storms don't last forever | h.kazutora

chapter one

"I wish I was never born." You don't know how many times you said those words, every time you see how unfair the world is. Some kids have a place they can call home, warm food on their table, a loving mother who will hold them tightly whenever they were scared, sad or even when they were happy, and a father that they can count on.

And there are these kids who need to beg for love, meeting fists on their faces instead of a warm hug, eating whatever leftover food they will find, and wandering around until dawn as they feel unwanted in their own homes.

You are the latter.

"Fuck my life." You whisper as you light your cigarette. Scoffing bitterly, you dust the cement gutter, beside the convenience store before you sit and puff a smoke.

While you are passing time, waiting for your mother and her boyfriend to fall asleep before going home, you look at the stars. You are thinking of a reason... just one good reason why you should continue this awful life.

A mother who doesn't know how to protect her kid and a step-father who thinks liquor is water and loves to use his fist whenever he's in a bad mood. That is what you are dealing with every day and to be honest, you are tired. Sad, angry, and tired. Sometimes, you just want this to end.

On your third puff, you heard footsteps approaching that sounded like in haste. You ignored it as it didn't pique your interest. Moments later, you feel a presence sitting beside you. Curious, you look to your side and sees a kid with a messy wolf cut and a face full of bruises. He's catching his breath as if he ran a freaking marathon in the middle of the night.

"Ah! Fuck my life!" He exclaimed after regaining his breath. The young lad then gulped and looked back to see if he was still followed or not. When he's sure that he's safe, he takes a deep breath, rests his arms on his knees, and looks down.

You puffed another smoke before reaching for your pocket to get something. The young lad looked up when he felt something poking his arm.

"Band-aid?" He whispered and looked at you. His eyes widened when he saw that your face also has cuts and bruises.

"Need to clean that shit on your face before it gets infected."

"You should say that to yourself. Look at you."

"Look at you." You said in an a-matter-of-a-fact tone.

Silence fills the air as you both stares at each other. Shortly after, the quiet part of the convenience store suddenly filled with laughter.

"What a weird way to meet someone," Kazutora said.

"Right? What are the chances to meet someone similar to you?"

"Kazutora." He introduced himself, extending his hand. He tried to wipe his tears from laughing with his other hand, but quickly hissed when he felt stings from his wounds.

You put the cigarette in your mouth before accepting his hand. "y/n."

"y/n, nice name."

"Thanks." You let go of his hand and offered him your pack of cigarettes, but Kazutora took the one from your mouth and puffed a smoke, looking up to see the stars.

"Let me guess... Beating father?"

"Step-father. Fight?" You asked and took the cigarette from his lips and puffed a smoke.

"Gang fight."

"Cool."

"It's all fun and games until you get beaten to death."

"Well, at least you can hit them back."

Kazutora's face suddenly went sad. You know that kind of face because you always do that whenever you feel like losing hope.