Chapter 2: Thoughts
DISCLAIMER: I wish I were talented enough to have created these characters, but alas, I am not. I only own the plot and any OCs.
Sho, December 21st, 2018
This is the second day that I have been homeless. It's been starting to snow more heavily; school has been out for a week now and wouldn't re-open until the 7th of January. I had no shelter at all, the little sidewalk near the bakery was the warmest place I could find. It was still freezing though; sleeping on the cold sidewalk was tough. But I had nowhere to go for shelter or warmth, everywhere I went, I was forcefully turned away or shoo-ed by security. I found myself returning to the bakery, sitting next to one of the vents that lead to an oven. It was nice and warm during the daytime, at least, but the cold of the night was harsh and unforgiving.
I thought about spending the money I collected from the house for something warm, like a coffee. I internally shook my head, knowing that the little money I had should be used sparingly. I took out a bottle of water, and drank the icy water as best as I can, unable to drink much in the winter air. I reached in for an energy bar to munch on, savoring each bite like it was my last.
'It may very well be your last,' my mind sneered at me.
'Poor little thing. You were so weak as to leave your own house without fighting your father off and escape on your own, not strong enough to face your own battles. Now you're going to die of hypothermia on the streets!'
I was starting to believe that I would die here on the New York street. It was sunset; the bakery was beginning to close, shutting off my only source of warmth in the whole of the city. I began to succumb to my misfortunes, beginning with the wretchedly abusive life I was born to.
'Normal kids don't get beat up and belittled by their father figure,' I thought bitterly.
'I'm weak, stupid and helpless; I never was good at anything or excelled at any sport or subject. Hell, I barely scraped by! He might have been right…'
I let out a heavy sigh at the thought of the situation at hand. I now needed somewhere to stay. The dumpster? No, that would ruin my warm clothes, and I needed them clean for as long as possible. In the alley? That might lead to trouble with some gang or another person using the alley to discuss illegal activities, and plus, I hate rats. Next to the New York Hudson Square Apartments? That might work, especially if I could find a vent that leads to a heater. Deciding that it would be my next stop for the night, I started the journey by foot to my intended resting area. I jogged along, enjoying the cool air of the winter as it ran through my hair. Along the way, I managed to pick up a wallet that had $29.34 in it.
'This could last me another 3 weeks,'
As I approached the building, I began to realize how big it actually was. It had to be about 15 stories high, and it appeared incredibly posh and clean; the walls seemed to not have an ounce of dirt on them anywhere.
'If only I had anywhere near the amount of money to buy a house in that thing; I would have ran away years ago!'
I arrived at the building, and to my luck and extreme delight, there seemed to be a vent that was spewing out warm air. I briskly walked there, before relishing in the amazing feeling of the warm current. It was nighttime already. I hid my bag in a pile of snow behind a dumpster, lay against the brick wall and drifted off to the realm of dreams and nightmares.
Sho, Dream World
'Honey! Come here, mommy's got a present for you!'
'Mommy, what is it?'
I lit up in excitement and began to wonder what it was, my mind moving in a thousand directions at once.
'You always said you wanted it, and we finally can afford it; the thing that you kept nagging me about– it's your very own set of Harry Potter books!'
'Wow mommy! You're the best mommy ever! I love you!'
'Mom, where are you going?'
'I'm going away for a little bit, sweetie, your father is not a very kind man. I'm going to come back to see you soon, alright? Don't cry, this isn't the last time we'll see each other,'
'But what if you forget about me? What if he hits me like he did you?'
'It won't be the last time we see each other honey, and if he does, I promise I'll take you with me, far away from him,"
My sobs rang out through the still atmosphere.
"I promise."
"That slut isn't going to come back for you, kid, deal with it,"
"Don't call my mom that, you bastard,"
"What did you just call me?"
"You heard me, you're a BASTARD! YOU'RE A MANWHORE THAT NEVER DESERVED MY MOM!"
