Alone In This World - Chapter 1/? - Tora/Saga - PG (For now)
Title: Alone In This World
Author: Kavikalphawolf
Beta: None
Band/Pairing: Tora/Saga [alice nine.]
Prompt: [8] Picture (For tragic_ennui)
Rating: PG (So far)
Chapter: 1/?
Genre: AU/Romance
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Do not own these guys.
Summary: Do you know what it's like to have nothing? To live day by day, worrying nearly every second if you'll have enough food for the next meal, or a roof over your head to protect you when you sleep at night? I do.
Comment(s): Not sure if I like this one or not. XD; First time experimenting with present-tense first person.
Do you know what it's like to have nothing? To live day by day, worrying nearly every second if you'll have enough food for the next meal, or a roof over your head to protect you when you sleep at night? I do. It's my entire life and it always has been. From the time I was born, even before it, my family has been dirt poor. We live on the cheap side of town, where gang fights and thieves are common, everyday occurrences. There's no telling how many times I've been pressed to the cold, unforgiving brick wall of some run down establishment with a knife to my neck and a desperate man threatening me to give him all I have on me.
At first I hated it, was afraid to even go home in the evenings after school. Then I began to realize it was never going to change. Father was never going to get a better job than he had and mother was never going to recover from the trauma that was the death of my eldest brother. I just had to deal with it and move on. Besides, who else was going to protect my three younger siblings from the harsh streets?
Aside from my father I'm the oldest man of the house. My father is hardly there because of his job, so it's basically just me. Me who is caring for mother and making sure she eats something. Me who is helping my siblings with homework and fixing their lunches for the next day at school. Me who does everything.
I know my father would be around more if he could, so I'm not bad-mouthing him. I respect my father in the utmost ways, but I detest having to take so much responsibility so quickly. Most kids my age are out partying, enjoying their high school years together, but me...I have not even one friend. Most of the time I'm made fun of, pushed to the ground and spat on for my hand-me-down uniform that's typically cluttered with dirt and other stains since we haven't the money to wash clothes but once a week.
I'm not much of a fighter, never have been, so I typically just let it happen and stare at their laughing, retreating backs until they're out of sight. Then I get up, dust myself off, and continue on with my day. True, it hurts, but the pain numbs after awhile, and you get used to it. I did.
"Aww, look at the little worm. How long has it been since you last had a bath, you maggot?"
A taunting voice I've grown so very used to over these past two years in high school. You would think he'd respect me for being a year older than him, in the highest grade, but no. Respect means nothing but expensive clothes and a smartass attitude to him.
"Come here, Sakamoto. You haven't had your daily beating."
I saw that sneer erupt across his cruel lips and knew it was my cue to run. My legs broke into a dash before my mind comprehended it all, and before I knew it I was hauling ass through the courtyard of the school, the bully and his cronies following closely behind me.
This didn't happen often. Usually if I ran, they wouldn't follow at risk of running into a teacher, but apparently they were feeling rather lucky today. Isn't life just beautiful that way?
My feet continue to think before my head and take the path that they choose. It leads out behind the school, where the pool is at for gym class. Some kids are lurking around, wading their feet in the pool, and chatting or playing on their cell phone before class starts again once lunch is over.
I don't pay them much mind as he head their way, though I know most heads are turned towards me or the bullies in my pursuit. Their laughter is loud, devilish to my own ears as they chase me like I'm their prey.
Then all in one moment everything changes and I regret my legs' choice of path. One of the bullies catches up to me just as I'm passing the pool, and I'm sure you can guess what he chooses to do. With one slight push I'm tripping, landing hard in the cold water of the pool. My uniform gets sufficiently soaked, my school bag drenched and everything inside most likely ruined.
As I splutter to the top of the water for air and observe all the laughter around me, I do something I haven't in a long time. I cry. Warm wetness trickles down my cheeks, mixing and contrasting the cold water of the pool that drips from my hair and onto my face. I don't even make a move to get out of the water; too upset to really think about it. My mind swirls with emotion and all in a flash I hate my life again. Hate that I was born to such a poor family and have to subject to such torture each and every day.
