Distracting the Storm

nulla_09

Hajime looked at the crumpled wad of yen in her hands with disappointment. "Tch, that girl barely had anything on her. What a waste of time," she grumbled, stuffing the money into her pockets. The black-haired girl with strange grey tips had run off, wearing some strange cosplay-looking outfit that she couldn't understand.

It had been a few years since she had joined up with the local town's gang - well, 'gang' would be overstating how threatening they were. A group of young students, mostly male, had found her going back to the orphanage after school, and they had surrounded her to try and extort money from her.

But once she had beaten them all in a fight, she immediately earned their respect and was given an invitation to join their gang. Out of desperation and loneliness, Hajime accepted their offer. She bleached her brown hair blonde, cut it, and climbed their ranks until she became their leader. She began drinking, smoking, doing drugs, and extorting money like the other gangsters.

She wasn't physically alone anymore, but she had become forsaken by everyone. She couldn't tell if that was worse than she had been, and at this point, she didn't want to know.

With a small sigh, she leaned against the brick wall of an alleyway. "Not many people are out tonight. Might as well head back and try again tomorrow," she decided.

"You sure, boss? ...Is something wrong?"

One of the boys had responded to her, quickly drawing the attention of the others. The gang's members were mostly apathetic to each other, but knew each other well enough to share drugs. But asking Hajime about her home life was outright forbidden.

The girl glared at the offending member and cracked her knuckles. "The hell'd you just say, punk? You have a death wish?" she threatened, and the boy shrank down and backed up. Hajime huffed as she saw her maintained superiority as the group's leader and best brawler. "I'm heading back. Don't you fucking follow me."

Without another word, Hajime began walking back in the direction of the orphanage. In truth, there was something wrong, but she couldn't afford to show any weakness. There was always something wrong with her, something that haunted her for a long time. It wasn't something that talking couldn't solve, not for her.

After ten minutes of walking, Hajime found the orphanage on the edge of town. It was fairly rundown, with the staff pocketing the government money rather than using it for repairs. The food there was bland and lacked nutrients, but the money Hajime stole that night would pay for her breakfast the next morning. With another sigh, Hajime walked through the door.

The matron was there at the front, waiting with a disapproving look. "You're past curfew. Again," she chided as Hajime came through the door. "We might as well just lock you out at this rate."

"Gimme a break, I had to take a detour. You know damn well that the main road is still under construction," Hajime snapped back. "You know, you could just kick me out."

"You know why we can't." The matron looked away as she said those words. Indeed, Hajime knew that the orphanage taking her in as a little girl was crucial to their public relations. Hajime had been dug up from her family registrar and turned into a throw-away child, and that documentation was public. If the orphanage kicked her out after the hospital had given her to them, it would look bad on them.

Suddenly, Hajime noticed a piece of paper in her hand. "Is that an envelope?" she asked.

"Yes, it's for you. From the school," the woman coldly told her, handing her the envelope. "Get to bed, you worthless thing."

Hajime took it from her hand and sulked as she headed up the stairs. She was tired of the life she was being given so far, tired of being yelled at by adults, tired of being looked at like a monster. But she didn't see anything that could be done about it, so she resolved to just get stronger drugs to block out her weak thoughts.