Burning the Leaves. Straight Through the Shadows.

Feet hung limp in the air PLEASEGODSNO

Dead limbs held dead limbs. PLEASEGODNOTTHISMEMORY

Trees stood barren like skeletal beasts as they stood silently watching over the child screaming in terror.

PLEASEGODANYTHINGBUTTHIS IDONTWANTTOREMEMBERTHIS

WHYCANTIREMEMBERANYTHINGNICE?!

Remember the girl at the plum blossoms

rememberthegirlattheplumblossoms

rememberthegirl

D O N ‘ T R E M E M B E R A N Y T H I N G

R E M E M B E R I N G I S T O O P A I N F U L

Forget it all.

Blood ran from Hazuki’s lip. It was the second time this week. He had been at the orphanage for nine 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 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 had 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 pillow cases 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 actual 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 raining. 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 lie 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 of 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. Yet 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 no 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. Whoever she was.

Sometimes she would appear to him in illegible dreams; standing alone in a never-ending sea of smudged, half-remembered 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. Still, he felt his spirit pushing the dreams down more and more every night, as the respite became regret. Remembering anything outside of the walls he was now confined within was becoming a torturous labor that threatened to destroy him.

Time passed, and the crutch eventually lost its usefulness. 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 crutches 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. Even though he had tolerated life’s tragedies and misery for himself, Hazuki could not stand seeing others being abused any longer.

He stood without realizing.

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 onto 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 made 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 leapt 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 fucking sleep!” he screamed out as he was pulled out the door.

Blood ran down his knuckles and roiled in his veins. For the moment, he felt alive. Joy and peace were gone from his heart, but terror and rage were finally present. For the moment, that was enough.