"I'll bet that water is unfamiliar to you, huh, Sakamoto?" Spoke around laughter the words are much harsher than otherwise.
I endure the laughter and humiliation until the bell to return to class rings throughout the school and surrounding areas. I'm almost thankful for it as everyone disperses, some still chuckling.
Once I see that everyone is gone, I finally pull myself from the water, feeling the cold wind brush against my wet skin and freeze me to the bone. It makes goosebumps pop up all down my arms and then my entire body, shivers passing through me again and again.
"I can't go to class like this..." It's spoke through light sobs, making my voice almost unrecognizable, even to my own ears so used to hearing it.
"No, you can't."
Who was that?
I whip my head around, following the sound of the words, until I see a young man about my age standing over me with the kindest smile that I have ever seen dancing upon his thin lips.
His uniform betrays he's a student here at the school, and his accent reveals he's probably relatively new, obviously not from around this area, or even this country if I'm hearing right.
The moment my eyes reach his, I feel the sensation of a soft, dry cloth pressed to one of my cheeks. I feel it gently rubbing the area as he kneels, setting his bag aside to have the freedom of his other hand. With it he holds my chin, cleaning up the dampness staining my cheeks and the moisture still spilling from my eyes.
"You're just a mess, aren't you?" It's said with such utter sympathy and pity that I can't even remotely begin to take offense. I just watch him, letting the tears flow even though I'm mildly ashamed of them. I worry that he's going to get mad at having to clean up more and more liquid on my face, but his expression just seems to soften more the more the tears fall down my cheeks.
I don't know why I continue to cry as he attempts to help me. One might think I'd stop and thank him for his kindness, but instead I'm stunned into silence, letting myself be cared for.
"Let's get you to the office so you can call home."
I watch him stand and put the handkerchief back into his jacket pocket, doubtlessly unworried about how damp it is by now. His hand extends down to me, urging me to take it so that I too can get back onto my own feet.
Without much thought one of my wet, shaking hands reaches for his and feels the soft sensation of his skin. My other hand holds tight to my soaked bag as he helps me to my unsteady feet. I lean against him at first, until realization kicks in that I'm wet and most likely getting him wet as well.
"Sorry." The apology is meek and I pull away from him, bowing my head in a display of both respect and gratefulness. It is then with surprise that I feel myself drawn back towards his body by a strong, yet gentle arm. I'm forced to lean as I had before, and how my body wants.
"Don't apologize." I hear him murmur, warmth practically radiating from his voice and words, as if they were sunshine on a cold winter day. "I don't mind at all." Is his kind and caring nature neverending? I've never met anyone else like him before. "Just tell me your name and we'll be even."
A grin, but a playful one, sprouts on his face as we begin to walk, his words the epitome of whimsical sincerity. Hearing it, I can't help but oblige him. "Sakamoto, Takashi. But...I like being called Saga." My voice is small and suddenly I hate it. This other student's has such courage within its depths that it puts mine to shame. "What about yours?" Somehow I know he won't mind me asking.
"Amano, Shinji." Then he pauses for a brief moment. "But if you're going to be called Saga, then you can call me Tora." Tiger? Strange, but I don't ask. Just accept it for what it is.
As we reach the office, my clothes and bag dripping water all over the floor inside the school, I finally realize what I should have said right from the beginning. "Tora-san I can't call home. I don't have a home phone. Or anyone at home for that matter." Even my mother goes out during the day, at urgings from my father that she needs to get out in the sunlight.
"Then you'll come to my house." It was a simple statement, said with confidence and kindness that I was almost too reluctant to turn away. But with a shake of my head I see his smile falter and I can tell my refusal hurt him, even if just a little.
"I can't. I have to stay here." I'm too worried about my father getting mad that I left school, even though in my heart I know he'd understand.
Tora sighs under his breath and I know it's either one of agitation or of pity. I don't know which, though.
"I'll walk you home then. Does that sound alright? You can't stay here in wet clothes."
I know it's true, that his words are right in every sense. Therefore I can only nod in response, happy to see his smile again. It's so sincere and reassuring, and he seems more like a friend I've known for years, rather than someone I just met not even half an hour ago. "Thank you."
