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My Scarf

People look at me and the first thing most people think is: gay, crazy, or a weird freak. Why? Because I have pink hair and I wear a scarf every day, all the time, no matter what I'm doing or where it is.

Everywhere I go, I can feel them staring at the top of my head. From my sharp vision, I can see them trying to hide a mocking laugh. Some giving me weird looks. From my sensitive hearing, I would hear their judgmental comments to each other behind their hands. I would always ignore them.

"Seriously? The whole head pink?"

"That guy's definitely gay."

"His parents let him do that?"

"He's probably one of those weird freaks who do cosplay."

"Ew, what's with the scarf? It's summer."

First of all, my hair color is salmon, not pink, and it's my natural hair color, I was born with it so I didn't have a choice. Second of all, sure I watch anime and love it but that doesn't mean that I friggin' cosplay. And third of all, my scarf. I can wear anything I want and I wear it because I have a reason. You want to know my reason? You gotta earn my trust. But even if I did tell you, you probably wouldn't understand.

Nobody truly understands me. Hell, they won't even take the time to get to know my story. Not unless they have gone through something similar or is a really good person.

Like this one time when my school counselor asked me why I wear my scarf all the time. I told him, "I wear it because it's special to me."

"Was it a present from someone important to you?"

"Yes."

"From who?"

"…My dad."

"Do you not see your dad much anymore? Are there any family problems? Please don't mind me asking."

I narrowed my eyes at him then, not trusting him anymore. He looked so sincere and understanding before. But then he immediately assumed that my parents were divorced or something, like everyone else has whenever I tell them that it was from my dad. That's all they ever get to know.

"No, I don't mind," I lied. "And no, it's not because of that." I was glad he sensed that I didn't want to talk about it, apologized, and never bought the subject up again.

See what I mean about no one understanding? Hell, not even a friggin' teacher can, let alone the kids at school. They always all friggin' assume everything and think they're right because I don't talk about it.

But the consequence of not telling is that it makes you an easy target. I have no friends, no real friends anyway. Some people are nice and accepting enough that they talk to me. So at least I'm not a loner. But when I'm walking alone in the hallways of high school, I become vulnerable.

"Oh, hey! It's pinky!" The leader of my bullies cried out, Cobra, who thinks he rules the school with his gang.

Then they would all surround me and the leader would smash me against the lockers. He would say stupid insults, "You gay, little bastard." or they would joke around with the crowd, make me do embarrassing things like lick their shoes like I was some dog. I never do, I'd just stay quiet and leave. Or other times they would get to the point and start beating me up. The worst they've done so far is leave me with an aching head from banging my head against the lockers and bruises all over my body.

Whatever, I"ve experienced worse things...

This is what I experience every day. I get bullied. Jocks who think they're better than everyone would pick on me. You might be wondering where my so called "friends" are. Well, if they were my real friends, then they would have done something by now. But who would want to go up against the popular gang who has all the influence to save a kid like me who nobody cares about anyway?

Then you might be wondering why I don't do anything about it myself. Well, that sort of connects to part of my story, but also because I don't care. I don't give a crap what they do to me. I know it's not my fault. I didn't do anything wrong. They were the ones who decided to just beat me up. And I am certainly not going to give them the satisfaction of fighting back and give them a show.

Until one day, they took it too far.

It was during free period. I was at my locker, minding my own business, and also half expecting an attack any moment. Which did happen.

It started with a yank of my scarf, used as a noose to choke me and pull me down to the floor. I coughed at the sudden lose of air but regained my breath. I looked up and glared at the ones who did this.

"Ooh, such a scary look there, pinky," Cobra taunted.

I mentally rolled my eyes. They haven't seen anything close to scary until they see me when I'm...

I got up to my feet and turned to just walk away but was pulled down again. Man! Why did I fall for that again?!

The gang snickered. "That scarf of yours is such a weakness. Gives me a pretty good advantage." Cobra grabbed my white scaly scarf and this time it fell off, choking me a little again. He examined it with mocking disgust. "Ew, it looks so weird." He passed it to the girl of their gang, Angel. She looked at it with a disapproving look. "The design is so out of fashion. The fabric is cheap and lame. Hell, this belongs in a dumpster."

I growled at her, "Like I friggin' care what you think." That sure caught them off guard. I've never stood up for myself, 'cause I don't care what they do to me. But if you do something to my scard or even insult it...I don't let that slide with me.

"E-excuse me?" she said outraged. "You don't talk to me like that, you piece of trash!"

