny a lot, and was really happy that he made friends. I don't think she could have done anything to hurt Kenny, when you look into her eyes, you could see how much she cared about him," Tyson said in defense.
"Maybe his father hurt him in secret," Max suggested.
"It seems so hard to believe someone you care about so much...that you trust that much could cause you so much pain. It's like with Kai. He's taking this harder than the rest of us because he couldn't see it," Tyson admitted.
"What?"
Tyson stared down at his hands, tears welling up in his eyes. "Last night, Kai...broke down and cried in my arms. He told me how his grandfather treated him when he was younger. That he knows the pain Kenny must have been going through for so long, yet he didn't see the signs. It's hurt him deeply, Max. I couldn't say a word, all I could do was hold him as he cried."
"Tyson." Max watched his friend's dark stormy eyes turn almost black.
"Why didn't he tell us? Why didn't he give us a sign? He was always smiling, always joking while this ate away at him! It's not fair to us to be left in the dark like this!" Tyson cried, tears running down his face. "Doesn't he know how much we care about him? He's our friend, but he just made it seem we were just...just...strangers. I hate this feeling in my heart. I hate it so much!"
"I..." Usually Max had a positive response ready, but even he felt at the end of his rope wracking his brain. He was tired, he couldn't sleep, he hardly ate, he was always crying. He just wanted answers to why now. "I...don't...know..."
Downstairs in Judy, Tyson's dad and grandfather sat with Mr. Dickenson in a small conference area they borrowed from the staff. The four adults were looking grim, silence eating away at them. Judy was the one that started the conversation. Her blue eyes were tinged with red from the tears she shed trying to comfort her son.
"I talked to the doctor today. He said Kenny may have slipped into a light coma, but can wake up at any time. He's showing better signs than anyone expected," she said quietly.
"But that doesn't take away from the fact we still don't know why he decided to overdose that like," Tyson's father stated. "Mr. Dickenson, how are the boys doing?"
The elder head of Japan's B.B.A sighed, shaking his head. When I went to check on them this morning...it's gotten worst. I thought Kai would hold them together during this time, but he's in the same distress as his team. His eyes looked so painful to me I couldn't ask him how the others were doing."
"What are we going to do?" Tyson's grandfather inquired. "Even little dude is out of it. He doesn't leave Kenny's side for much."
"We'll have to dig at his past if we hope to uncover anything," Judy finally said. "Do you think we should contact his parents?"
"Not yet. We don't know if they're the cause or not," Tyson's father said. "They may deny ever knowing this happened to him. But where should we start?"
"We should check police reports from the pass five years to see if there was a report of child abuse concerning any children being brutally stabbed that fit Kenny's description," Mr. Dickenson suggested.
"What's his last name in case we find out something?"
"It's Shinoda. Someone should stay here in Russia with the boys while the rest of us go back to Japan to see what we can dig up," Judy voiced.
"I'll stay with them," Tyson's grandfather volunteered.
"Okay, then. Make sure you get in contact with us if he wakes up," Mr. Dickenson said.
"Right."
---------------
{Flashback}
Kenny's eyes opened, hearing the lock being disengaged. Quickly huddling in the corner of the closet. The light that flooded in temporarily blinded the little boy as he stared up at the man giving him a disgusted look. The man was drunk again he knew it.
"Get up boy," the male growled.
"Please don't," the little boy whispered.
"I said get up!" Without waiting for him to move, Kenny's father yanked him from out of the closet. Tossing him against a wall. Kenny yelped, trying to get his grounds, but a foot came square into his chest, knocking all the air out of his body. Weak from no food and water for six days, the boy dropped like a bag of flour. "I said get up!"
"I can't," Kenny whimpered.
"Get the fuck up you little piece of shit. You nearly got me in trouble. Your damn school called asking about you. I had to lie and tell them you were sick. Why do you have to be so worthless?" Another foot came in contact with Kenny's chest, the little boy crying out from the blow.
"I'm sorry!" Tears trickled down his face.
"Sorry doesn't help now, does it? Get up, or I swear to God that I'm going to really give you something to cry about boy," his father growled.
"I'm sorry!" the little boy curled into a ball, trying to protect himself from the assault but nothing worked to make the blows any less painful.
"I know you're sorry," his father said, picking up a piece of extension cord that was nearby. The first lash brought out a silent cry from the boy. The second one brought a strangled whimper of pain, the third a sob that racked his entire body. The fourth one just numbed everything the other three blows previously struck.
One after another, the blows rained down, until he found comfort in unconsciousness. In the thought that maybe he would sink so deep he didn't have to feel the pain anymore. That was probably the first time he thought about death, about his life ending because he had no future ahead. He had a feeling things would always be like that.
{Flashback ends}
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Rimnerel: Okay, I think I'm going to quit for this chapter. I'm about to cry myself. Especially adding in my poem for Kenny's notebook.
Nakoruru: Well, if you think about it, Good Charlotte's "Hold On" is playing repeatedly in the background while we write. So what do you expect?
Rimnerel: True. Well...I guess we should get going now. We finally accomplished our angst level for this chapter. Tell us how you like it, and we will update this week.