He doesn't respond to my words as he walks to the front desk of the office and inquires about walking me home, but I know he heard it loud and clear. I can tell from his demeanor.
It had taken about fifteen minutes for Tora to get clearance to take me home, since most of the staff knew of my home situation anyway. Luckily they hadn't uttered a word to Tora about it, and therefore we were able to walk along the streets in comfortable silence as we were now. Though, the moment we reached my neighborhood--or neared it, rather--I stopped and refused to let him go beyond a certain point.
"Look, Tora, thank you for helping me, really, but...this isn't the kind of neighborhood you want to be in." Confusion dances in his eyes as he stares down the road he knows I'm about to follow. "This is cheapside. If you have anything valuable on you, it'll get taken. By force or otherwise."
"But...Doesn't that put you in danger?"
It's a weak protest, but I can tell he really is worried. And I don't quite understand why.
"Yes, but this is where I live. I'm used to it." I know it's not the answer he wants to hear, but it's the truth and the truth is always better than lies.
Tora is silent for a few long moments, just standing there with his bag resting on his wrist with both hands buried in his pockets, but just as I turn to start down the road, he catches my arm, the wet fabric further sticking to my skin. "That's why you were picked on...wasn't it?"
It's my turn to be confused, but rather than think much on it, I nod. "My family's...well, we're not as well off as others." I hate the terms 'poor' and 'poverty' even though they describe my family perfectly. "But it's not like we're the only ones, right?"
"No, but...won't you come to my house? Just this once? You can borrow some of my clothes and we'll wash yours."
He seems...almost afraid. His expression is set in a light frown, eyes turning their attentions onto me yet again, and his posture is more rigid than I had seen him be yet. There's even a slight sense of desperation in his tone. Why is he looking out for me like this? He's only just met me. There's not even friendship between us. Just a debt from me to him. I owe him a lot, and I don't want to owe anymore. Still...that face of his is awfully convincing.
"Okay, but I have to pick up my little brothers and sister from school later..."
All at once his features light up. His eyes are bright and happy again, a playful grin on his lips, and his stance relaxes just a mild fraction. "Fair enough. Now follow me."
As if I would think about doing otherwise.
Author: Kavikalphawolf
Beta: None
Band/Pairing: Tora/Saga [alice nine.]
Prompt: [8] Picture (For tragic_ennui)
Rating: PG (So far)
Chapter: 1/?
Genre: AU/Romance
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Do not own these guys.
Summary: Do you know what it's like to have nothing? To live day by day, worrying nearly every second if you'll have enough food for the next meal, or a roof over your head to protect you when you sleep at night? I do.
Comment(s): Not sure if I like this one or not. XD; First time experimenting with present-tense first person.
Do you know what it's like to have nothing? To live day by day, worrying nearly every second if you'll have enough food for the next meal, or a roof over your head to protect you when you sleep at night? I do. It's my entire life and it always has been. From the time I was born, even before it, my family has been dirt poor. We live on the cheap side of town, where gang fights and thieves are common, everyday occurrences. There's no telling how many times I've been pressed to the cold, unforgiving brick wall of some run down establishment with a knife to my neck and a desperate man threatening me to give him all I have on me.
At first I hated it, was afraid to even go home in the evenings after school. Then I began to realize it was never going to change. Father was never going to get a better job than he had and mother was never going to recover from the trauma that was the death of my eldest brother. I just had to deal with it and move on. Besides, who else was going to protect my three younger siblings from the harsh streets?
Aside from my father I'm the oldest man of the house. My father is hardly there because of his job, so it's basically just me. Me who is caring for mother and making sure she eats something. Me who is helping my siblings with homework and fixing their lunches for the next day at school. Me who does everything.
I know my father would be around more if he could, so I'm not bad-mouthing him. I respect my father in the utmost ways, but I detest having to take so much responsibility so quickly. Most kids my age are out partying, enjoying their high school years together, but me...I have not even one friend. Most of the time I'm made fun of, pushed to the ground and spat on for my hand-me-down uniform that's typically cluttered with dirt and other stains since we haven't the money to wash clothes but once a week.
