"Momma, where is papa?" Shiro's mother turned to him, a cold look in her eyes. She snarled at the four year old.
"He's left because of you, brat!" Her fists were clenched at her sides, shaking. Her eyes were wide open, her teeth clenched. She was furious and it scared Shiro.
Shiro didn't understand. Papa left because of him? But he always seemed happy. He would smile and tell Shiro how much he loved him. Did I make papa sad? Or is he mad? Why?
Mitsuba took a step towards her son, swaying slightly, almost losing balance. She gripped the edge of one of the small tables that littered the room tightly. She took a another step forward, tripping over the rug laid across the floor.
"Momma!" The little boy rushed to his mother's side, kneeling down next to here. "Momma, are you oka-?" A hand was brought down on his face. It stung. It felt like bees were stinging his face, over and over. Shiro yelped, instantly bringing his hand to his face.
"Shut up, brat! You're useless! Piece of shit. . ." She yelled, pushing herself up. Mitsuba walked into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle.
Shiro stayed on the floor. He had never been hit by his parents ever. He saw on TV children being hit when they did something bad. What did I do? Am I bad?
Mitsuba looked at the bottle. "Fuck, it's already half gone," She muttered before shrugging, tipping the bottle up and downing the whole thing. She stumbled back into the living room where Shiro still sat, rubbing his cheek with his hand.
"Oi, brat, get your ass over here," Mitsuba slurred. Shiro looked at the ground. What if momma hits me again? He didn't want to stand up. He didn't want to go near his mother. He was afraid of her. He stood up, nonetheless, walking slowly towards his mother.
"Hurry the fuck up!" Shiro jumped, picking his pace up, not wanting to make his mom any angrier than she already was.
The little boy stood in front of his mom. He whimpered slightly. He had never been this scared in his life. He wanted papa back. Papa made him feel safe and happy.
"Momma, I'm sorry-," He was cut off by his mother's cold, terrifying voice.
"Shut up, brat!" She screamed before bringing the empty bottle onto her son's head.
Shiro woke up panting. Sweat dripped down his face. He brought his shaking hands to his face, wiping his white hair from his face. He took a deep breath in, trying to calm himself down, something he was never good at.
The boy glanced around the room, his sky blue eyes searching for his glasses. He sighed shakily. Everything was blurry and finding his glasses was an almost impossible task to complete.
Shiro's hand gently patted the ground around him before he felt the metal frame of his glasses. He sighed in relief. After placing the glasses on his face, he snuck out of his room, searching for a clock. Once he reached the kitchen, he read the clock hanging from the wall. 6:16. Shiro's eyes widened. He had fourteen minutes to get ready before his mother woke up. If she saw that he was still home, she'd punish him. The boys breath quickened. He ran as quietly as he could to the bathroom, quickly getting ready. Once he had grabbed everything, he rushed out the door. He slowed down once he reached his bus stop. He sigh of relief escaped the boy.
Shiro sat down, pulling a book out of his bag. Books we're one of the few things his mother allowed him to have. He didn't have a phone, a TV, any gaming console, a computer, or anything really. Books were his favorite thing.
He adjusted his glasses uncomfortably as two girls sat on the bench next to him, talking about some anime or something.
"God, did you see how hot Ash is?!" One girl said, bouncing up and down excitedly.
"I personally like Eiji more," The other girl said, picking at her fingernails, not entirely interested in the conversation.
"No, no, Ash is definitely hotter," A new voice input, this one was male. Shiro glanced over the top of his book at the new person. It was Makoto Aoi, the most popular boy in school. Also the hottest and gayest boy in the entire school.
"See, Kou!? Ash is better than Eiji," The first girl said.
"Whatever, Momoko," The girl, Kou, muttered. Shiro could practically hear the roll of her eyes.
"What do you think Shiro?" Said boy jumped, his breathing getting a little bit faster.
"U-um, I don't real, really know w-what you guys a-are talking a-about." Shiro cursed himself for stuttering so much.
"So you haven't seen Banana Fish?!" Momoko gasped, clearly surprised.
Shiro shook his head. "S-sorry," He whispered.
"That's alright, Shiro. I think you should check it out, though. It's really good." Makoto smiled at Shiro, causing the boy to blush. God, that smile was so perfect. "Aww, you're so cute when you blush, Shiro!" The white haired boy blushed more, burying his face in his book. Makoto laughed.
Shiro's breathing picked up for the third time that day. His mind raced. Makoto thinks I'm cute? Oh god, what if he's lying just to be nice? What if he actually thinks I'm really annoying? He wouldn't be the first.
Shiro jumped, feeling a hand on his shoulder. He forgot how to breathe for a few seconds. He couldn't remember the last time someone had touched him with good intentions.
"Are you alright?" Makoto asked. Shiro looked down. Makoto was touching him. What if he wanted to hurt him? Shiro didn't want to be hurt.
"I-I-I'm, I'm fine," he choked out, tightly gripping his book. His vision was starting to get a little blurry and dark. He felt the hand move away from his shoulder, and he sighed, relieved.
"I'm sorry," Makoto whispered, not wanting the girls, who were now having their own conversation, to hear. Shiro stayed silent. He opened his mouth before closing it again.
"W-what for?" Shiro brought his hand to his mouth, biting his already damaged cuticles. Makoto stared at his fingers for a while, looking as if he was analyzing something. Shiro shifted uncomfortably. Seeing this, Makoto looked away.
"For touching you without your consent, it clearly made you uncomfortable and I'm sorry." The boy looked down, cracking his fingers.
Shiro shook his head frantically, reaching out to touch the other boy, but deciding against it. "N-no! It's a-alright! You didn't k-know." Shiro cursed himself, clenching his fists. Makoto, who hadn't done anything wrong, was upset because of him.
Makoto glanced back up again, a small smile appearing on his face. Shiro's heart pounded in his chest. "Thanks, but I won't do it again without asking." Shiro nodded in thanks, not really knowing how to respond.
Makoto looked as if he was about to say something, but the bus pulled up to the stop. Shiro grabbed his bag, quickly walking onto the bus with his head down.
Makoto stared at the albino as he walked away, his head tilted to the side. He sighed, getting onto the bus. There's something going on with him. . .