The one thing that connects all of the human race together is that we all make mistakes.

Some people gamble their house way.

Some people Accidentally dye their hair green.

Some cheat on their partners

Some steal things from the local gas station.

Hitoshi would be lying if he said he'd never made a mistake.

He'd made lots of them.

And all his mistakes are probably what led him to where he is now.

At a party, vomiting into some poor women's peonies.

Hitoshi grimaced as the vomit stopped for a moment before forcing him to lean over the railing on the porch again.

Some people behind him laughed and made noises of disgust.

Hitoshi ignored them.

Once he was finally done expelling his stomach he gasped for air.

Breathing heavily he Wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

"Woah dude are you okay?" Someone said

Hitoshi looked over at the person.

A blonde boy who looked about Hitoshis age was standing close to him. A red solo cup in his hand, the boy had a black lightning bolt in his bangs.

"Is that natural?" Hitoshi thought

The blonde laughed slightly and touched the lightning bolt. "Ha yeah, it's natural."

"Oh shit sorry I didn't mean to say that out loud." Hitoshi said blushing and yanking down the hood of his hoodie to cover his face.

He used to have a foster brother who did that and eventually he picked up the habit.

The blonde laughed again "it's no problem dude but like seriously are you okay i mean you just destroyed those marigolds."

"They're peonies," Hitoshi said, avoiding the question.

He was fine, honestly he was probably more sober than he was a few minutes ago before he threw up.

"Do you need some water or something? I can get you some." the blonde said

Hitoshi gave him a 'do you think I'm stupid' look.

"oh yeah, you don't know me. That's fair um do you want to go get water?"

"No." Hitoshi said, pushing himself away from the railing "I need to get going."

"Oh," said the blonde, "Yeah that's a good idea, sleep it off, you know."

"Yeah," Hitoshi said dryly, turning and walking away.

He wouldn't be able to "sleep it off" Unfortunately, not in his "house."

--

The night air was wonderfully cool as he walked down the street to his foster parents house.

They lived in a nice neighborhood which was honestly a first for him. Hitoshi pulled a leaf from a lavender bush in someone's yard.

He very carefully started to rip it apart as he walked, Soon reaching the small apartment building his fosters lived in.

Hitoshi headed around towards the fire escape, he had made sure that the ladder was down before he left.

As quietly as he could he made his way up to the apartment.

Luckily his window was the one the fire escape was connected to.

One of the pros of living in a nice neighborhood was that Hitoshi never had to lock his window.

The window slid open silently and Hitoshi slowly entered his room keeping his ears open for any sound of his foster parents.

Nothing.

He let out a sigh of relief, Hitoshi couldn't imagine what they'd say if they found out he had been sneaking off.

He removed his sweater and balled it up and stuck it in the bottom drawer of his dresser with the rest of the clothes that probably smelled like alcohol,

and his binder.

He took his shoes off and kicked them under his bed and then slowly removed his beanie letting his shoulder length purple hair fall around his shoulders.

He absent mindedly ran his hand through it.

This family wouldn't let him cut it past his shoulders.

Hitoshi huffed slightly as he avoided looking at the mirror on his wall.

The last family he was placed with was probably the worst in cases of neglect but at least they didn't care when he shaved his head or maybe they didn't notice.

They didn't notice when one of the older girls ran away for three months.

Hitoshi shook his head, No reason to think about that.

He pulled off his jeans and threw them into the corner of his room before crawling into bed.

He kept his window open, he liked the cold.

--

Sunday was a big day in this house. Church day, he dubbed it.

Hitoshi couldn't say he minded though.

But it was annoying when his foster mother would wake him up so early.

He'd get up, go to the bathroom, avoid looking in the mirror, and then stare at the floor letting his mind fill with the thoughts that he tried desperately to block out.

Then someone would bang on the door loud enough to snap him out of his spiral of self loathing and he'd leave the bathroom and watch as his foster father and mother had a silent conversation about him.

They didn't want him.

Hitoshi knew that the day he showed up.

They want someone younger, with less trauma and less mental illnesses.

Hitoshi didn't care though, he'd been thrown around in the System since he was four, and was sure that would continue until he aged out.

Then he'd go to his room and throw on the first dress he saw.

He had to wear them when he went to church.

No idea why.

He'd seen people wear pants to church but whenever he brought that up he'd just get a lecture.

--

Hitoshi sat on a stool in the living room as his foster mother worked on Braiding his hair.

You look so beautiful Hasumi," she said happily

'Hitoshi,' he corrected in his mind

"Your hair is so lovely."

"You know," Hitoshi said gathering up some of his courage "the other day at school, i saw a girl with really short hair and i was just wondering-"

His foster mother grabbed him by the chin a forced him to look at her

"Women with short hair are the devil's harlots, Hasumi." she said seriously

Hitoshi wanted to pull away from her iron grip but he knew that that would just make things worse, so he nodded as best he could.

That seemed to Appease her, so she let go of his chin.

Hitoshi fought the urge to rub where her finger nails dug in.

"Good, now no more of that. Your hair is so lovely I don't know why you want to chop it all off." she said continuing the Braid where she left off.

Hitoshi didn't have a problem with religion, really the best home he was ever placed in was a religious one and the people there were lovely.

He did have a problem with this type of religious people though.

When Hitoshi first showed up he knew that his foster parents were disappointed and his new foster father wasted no time telling him that.

The next thing that happened was his foster mother flushing his medication down the toilet.

Apparently his depression, migraines and insomnia would be cured by praying more.

Hitoshi had tried to come up with arguments that would appeal to his foster parents beliefs but that just ended with him being grounded and threatened with the muzzle.

They had never used it on him but the fact that they had it was enough to keep him from bringing up medication again.

After the medication arguments Hitoshi decided that he'd be safer if he didn't come out as trans.

He was fine, there were people out there who had worse parents and Hitoshi knew that his would pass him along the first chance they got.

He was fine, he'd live with it.

--

Church was honestly boring, Hitoshi would sit in the back and stare out the window for most of it.

The worst part was always the drive back to the apartment.

He'd usually get sick after driving somewhere.

He didn't know why.

But not only would he feel shitty but his foster father would grill him on what he learned.

Hitoshi was always good at bullshiting.

Once at the apartment, he'd be able to disappear into his room to try and sleep it off.

He usually couldn't and while waiting for sleep to finally overtake him, he'd hear his foster parents talking about him.

He knew that they didn't like him.

But this apartment was safe, and quiet. And he had food. So he wouldn't complain when he was forced to wear a dress or keep his hair long.

He wouldn't complain when he Heard glass break in the night and he'd silently lock his door.

He wouldn't complain when he Heard them call his mother a whore when they thought he couldn't hear them.

He'd stay quiet.

He wouldn't ask questions.

He wouldn't rock the boat.

He was safe that way.