Write date:02-27; 03-03
Hello to everyone, today's a short chapter. Time for some backstory of Kunugi Takehito. Thank you to Dlbn for reviewing :)
Dlbn: Arigato!This will be quite a different take on Ritsu. I'm probably going with the idea, of what create's such a horrid personality... (When did this became psychological?) And yes he lacks in trusting others and appreciation, that's one problem arising... Furthermore Nagisa ruining things. Yea that was so not the place, not the time, not the event even. But I guess she came to that conclusion, because of Ritsu's lust for Soubi and how did it turned out... Judging by a person's past, that's one mistake people do often. But is it seriously a mistake, that's arguable.
-X-X-X-
It was snowing outside, that's the only upside he could think of.
Snow and ice meant that it was cold, right? That's why he was closed up in the house. He heard that people got horribly sick if they dwell in it too much... Even so... He wanted to see it... Touch it...
The boy quickly dropped his colored pencils, leaving his drawing ufinished on the bed.
Suddenly the boy wasn't interested in drawing anymore, he wanted to play in the snow... That desire flamed inside him wildly. He desperatly wanted to get out of the room.
So the dark-haired child warily got up from the ground near his bed, acting careful as if his movements could scare or wake someone... Then he slowly creaked the door open, as it made a small gap, that expanded in mere seconds, along with his smile...
"Takehito?" A voice called out from the kitchen, when a grown up man showed up in the entrance. "Are you hungry?"
The other nodded, feeling his stomach growl and following him into the othef room and leaving his primary desire for another time.
"Where's brother?" A simple thought voiced out, when he sat at the table, hearing the clinging of the utensills, accompanied by the sound of boilling water in a huge well known pot- the old grime still not cleaned off, figures.
"Out..."
"Ah... I get it..." Takehito nodded weakly, staring at the plate, that was put in front of him, then his father went to shove more wood in the blackened fireplace.
"And Yuuka, onee-chan? She's not here?" He spotted an empty wheelchair, in the corner as a confirmation.
"Mhm... She's out..." The other answered calmly, still working to maintain the fire, when the child continued to stare at the moving construction. He was keen to know what it would be like to speed in it down the mountain trail, if it wasn't used anymore, his older sister wouldn't mind if he'd take it, would she?
"Then... Granny?" He haulted in his words, wishing to play with her again. She was the person with whom Takehito spent most of the time with, during the day. In the night he drew pictures by himself...
"She went out to sell her knitted sweaters ... With mother gone... S. She's been..."
With that an uncomfortable silence took root, as the man couldn't force his throat to voice out, it quivered soundlessly. In the meantime Takehito began swinging his feet below the table, soon spotting his late mother's painting, hanging on the wall, silver coloring words incraved on the side: "Gone, but never forgotten. You will live forever in our hearts, may you rest in peace."
Suddenly the father snatched Takehito's bowl, returning it full with soup. The sight of it made Takehito wrinkle his nose... He never liked it, it was all potatoes and cabbage... Could've atleast put cream in it... No salt as per usual. And no bread? Well that just made this lunch worse. How is he suppose to shove the disgusting cabbage now?
"Dig in." The father ruffled the dark-haired boy's hair, as the latter pouted his lips in dissaproval.
"I miss mommy's berry cake..."
"I know you do, I know... We all miss her." He leaned at the child, softly kissing his forehead, keeping his right hand clutching his back, for reasurrance.
Although Takehito liked his dad, the boy hated that arm of his- covered in bandages and scars, his nails uncut and dirty. It scared the child... So worned and tired, used as nothing more but a material...
When he finally moved away, the kid took another speculiating glimpse of his father. Just as Takehito saw yesterday. He looked more tired, than usual... Feeding the whole family by yourself was rather hard...
"Is something wrong?" His father noticed the stare, that made Takehito flutter his eyes, the boy awoke from his thoughts.
"Don't look so down!" He continued with a wide smirk, as the child's eyes kept glancing around the room, blushing.
"I know, I don't look the best I've been. It's how life works, I'm getting old, you'll look like this too one day!" The male ran a hand through his beard, that covered his chin, releasing a laughter. Takehito on the other hand yanked backwards, looking disgusted.
"I will never look like that! I'll be cute! I won't have those red and black spots on arms too!"
It seemed the father hadn't expected that, cutting his forming sentence short and shaking his head after, while rubbing the mentioned arm. His next sentence lacked enthusiasm.