"I can talk however I want with anyone," I retorted. "You're nothing special, so don't think you are." I reached towards her and snatched back my scarf. "I'll take what's mine back, thanks."

Cobra grabbed my shirt. "Who do you think you are, punk?"

I smirked and shrugged him off, starting to walk away. "I got my scarf back. I have no business with you people."

Okay, so apparently I pissed them off pretty badly because the gang surrounded me. And if that wasn't enough, the other students provided an extra circle, no escape, since they expect a fight.

Something flashed in me, and I wasn't afraid of being caught in a fight in school. I noisily ticked my tongue in annoyance, "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to apologize," Cobra crossed his arms, "and then do our bidding for the rest of the month."

I snorted, "And you think you can make me do that because...?"

His eyebrow ticked, "Or else your 'friends' gets it." He gestured to his two goonies who were holding onto a couple of guys from my class that I sometimes hang out with. "Friends" isn't really the correct term, more like "acquiantaces".

I kept my pokerface, "I don't got friends. You got nothing on me. But..." Before any one could see it coming, the two goonies who were keeping my "friends" captive were knocked down...by my fists. I glared down at them, and this time, they were truly frightened. Cobra stuttered in shock, "H-how did you...?"

I smirked at him, "Like I said, I don't got friends here so you have no one to use. But I'm not gonna let you beat up people to get what you want." I looked at Cobra straight in the eye. "That's cowardly."

Cobra was furious, he launched at me, but I side stepped him. He let out a series of attacks while I dodged and blocked some, offering some of mine. But then he made another grab for my scarf...that's when I snapped. I caught his fist then pucnhed him with so much force he stumbled back into the lockers. He slid down, grunting from the pain, rubbing his sore face.

Cobra looked up at me, "You got a scar." I narrowed my eyes at him. "On your neck. I saw it when I took that damn scarf off." He stumbled onto his feet into a challenging stance. "That scar...I can tell it's the type...only a fighter gets."

That word. A trigger. A million images flashed through my head. All those memories. All those scars. All those stories. I subconsciously touched my scarf.

"How'd you get that scar?" Cobra asked. "And that scarf...Natsu?"

I flinched, not used to hearing him say my name. It was the first time anyone asked so directly. Something about Cobra, his expression, the way he asked, the way he knew only a fighter gets a scar like the one I have.

I didn't answer for a while, caught off guard that question came up. Everyone around was waiting for the story.

My story.

"My dad died when I was seven. Gave me his scarf before he passed away," I said, remembering that day, July 7, X777, when my dad disappeared from my life forever. "I used to get into a lot of fights. This scar" -I pulled down my scarf a little to show my neck- "represents the last fight I got into before I stopped."

Cobra raised an eyebrow, interested. "Why did you stop?"

"No point in fighting useless fights," I shrugged, "gets you nowhere except the hospital, or the others in the hospital, that is."

"But you were fighting just now," Cobra mused.

"Like I said, there's no point in fighting useless fights. But you have me a reason to throw a punch at your face."

Cobra's friends helped him up, but he kept his eyes on me, studying me. "Let me take him down, Cobra," one of them said eagerly.

But Cobra shot him down with a glare. "You probably wouldn't even land a punch." He stood up taller and after giving me one last look, he led his group away. "I better not find you injured just when I'm ready to take you down. Be ready...Natsu."

I smirked, "I guess you're good enough. But you'll regret challenging me."

That day, I felt like Cobra really understood me. Funny, since he was the bully. But I guess a fighter knows a fighter. Because of him, my story was let out to the whole school. But then I transferred out of that one but I guess word spread and my new school knows who I am and no one messed with me. Not because they were scared that I'd beat them up, but they didn't find a reason to. They were really cool with me, actually. I then got new friends. And yes, I did sometimes let out a few punches here and there, but they were all reasonable.

But the first time I told my story, I didn't tell everything. Like the reason why I stopped. The scar from that last fight was from my uncle. Yep, I pick fights with family.

The scarf is a momento of my dad. The scar is a reminder of an important lesson my dad taught me on fighting, and I live by it like a code.

"You can't just do nothing and hope that something will happen. You have to take actions into your own hands in order to protect something precious to you, protect others around you, and protect yourself." ~Natsu Dragneel.

(A/N)- Now, this doesn't mean that you have to fight with fists to prove a point and defend yourself or others. A fight doesn't always have to be physical. You just got to fight for what you believe in and protect it.

I hope you enjoyed it, everyone! More chapters to come! Please review! :D