"Why you little shit, I paid for your schooling, the roof over your head, and you repay me by being a little bitch?"
A slap rang through the air, and I could feel a stinging pain on my left cheek.
I heard sound of a belt coming undone, as I was still in a daze from the slap. I almost didn't register the painful whips of a belt against my chest and back, the lashes leaving angry red marks against my unblemished skin. Then the boiling water, bringing my attention back as I let out a whimper of pain, my face and sides burning. Unsatisfied with my reaction, he began to swap to beating me with the buckle, piercing my skin and bruising my torso, blood dripping down my body. He finally tired, after who knows how long, shoved me into the cupboard, and said, his gravelly, unpleasant voice breaking the silence:
"Now that that annoying little whore is gone, that means I have no-one to take my anger out on but you."
He smiles sadistically at me.
"That bitch won't be coming back for you, because you're so worthless that there's nobody, who wants you, not even your own slut of a mother!"
A manic cackle rang through the air, permeating the entirety of my mindscape, tainting the rest of my dreams…
3rd Person, while Sho is dreaming
One could see a homeless young adult, tossing and turning in their sleep against the walls of the Hudson Square Apartments, sweating in a pile of snow surrounding him. His face was contorted in fear, before he began to wince in pain. He was flailing about, as if there was someone attacking him, his mumbles almost inaudible. He froze in place. He began to sob, the tears streaming down his face freezing mid-way down his face, his mumbling becoming louder, his hands balling into fists, and smashing against an invisible wall, like he was trapped in an invisible box. It was 2 o'clock in the morning; the coldest part of the night. He awoke in a shock. The tears streaming down his face intensified; his sobs now becoming louder, but still swallowed up by the silence of the December night. He curled himself into the fetal position, the warm stream of air coming through the vent he was near now becoming weaker, but still sufficient at keeping him safe from the cold air. He whispered quietly, so quietly that he almost didn't hear it himself. After one last sniffle, he closed his eyes and once again drifted to the realm of sleep, the realm where the torture felt the most real, the realm where he felt most powerless.
'Why is it me… ?'
Daito, 3:00, December 22nd, 2018
I couldn't sleep well at all, not after that day. I walked out onto my balcony in a robe, wondering what I would do. I surveyed the New York City skyline, cars still moving about in the dead of night, and office building still lit, either from workaholics or simple forgetfulness. I breathed in deeply, taking in the cold, dry air or a December night. Sleep was a doorway, a doorway that I never wanted to cross, a doorway that forced me to relive all those horrible memories, memories that were too painful to retell to anyone, even myself.
"You're never going to be successful, you're the most useless piece of shit I have ever seen in my life, and I birthed you!"
"This isn't how a mother is supposed to treat her youngest son!"
She stopped. Then, almost supernaturally, her head threw back at an odd angle, a sharp laughter reminding him of mental asylum patients filled the air.
"Why would I treat you of all people well when you're completely worthless? You're lucky that it's illegal for me to kill you because all you are is a drain on the resources that I could be spending on your sister!"
Tears streamed down my face as I ran to the only source of solace I knew; my sister. I hastily climbed up the stairs and into the room we shared. Knowing what had happened in the living room, she enveloped me in a bone crushing hug. I started to babble incoherently, as she started to rub my back, reassuring me. I was so grateful for her; without her, I may have bottled everything up, and done something incredibly stupid. She pushed the bottom of my chin so I could face her, and she flashed me a smile that had an instant calming effect on me. I smiled back, before the scene shifted.
I looked down and saw my 17 year old body, which meant that my sister was 22. I remember that she was a very skilled technological inventor, and an owner of her own company around this time. She was hard at work, reading up on scholarly articles to enhance her own skills. I materialized behind her, watching on fondly, before realizing what time this was. I knew it all too well; it was the day before she was murdered. I opened my mouth to warn her, to talk to her, to save her, to do anything at all, but it was like she couldn't even hear me, like I wasn't even there.