"Well, you know, having scars and dirt on a man isn't a bad thing. It's proof that you're strong..."
"But it's gross..."
"Finish your meal, don't let it get cold." He held the last arguement, watching Takehito literally force the soup down his throat.
The man smiled, overlooking his child... Not wanting to grow a beard, how rare, it seemed to him. It was the man's biggest dream, when he was of young age, similar to Takehito... Kids do change over the decades...
"Mh. Daddy..." Takehito finally perked up, potatoes concealing his mouth.
"Yes? Chew your food before speaking."
"Roght!" The boy nodded with determination in his eyes, as he battled with the vegetables. "What is that school like?"
"What school?"
"The one we passed, a month ago when you asked for my help, carrying wood back home." The child reminded, when the father just scratched his head clearly forgotten that unimportant event.
"We saw a school away from the forest. It was huge! And you said you learnt all kinds of interesting stuff there!"
"Ah!" A surge of memory likely hit the man's head, when he extended a finger, taking Takehito's plate with the other arm." Seven Voices academy!"
The boy prompted his arms on the table, joyfully wagging his tail, ears perked ready to listen.
"Yes, I was a student there. It was really fun, we did learn from books, but most of the time we learnt through activities."
"What kind of activities?"
"Well..." The father, combed his beard with his fingers in thought for a moment." I guess I'll call it magic."
"Magic? Seriously?" The boy jumped from his seat, excitment painted on his face." Show me, show me, show me!"
"Wov,wov, easy there kiddo." The older male giggled, holding Takehito's shoulders in place." I can't... Mommy was the one, who practiced and mastered it. She was a fighter."
"A fighter?"
"Yes, a fighter. We call that a person who can use magic. But in order for mommy to actually use it, she needs someone to help her, let's say strengthen her powers. So they could be visible."
"What?" Confusement was written all over the boy's face and his cat ears fell, when his mind lost track of the complex words mentioned.
"Mhm." The older man nodded, lacing a hand on the child's cheek, then fixing his ruffled hair." This magic is everywhere, we call it the battle system, but we can't see it yet. It's invisible magic. As I said magic can be visible when it is in the battle system and unseen here. Although if we can't see it doesn't mean it doesn't exist."
"Battle... System..." The child repeated to himself in deep thoughtfulness, trying to memorise it, as it seemed important.
"I am a sacrifice... The person who helps mommy use the magic, make it visible and powerful. Without her I can't use it."
"Then..."Takehito pouted his lips with sparkling eyes."When she'll come back, make sure to show me magic!"
Quiet...
The father bit his lip, seeing the happiness from the child's face quickly wash away by pain. Suddenly he began weeping, hiding his face in the man's stomach.
The line between death and life was so thin, it's easilly mistaken and forgotten.
"Come here..." The father softly pulled Takehito by the elbow, his voice came out poorly. The father hurriedly dragged the child out of the kitchen. The bowling kid couldn't catch up, stumbling and tripping over his own feet, holding up by a last thread.
Storey house...
A plain linen paper inside, set in the middle, over piles of potatoes and other vegetables held in old, wooden containers, dirty rags concealing somesort of equipment, Takehito hadn't known the name of. They were all pushed to the corners, concealing the small windows, in so making the place gloomy. Nevertheless the white paper stood out...
The boy was seated in front of it, with brushes at his side. Takehito looked around warily, hearing his father's breathing getting hoarse, as the older man clutched his shoulders from the back.
"F.Father... A. are you alright? W.why are we he.re?"
"Draw..."
"Wha... What?" His answer turned into a whisper, when he felt his father lick his neck, lacing his hands down the boy's stomach. Lurching lower and lower, onto his thigh. Though not in a protective way... After a moment the father oddly receded for an inch, then tugged at the filthy cloth in front, revealing the containts behind the bloody rags...
Takehito's eyes widened... He screamed at the crimson liquid dripping down from...
"Draw..."
Soon a second portrait of Mommy evoke in in the kitchen. With words incraved: "May you rest in peace."
That wasn't the end though... Soon two more portraits accompanied the room of a family gathering place. Making it lit with wealth, despite the old blackened fireplace, the worned table, broken chairs or the stench of rotten vegetables.
No... It was luxurious despite all that, there was a whole lineage of a family on the walls, mother and two children: sister and brother...
May you sleep peacefully for eternity...
'Your dear brother that is still here will make sure you are remembered... Right~! You'll take care of your poor father as well, right, Takehito? You'll be a good boy...'