Haruki POV.
It's not like I could go anywhere; I don't deserve anything of value. I have nothing now anyways...
So, I walked, and I didn't stop until dusk.
Until the soles of my shoes were soaked, and each step stung like I was pressing down on glass. It was painful in my casual shoes, the shoes that I'd find soaked and trashed.
I couldn't stop walking, I felt like if I did then everything would have caught up with me.
...
I didn't care how far away I was, or where I was even going.
The voices in my head were so loud, whispering to me.
(Disgusting.)
Today, the voices took on the voice of Chisaki, the girl who would beat me constantly.
She was laughing at me; her voice resounded in my head like reverberating metal.
My legs were trembling. My throat felt like sandpaper, I couldn't really think about anything, and my mind was blank.
I ran out of water hours ago.
I locked myself, and my heart away after Ayumi solidified her perspective of hatred at me.
...
"Good riddance."
...
I'll never see you again. Sorry for being such a shitty brother.
I passed another underpass, a flickering streetlamp buzzing overhead. Then I found a slow riverbank, flowing through the night.
...
Then I sat down underneath it, the pier looking out towards the river. It was on private property, but it looked abandoned so I knew no one came around here.
Guess this is it.
...
I was never a survivalist; but I knew the basics that my dad had taught me, so maybe I could learn and move into the mountains or something. Somewhere that I was away from everyone.
The problem was... that would cost money.
Lumber, rope, and transportation? It's a no go.
...
School's not an option. Not after that, I'm never going back, I'd rather be dead than to see their faces again.
...
And home? Home doesn't exist, not anymore at least.
...
"Sorry, Dad...I'm a dropout," I muttered, sitting at the riverbank, while the current flowed lazily, like it was taunting me.
Mocking me for being too weak to follow it downstream, I could just walk into it, and let it be over with.
I wanted death, an end to this whole thing. Life hasn't been kind to me anyways.
...
I wouldn't want to see my own reflection right now, even if I could. I felt horrid. I was hungry, cold, and most of all I felt dirty.
...
I've been here for about a day now...
My head throbbed.
I have to eat. Somehow.
I'm hungry, but I wasted all of my money on that date, I left...everything behind.
...
This...is going to be disgusting. I...I can't believe I'm even considering this...
...but I know FamilyMart throws away their extra food at the end of the night.
...
I...need to eat...
...
I stumbled toward a convenience store. One of those that are open 24/7 ont he side of the road behind resident housing.
I didn't go inside, I didn't have any money so it was useless. I'm not a thief either so stealing wasn't an option for me.
...
Disgusting. This is what my life is now.
...
I waited by the back of the store, behind the building.
Shadows cloaked me as I sat between two stone walls and buzzing AC units, hiding from the worker. It was already evening so I didn't have to wait too long before they came out finally with a trash bag.
Eventually, a young woman in a store apron stepped out.
She looked to be only a few years older than me, college maybe?
She...went back inside after throwing it away.
Then...I grabbed the trashbag out of the dumpster, and ripped it open on the concrete below me.
I tore open the plastic, and was met with tissues, and wrappers mainly, so no rotting food luckily.
...
There it was, some fried chicken still in its wrapping, although it had been drenched in juice or something, it seemed edible if you held your nose.
...
Trash juices, old tissues, grease....
It was disgusting...
...
But I knew I had to, it was my only way I could eat at this point.
I pulled out my water bottle, one of the few things I brought with me from home and rinsed off the food the best I could.
Then I ate the cold, soggy, shameful bites. It felt degrading...
Thinking about it, it's all I deserve anyways, I brought this on myself by being so trusting, by letting myself be taken advantage of for the sake of acceptance.
I was truly loathsome.
...
Then...a few more days passed. I build myself a little routine.
I used the water fountain behind the local library afterward to replenish my water.
I was able to make a makeshift shelter underneath the pier with some rotten wood and brush, the way my father taught me as a child.
But...I felt the darkness coming closer every single day. My thoughts grew...worse.
When the cold seeps into your skull and everything starts to feel distant.
I felt like trash, and I hated myself more. I blamed myself for everything wrong with me. Somehow, every decision I ever made had led me to this point in my life.
Not a single person would miss me if I was gone.
I could kill myself, but I wouldn't want anyone finding my body, especially local children or anything.
So...I thought of tying a rock to my ankle or something and drowning myself, so no one could find me.
...
But I was too weak, I was a wimp. I couldn't do it, even after hours of deliberation.
...
Why can't I die...?
I was sleeping beside dumpsters, and talking to voices in my own head like someone who's mentally incapable. I was obviously unwell, I know. But, at this point the voice in my head became somewhat comforting.
My old source of communication.
Somedays it was Chisaki, and others it was my family, or Fukashima. Everyday was different, yet they all told me the same thing.
