Orphan Nanny

comfort and adjustments

Tenko stared around the lady's house cautiously. It had been a few days since he was last warm, and he was thankful she stopped to help him.

Familiar rage boiled inside him as he remembered the people that passed him on the streets, of how most merely spared fleeting glances before continuing on their way. He was less than mud to them. No...at least people were disgusted by mud. They couldn't even be bothered to show pity.

An old lady that reminded him painful of his grandmother had approached him on the street the day before the other lady did; asking if he was alright and where his parents were. But when he went to ask for help, she turned away and didn't look back.

Nobody ever looked back.

Every single one, he remembered, had just muttered or made a passing comment—"The Heroes will sort him out, there's no need to worry."

"Don't bother, darling, the Heroes will be here soon to collect him."

"That poor boy... Someone ought to contact the Heroes."

"I wonder where his parents are? Ah, no matter, I'm late and I'm sure the Heroes will arrive shortly."

Heroes Heroes Heroes

Heroes

It's all their fault, Tenko thought darkly with his eyes downcast to study his trembling, scraped hands. The debris from the yard had pierced his skin and left him bleeding, but he couldn't be bothered to care because his panicked thoughts pushed through the stinging and all he could think was how the Heroes were to blame. Father was right to hate them.

"Kid, are you...okay?" the lady asked. Tenko whipped his head up on instinct at the sudden voice, and was surprised to see how concerned she looked. Worry pinched her brow and made her frown, and in her hand she held a fluffy pale mint-green towel that matched her eyes. Tenko had thought how odd her eyes were when he first saw her—why were her pupils white?—but it didn't last long as all he could think was that she would just walk away like everyone else and tell him how the Heroes would help them like they always would-

"...Yes," Tenko said, but it was stilted and sounded more like a question.

The lady crouched down in front of him much like she did when she found him, and she wrapped the towel she had around his shoulders, rubbing it against his forearms to try and get him warm and dry.

"You've been out there for days, haven't you?" she muttered, but it was more to herself than him. "It's gonna take some good scrubbing to get this dirt and blood off..."

Tenko stiffened. Even at the tender age of six, he knew blood was frowned upon.

His thoughts went back to that day in preschool, where he arrived with some blood on the collar of his shirt.

Dad was drunk that morning, and Mama hadn't been happy about that. She had tried to take the bottle from him when he got louder, but he threw it at the wall and it shattered. Mama still couldn't get the stains out. Some glass came flying and cut the skin on his neck enough to bleed, but only sting. His parents and sister and grandparents didn't notice when he was dropped off at school, but his teacher panicked and called the principal.

When he got home Dad was furious.

Nothing was done about it.

But...this lady—she didn't seem fazed at the sight of it, and only tried to rub off some of the dirt lingering on his exposed and sodden skin.

Tenko felt a shiver wrack him when she pulled away, and longed for body heat. Hands on her hips and a considering frown on her face, she studied Tenko closely like she was trying to decide what to do with him.