I'm not much of a fighter, never have been, so I typically just let it happen and stare at their laughing, retreating backs until they're out of sight. Then I get up, dust myself off, and continue on with my day. True, it hurts, but the pain numbs after awhile, and you get used to it. I did.
"Aww, look at the little worm. How long has it been since you last had a bath, you maggot?"
A taunting voice I've grown so very used to over these past two years in high school. You would think he'd respect me for being a year older than him, in the highest grade, but no. Respect means nothing but expensive clothes and a smartass attitude to him.
"Come here, Sakamoto. You haven't had your daily beating."
I saw that sneer erupt across his cruel lips and knew it was my cue to run. My legs broke into a dash before my mind comprehended it all, and before I knew it I was hauling ass through the courtyard of the school, the bully and his cronies following closely behind me.
This didn't happen often. Usually if I ran, they wouldn't follow at risk of running into a teacher, but apparently they were feeling rather lucky today. Isn't life just beautiful that way?
My feet continue to think before my head and take the path that they choose. It leads out behind the school, where the pool is at for gym class. Some kids are lurking around, wading their feet in the pool, and chatting or playing on their cell phone before class starts again once lunch is over.
I don't pay them much mind as he head their way, though I know most heads are turned towards me or the bullies in my pursuit. Their laughter is loud, devilish to my own ears as they chase me like I'm their prey.
Then all in one moment everything changes and I regret my legs' choice of path. One of the bullies catches up to me just as I'm passing the pool, and I'm sure you can guess what he chooses to do. With one slight push I'm tripping, landing hard in the cold water of the pool. My uniform gets sufficiently soaked, my school bag drenched and everything inside most likely ruined.
As I splutter to the top of the water for air and observe all the laughter around me, I do something I haven't in a long time. I cry. Warm wetness trickles down my cheeks, mixing and contrasting the cold water of the pool that drips from my hair and onto my face. I don't even make a move to get out of the water; too upset to really think about it. My mind swirls with emotion and all in a flash I hate my life again. Hate that I was born to such a poor family and have to subject to such torture each and every day.
"I'll bet that water is unfamiliar to you, huh, Sakamoto?" Spoke around laughter the words are much harsher than otherwise.
I endure the laughter and humiliation until the bell to return to class rings throughout the school and surrounding areas. I'm almost thankful for it as everyone disperses, some still chuckling.
Once I see that everyone is gone, I finally pull myself from the water, feeling the cold wind brush against my wet skin and freeze me to the bone. It makes goosebumps pop up all down my arms and then my entire body, shivers passing through me again and again.
"I can't go to class like this..." It's spoke through light sobs, making my voice almost unrecognizable, even to my own ears so used to hearing it.
"No, you can't."
Who was that?
I whip my head around, following the sound of the words, until I see a young man about my age standing over me with the kindest smile that I have ever seen dancing upon his thin lips.
His uniform betrays he's a student here at the school, and his accent reveals he's probably relatively new, obviously not from around this area, or even this country if I'm hearing right.
The moment my eyes reach his, I feel the sensation of a soft, dry cloth pressed to one of my cheeks. I feel it gently rubbing the area as he kneels, setting his bag aside to have the freedom of his other hand. With it he holds my chin, cleaning up the dampness staining my cheeks and the moisture still spilling from my eyes.
"You're just a mess, aren't you?" It's said with such utter sympathy and pity that I can't even remotely begin to take offense. I just watch him, letting the tears flow even though I'm mildly ashamed of them. I worry that he's going to get mad at having to clean up more and more liquid on my face, but his expression just seems to soften more the more the tears fall down my cheeks.
I don't know why I continue to cry as he attempts to help me. One might think I'd stop and thank him for his kindness, but instead I'm stunned into silence, letting myself be cared for.
"Let's get you to the office so you can call home."
I watch him stand and put the handkerchief back into his jacket pocket, doubtlessly unworried about how damp it is by now. His hand extends down to me, urging me to take it so that I too can get back onto my own feet.
Without much thought one of my wet, shaking hands reaches for his and feels the soft sensation of his skin. My other hand holds tight to my soaked bag as he helps me to my unsteady feet. I lean against him at first, until realization kicks in that I'm wet and most likely getting him wet as well.
