꧁𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝙷𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚊꧂

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟚𝟟

'I wonder if I should check up on Shōyō... I've got a bad feeling but I can't quite put my finger on it...'

—warning! Gory details (viewer digression is advised)-

Hinata read the message over and over.

His heart seemed to quicken in pace as the word rang in his head; circling his thoughts in a deadly manner.

'𝑚𝑜𝑚... 𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑.'

The word 'mother' just didn't sit right with Hinata. Maybe this was just someone playing a prank on him? Maybe it wasn't really his mother.

He couldn't bare to look into her grotesque features.

The image of her face popped into his head. Her eyes seemed to be scribbled out with black, light brown hair falling delicately around her slender shoulders.

She was a tall women in reality. Her image was obviously not passed on to Hinata however; he had got most of his genes from his dad.

Hinata was half happy about this fact.

His father wasn't like her. He was a kind a generous man, he loved Hinata and Natsu to death. The man wouldn't bat an eye if he were given the option to save his or their life.

Unfortunately, his kind mature was taken advantage of by the manipulative lady. She threatened him to leave with her or else there would be consequences in the near future.

He obviously didn't want any harm to come to his children so he followed obediently.

But to Hinata, his actions were just as unforgivable as hers. He hated him just as much.

There was a burning hatred that festered in his heart. One of growing malice which kept his tethered to his broken past, no matter how hard he tried to forget.

Hinata had actually been doing well without them finally. Now this shit happens, and he was furious.

Hinata trembled as he looked at the screen with sunken eyes. His teeth gritted to the point where his whole body was shaking.

'𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑚'

"what a load of bullshit!" He screamed, smashing his phone on the floor as he sprung of his bed. He slammed his foot on the phone screen; the shards of glass slicing through the flesh on his feet.

He hissed in pain and repeatedly smashed the devise over and over with his bleeding foot. The glass imbedded themselves deeper with every step; his eyes stinging with tears as he looked down.

The phone was but a mere pile of metal and glass now; you wouldn't be able to tell it was a phone anymore.

He picked up a bigger piece of glass from the floor and sunk to the ground. His thighs hadn't stopped bleeding, and the pain in his right foot was absolutely agonising.