BurningTheLeaves. StraightThroughTheShadows. PlantingTheSeeds. AllOnMyOwn. YouUsedToKnowMe.

Blood ran from Hazuki’s lip. It was the second time this week. He had been at the orphanage for five weeks now and was still bound to his wheelchair. What had been promised as a place of recovery and support had turned out to be an underfunded, forgotten, damp old campus on the edge of the city that was full of the angry, lonely, and forgotten. Being confined in a wheelchair, with a shattered leg and long hair had made Hazuki an easy target for the emotionally damaged youth that he was now living with. The beatings and harassment began on the second day and never stopped.

Some children had taken to shoving sticks in his wheelchair wheels. Others were more direct and simply flipped the chair over as Hazuki went by. Every time it happened, pain exploded up his leg like fire. Once, he made the mistake of asking a worker for help or protection, but no true relief came. The boys he’d told on decided to seek revenge and that night had held Hazuki down in his bed while repeatedly striking him with pillowcases stuffed with soap bars. Their attacks had been strategic, so there were no visible bruises. Only his chest, legs, and stomach showed signs of the trauma.

This was the new world for Hazuki. Words became more and more isolated for him as fewer and fewer people would speak to him. Days would pass without a single real conversation. All the while, his medication continued. Chemicals flooded his brain, diluting his senses and further removing him from the world.

On that particular rainy day, Hazuki was trying to navigate his way to the temporary building that housed his current classes, but the walkway was exposed and it was pouring. His wheels were already struggling to get traction even before the tall boy behind him ran up and kicked the left wheel. Before Hazuki could react, he spun off the path and the slight drop into the grass caught his wheelchair, flinging him face-first onto the ground.

By now Hazuki had figured out how to protect his leg, so his body crumpled head first in hopes that his arms and shoulders could absorb the impact. This meant his lip was constantly scraped and busted and had not yet healed completely in the entire time he had been in the orphanage. Once again, the harsh welcome of the ground ripped open the healing scabs on his lower lip and scuffed his cheek red.

Blood flowed anew and streaked down Hazuki’s face as it mixed with the rain. He slowly pulled himself up and fumbled his way into the chair as other boys walked by without a word. After a few awkward failed attempts to regain his seat, Hazuki resigned himself to lay there on the ground with his head against the seat of the chair. Tears formed and he immediately banished them. Tears were a welcome target of the boys, so anyone who was seen shedding even a single one was immediately ambushed.

By the time Hazuki had climbed back into his chair and entered the class, he was drenched. His teacher looked at his bloodied face in frustrated concern.

“Who did this?!’ he demanded.

Hazuki didn’t speak. The teacher turned to the class.

“WHO did this?!” he belted.

Still, no one spoke.

“Maybe the pretty boy just slipped in the rain,” snarked a random boy in the back of the class.

Other boys laughed. Hazuki ignored them and quietly rolled to his desk.

Life burned by in a hazy terror those days. Days became weeks. Weeks became months. Scars and hardened tissue developed on Hazuki’s body from the never-ending torment. Mercifully, time moved enough so that the day finally arrived for Hazuki to lose his wheelchair and have his cast removed. He had never wanted to use crutches after seeing how the boys treated his chair. He feared a single beam of support would invite even more harassment But now it was inescapable. With the cast gone, it was either crutches or a cane for the foreseeable future as muscle was rehabbed and strength returned.

Sawblades whirred and the white cast was cut away. Beneath it was revealed a pale, scarred, atrophied leg. It was a stark contrast to the healthy, athletic form it had been the last time Hazuki had seen it. There was a six-inch scar along the outside of his knee and another that ran vertically from his heel to his calf. Standard tests were done and it was confirmed that Hazuki was clear to move forward. A crutch was selected and he was discharged.

Even after weeks of rehab, his range of motion never fully returned. His leg refused to bend as much as he wished, and his toes now longer seemed to want to move compared to the other foot. More and more, it seemed his body was never going to return to the form it had been just a few months ago. Hazuki couldn’t help but feel his body and soul were mirroring the state of existence he found himself in. Thus he resigned himself to be a shadow of what he once was, and as puberty continued to rage through his body, Hazuki slowly became less and less recognizable.

The only thing that remained the same was his hair. No matter how much he was bullied, or how much pressure he got from the adults he refused to cut a single strand. In the absence of connection to the outside world, it was the only thing that made him think of better times. Of her.

Sometimes she would appear to him in dreams; standing alone in a never-ending sea of plum trees, looking for him but never seeing him. As sad as the dreams made him feel when he awoke each time, he cherished them as his only respite from his current hell.

Time passed, and the crutch eventually lost its usage. Hazuki could still not walk with a normal gait, but he accepted the movement he could achieve. Steps were labored, and muscles felt rigid, but at least it wasn’t the chair.

‘Maybe one day I’ll be able to swim again,’ he thought to himself as he limped to the cafeteria that day.

It had been over a week since Hazuki had spoken to a person. Thankfully it had been a few days since he had been jumped by any of the groups of boys. His lack of a wheelchair or crutch made him less interesting, and now there was another new boy who was taking the brunt of their attention. The boy was younger than Hazuki. Maybe thirteen. He was overweight, covered in acne, wore glasses, and had crooked teeth. He didn’t stand a chance.

Hazuki entered the cafeteria for lunch and saw that the boy was sitting alone as well, and was already being eyed by the nearby predators. Only one adult sat in the corner. The man was old, unhappy, and never seemed to exert himself to stop any antagonistic actions happening in front of him. Hazuki did not like the feeling of the room. Still, he limped towards the serving stations and retrieved his underwhelming lunch.

‘Itadakimasu,’ he thought to himself as he clapped his hands and slumped to his seat.