"Arisa! Arisa! Stop!"
My fond expression quickly shifted as I watched in horror as she scanned an article, finding something that caught her eye. It was a hash. I knew instantly that this was a hash for the Hunt's black market website, the black market website of a gang that was feared across the nation. I reached out to grab her shoulder, to slap her arm away, to pull her into my arms but no matter how hard I tried, I passed through her like a ghost, and if she felt my attempts at shaking her away, she didn't show it. I looked on, now paralyzed in fear, as she entered the hash into her browser, which led her to an all too familiar website. She scanned the site, her eyes widening in terror as she recognized what she had stumbled upon. She quickly closed it, and set up as many proxies as she could, but I knew it was futile. The Hunt was coming after her, and I began to cry, once again being too weak to save those that I loved. The scene shifted again, and dread filled me as I knew what would be the next scene.
I rematerialized in a house that was all too familiar; this was where I heard her last words. I closed my eyes, hoping that this nightmare would go away and end if I did, but my luck was not with me today. I heard the faint croak of someone dying, and opened my eyes and ran to her, wrapping her in a hug, not caring about her current state. She turned to me, and smiled.
"Toshiro, please love yourself, because I love y—" her voice cut off.
"Arisa! Arisa! You can't die on me! I love you too much for you to die on me! Please Arisa.…"
I broke down again, crying at the sight of my sister's mangled body. Her belly was cut open, one could see her intestines inside the massive gash. Her arms and legs were cut up and strewn about in a gory display. I was covered in her blood when I held her. I was so incredibly proud of her. She was the one who saved me, who gave me the push to live on… It was incredible that she was able to hold on for so long, she was a real fighter.
'She fought for me, she saved me from myself so many times.…'
I began to see the damage that was done. Her face was beat up, black and blue, so much that I almost couldn't recognize her, many of her bones were broken, her waist and what was left of her limbs were twisted into painful angles. A short message on the wall, sloppily carved with a knife, read:
'No one can escape the mistress and leader of the Hunt. -Art3mis'
I began to scream, hoping that someone, anyone would take me out of this nightmare, comfort me and tell me everything would be alright, but nothing happened, for the person that always did that was my sister, and she was gone. I stopped. My sniffles continued, but I stood up, looking at the dead body of my sister. I hardened my shell, becoming the cold persona of Daito, the last shreds of Toshiro that were still hanging by a thread, that lasted through my heartbreak, that lasted through my neglecting, loveless and verbally abusive parents, was now gone, dying with her. Cruelly, the sound of my sniffles constantly replayed, over and over until I woke up, serving to remind me how I was unable to save her and how powerless I was forevermore...
My company at that time was still young, I was still alone, armed only with the things I learned from my sister and the basic economic and business theories and applications I saw in my school years. But she trusted me with everything, her money, her company, her house, everything.
I searched her house and came across signed piece of paper. My eyes clouded as I could identify her signature. Reading the document, I realized that this was her will, which stated that my company and subsequently, I, was to own her company when she died. I began to understand how deep our bond was, and how she loved me with all of her heart. It only served to deepen my sorrow, that she had entrusted me with her everything, and I couldn't even help her when she needed me most.
I had to have been standing outside on the balcony for 30 minutes now, and I was freezing. Tears that I didn't notice flowed down my cheeks while I was lost in my own thoughts. I looked out into the New York streets, observing the little shape of cars, slowly pacing through the streets, calm and peaceful. I let out a heavy breath, my eyes starting to form bags from not sleeping well in the last 2 or 3 days. Thoughts, memories, and nightmares rattled around in my mind like stale nuts, unsettling and subconsciously tensing.
"Why is it me… ?"
That's all for this chapter, thanks! All feedback is again really appreciated. Just a small announcement, I'm thinking of writing stories for other fandoms, and so check the story ideas on my profile, as they will probably come to life. Thanks again, and I hope you enjoyed!