"Sorry." The apology is meek and I pull away from him, bowing my head in a display of both respect and gratefulness. It is then with surprise that I feel myself drawn back towards his body by a strong, yet gentle arm. I'm forced to lean as I had before, and how my body wants.
"Don't apologize." I hear him murmur, warmth practically radiating from his voice and words, as if they were sunshine on a cold winter day. "I don't mind at all." Is his kind and caring nature neverending? I've never met anyone else like him before. "Just tell me your name and we'll be even."
A grin, but a playful one, sprouts on his face as we begin to walk, his words the epitome of whimsical sincerity. Hearing it, I can't help but oblige him. "Sakamoto, Takashi. But...I like being called Saga." My voice is small and suddenly I hate it. This other student's has such courage within its depths that it puts mine to shame. "What about yours?" Somehow I know he won't mind me asking.
"Amano, Shinji." Then he pauses for a brief moment. "But if you're going to be called Saga, then you can call me Tora." Tiger? Strange, but I don't ask. Just accept it for what it is.
As we reach the office, my clothes and bag dripping water all over the floor inside the school, I finally realize what I should have said right from the beginning. "Tora-san I can't call home. I don't have a home phone. Or anyone at home for that matter." Even my mother goes out during the day, at urgings from my father that she needs to get out in the sunlight.
"Then you'll come to my house." It was a simple statement, said with confidence and kindness that I was almost too reluctant to turn away. But with a shake of my head I see his smile falter and I can tell my refusal hurt him, even if just a little.
"I can't. I have to stay here." I'm too worried about my father getting mad that I left school, even though in my heart I know he'd understand.
Tora sighs under his breath and I know it's either one of agitation or of pity. I don't know which, though.
"I'll walk you home then. Does that sound alright? You can't stay here in wet clothes."
I know it's true, that his words are right in every sense. Therefore I can only nod in response, happy to see his smile again. It's so sincere and reassuring, and he seems more like a friend I've known for years, rather than someone I just met not even half an hour ago. "Thank you."
He doesn't respond to my words as he walks to the front desk of the office and inquires about walking me home, but I know he heard it loud and clear. I can tell from his demeanor.
It had taken about fifteen minutes for Tora to get clearance to take me home, since most of the staff knew of my home situation anyway. Luckily they hadn't uttered a word to Tora about it, and therefore we were able to walk along the streets in comfortable silence as we were now. Though, the moment we reached my neighborhood--or neared it, rather--I stopped and refused to let him go beyond a certain point.
"Look, Tora, thank you for helping me, really, but...this isn't the kind of neighborhood you want to be in." Confusion dances in his eyes as he stares down the road he knows I'm about to follow. "This is cheapside. If you have anything valuable on you, it'll get taken. By force or otherwise."
"But...Doesn't that put you in danger?"
It's a weak protest, but I can tell he really is worried. And I don't quite understand why.
"Yes, but this is where I live. I'm used to it." I know it's not the answer he wants to hear, but it's the truth and the truth is always better than lies.
Tora is silent for a few long moments, just standing there with his bag resting on his wrist with both hands buried in his pockets, but just as I turn to start down the road, he catches my arm, the wet fabric further sticking to my skin. "That's why you were picked on...wasn't it?"
It's my turn to be confused, but rather than think much on it, I nod. "My family's...well, we're not as well off as others." I hate the terms 'poor' and 'poverty' even though they describe my family perfectly. "But it's not like we're the only ones, right?"
"No, but...won't you come to my house? Just this once? You can borrow some of my clothes and we'll wash yours."
He seems...almost afraid. His expression is set in a light frown, eyes turning their attentions onto me yet again, and his posture is more rigid than I had seen him be yet. There's even a slight sense of desperation in his tone. Why is he looking out for me like this? He's only just met me. There's not even friendship between us. Just a debt from me to him. I owe him a lot, and I don't want to owe anymore. Still...that face of his is awfully convincing.
"Okay, but I have to pick up my little brothers and sister from school later..."
All at once his features light up. His eyes are bright and happy again, a playful grin on his lips, and his stance relaxes just a mild fraction. "Fair enough. Now follow me."
As if I would think about doing otherwise.