Behind him, the commotion was already beginning. The predators were circling the young boy with taunts and prods. One boy was throwing pieces of bread at the boy. The old man sat with his eyes closed. Hazuki turned and watched. He recognized several of the bullies as the same ones who had been attacking him. His body itched in anger as he watched the scene unfold.

One boy began to eat the young boy’s food while the other continued throwing bread.

Hazuki felt the itch turn into a pulling sensation.

Anger slowly drifted to rage.

Another boy was there now, laughing at the young boy and removing his glasses.

Rage began to boil within Hazuki. Something inside him began to unravel. Months of torment and a damaged psyche full of trauma and hate were all rioting in his chest. He stood without realizing it.

The boy grabbed the young boy’s tea and began to pour it on the young boy’s head.

Hazuki grabbed his plastic lunch tray and began limping towards the scene. The plastic was cheap, dense, and hard to the touch. Hazuki removed the contents from his tray as he moved forward. It happened in a blur. He was not fully thinking but was also thinking more clearly than he had in months. Clarity had struck him in a fit of rage, and now all he could see was an image of him violently pouring all of his sorrow and rage onto the closest thing he could. If gods or fate wouldn’t face him, this boy would do.

Hazuki reached the scene, and before any of the bullies could speak, he clasped his empty tray in both hands and swung it horizontally with as much force as he could. The straight line of hard plastic struck the main bully directly in the mouth. There was a snapping noise as several of his teeth cracked instantly. The noise he let out was like an animal being drowned by air. He clasped his mouth in terror and flinched to the ground. Hazuki was already on his next target.

He was on top of the next boy before anyone could react, and once again swung the tray as hard as he could into the side of the boy’s head. It didn’t satisfy him so he swung again. And again. And again. Only then did the thud make a noise that he appreciated. He felt a sense of release as the boy fell to the ground with vacant, stunned eyes and began to vomit from shock.

Hazuki turned and saw the young boy cowering in fear with the last bully behind him. Hazuki grabbed him to shield him and pushed him behind. The old man had finally registered the commotion and stood to address them. The last bully saw and realized it would be no help. He was alone with this uncaged animal.

“You want his food you son of a bitch?!” growled Hazuki.

He stumbled and leaped onto the boy. They fell to the ground in an awkward tumble, and the bully almost got on top of Hazuki. In desperation, Hazuki dug his nails into the boy’s face and pulled down. The boy screamed out as red lines appeared on his forehead and cheeks.

While the bully’s mouth was opened, Hazuki grabbed a handful of food and violently shoved it into the boy’s open maw. The bully tried to close his mouth but Hazuki pried it open with all his might.

“No no no you need more! You seemed hungry!” he screamed as he shoved more food in the bully’s mouth. Then more. And then more. The boy began to choke.

“Chew it! Chew it!” yelled Hazuki.

Tears were running down his cheeks now. He pinned the bully down and began to smear the food all over the bully’s face. The old man was there now along with a cook, and feeble old hands wrestled Hazuki off, but not before Hazuki got one solid kick into the bully’s stomach. Hazuki found himself being dragged away.

“You better watch your backs! I’m going to drown you in your damn sleep!” he screamed out as he was pulled out the door.

Reports were filed and it finally came to light how much bullying had been occurring at the orphanage. No charges were pressed but Hazuki was disciplined like the rest of them. Weeks of labor and cleaning were to be his penance. He didn’t care. The elation of exacting some form of retaliation and justice on those cruel boys had given him more happiness than anything else in the last several months. It was with that feeling he had laid down that night. Sleep arrived and Hazuki drifted off into dreams. Once again, he dreamt of Naoe. It was while he was dreaming that he found himself being ripped out of bed and thrown onto the floor.

Consciousness had barely returned before the blows started. This time it was not just in hidden areas. Hard-packed pillowcases struck him in the head, face, crotch, stomach, everywhere.

“Take that you punk! You think you’re cool standing up for the fat kid?!” screamed one of the bullies.

“You think you’re tough?!’ screamed another as Hazuki’s lip tore open once again.

Hazuki tried to fight back but he was too stunned from the strikes to the head. He clawed for their hand but it was no luck. Then they were on top of him and Hazuki saw one of them remove a pair of craft scissors. Terror soaked him.

“You’ve always liked your stupid hair haven’t you?” asked the bully as he snapped the scissors.

“No! No!” screamed Hazuki as he tried to fight.

They were too much.

“Hold him!” they screamed.

Scissors were at Hazuki’s head now. Snips tore through his hair and he felt clumps of it falling around him.

“No!!!” he screamed.

Naoe flashed in his thoughts.

His hair was all he had left.

He screamed with all of his might and swung at the nearest boy, striking them in the throat. The boy gasped for air in horror and Hazuki used that moment to flip him over. Hazuki began to gather himself and stand but another boy jumped on his back. Hazuki wrestled him down and head-butted him. The strike caused his eyes to water and a taste of rust flooded his mouth, but he didn’t stop.

Still it wasn’t enough. There were three of them and only him, and they swarmed him with even more rage now. The strikes came from all directions even as Hazuki tried to stand. Then the stomp came.

His leg had been extended as he tried to brace himself, and in a brief moment, it seemed like he might be able to hold them off. In desperation, one of the bullies looked at his leg and identified his opportunity. As Hazuki wrestled with the others, the boy stood over him and raised his own leg. His foot came down in full swing, and stomped into Hazuki’s knee, snapping it downward.

Hazuki let out a blood-curdling scream and fell to the ground. His screams continued, unable to be contained as it felt like his leg was being sawed off at the knee. The boys continued to strike, and by the time the adults arrived, his leg had been permanently damaged, and he’d suffered a concussion and two broken ribs and his hair had been cropped to his scalp...

He did not dream about Naoe again for a very long time.