They told me to end it all, and I wish I could listen to them, I really do...
Maybe I'll become courageous enough one day. Just look at me...
How far I've fallen.
...
(What's the point in carrying on?)
Shut up.
(You're all alone. Just like Dad was. Join him.)
Maybe I should.
(He did it fast. You wouldn't even feel it.)
...
I still had the rope.
I still had the knife.
Some nights, I stared at them for hours. Just staring, imagining how quick it could be if I really put my mind to it.
How easy it would be to just stick it in my neck, and drain myself.
How quiet it would be.
No more hunger. No more shame. No more anything.
I never moved, though I wish I had the courage to sometimes.
I can't. I'm too weak.
(No. You aren't, just bring the knife to your throat already.)
It had become routine by now, arguing with myself like I was two people combined into one body.
...
...
...
It was time to make something...a little more permanent I guess...until I found the strength to kill myself.
I used bundles of newspapers as a sort of flooring, attempting to cover the mud at least somewhat from the rain.
I need to build a foxhole...
Used the rope I brought with me to splice and tie the rods together, into some makeshift tent for myself.
By an old pier, I set up my new home underneath an overpass looking into the river.
...
No one came out here. It was safer.
...
I was left to myself, like how I should be.
The pier was about a mile from the convenience store, close enough for scavenging, but far enough to be forgotten.
I built a routine, one that allowed me to get some money to buy food at least. A shrewd method, but better than eating out of the dumpster only once a day.
I remembered a TV show that talked about a state sponsored program that pays and incentivizes recycling for the homeless.
So, I started collecting them around the city I'm in, digging through heaps of trash behind stores, to ones on the street.
...
Guess its real , most plastic yards pay by the kilogram.
It was...a lifesaver.
...
I'm always thinking about something, trying to keep myself distracted.
Everyone had left me.
My parents. Ayumi. Fukashima, and my girlfriend. I had no one on my side...
I had a fake girlfriend who betrayed me, even after being so nice to her.
I was accused of something I didn't do. And now... I'm like this.
I looked like hell. Hair matted, and my eyes bloodshot. I couldn't look at myself in the public restroom mirror anymore.
...
I kept busy to drown out the whispers in my head.
I try to clean myself.
I bathe at night, but the river is so cold.
And sometimes, I have the urge to keep walking, far enough to drown myself.
Sadly, I never act on those voices.
...
I'm glad I brought the jacket, but it didn't help my lower part of my body.
My toes were turning pale from the cold, so I layered three pairs of socks before sleeping.
...
I'm at risk of hypothermia if I don't.
The recycling money was enough for food most days now.
Most days.
Unless I got unlucky.
(Look at yourself.)
No.
(Is it because you hate us?)
Maybe.
Most of the time I worked on my camp, reinforcing it and fixing the tears.
I'd also go out scavenging, sometimes I'd find a busted unopened soda can or something, a lucky find.
Trying to think of anything other than the buzzing in my skull.
The whispers in my head were overwhelming.
(No one will remember you.)
You're probably right.
But I don't have time to sit around and pity myself.
I'm trying to survive.
(What's the point?)
SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH.
Every day is like this.
Sometimes I'd end up hitting myself, trying to think of something else. I'd bruise my face.
A battle.
Not for peace. Not for hope.
Just for the right to wake up again.
I don't even know what city I'm in anymore.
A vagrant, that's me.
Haruki.
...
...
...
Ayumi POV.
"Mom, onii-chan never came home last night...where is he?"
...
He couldn't have actually left far...right? I know that mom was serious, but he didn't have a place to go.
What if he went to the police? Wouldn't mom be arrested for neglect?
...
Then mom spoke back to me.
"T...this was on him...he needs to learn that what he had done was disgusting. I'm sure he's staying at a friends house or something." She said.
"He shouldn't come back until he learns it, that poor girl was a victim."
...
Harshness was in her voice.
But what if he wasn't at a friends or something...? What if...
...
"I know he's awful mom...but what if he wasn't at a friends house though? I mean...look outside."
It was absolutely pouring, storming all around Saitama.
The clouds were blackened and the rain had been coming down for an entire day.
"Don't worry about him so much, he'll come running back when he realizes how lucky he had it."
...
I listened to her, and went upstairs praying he'd come back soon, and I was tempted to text him. Yet...I decided against it.
...but he didn't come home...not for three whole days now.
His shoes are still by the door, his is toothbrush was still in the bathroom. Mom...didn't throw a single thing away. Maybe she thought he'd call out her bluff or something.
If she hated him, I mean really hated him, she would've tossed everything.
I felt disgusting, rotten inside for treating him like that. He needs help and therapy, and an environment to become better...not to be thrown out like this.
I wish I spoke up that day...
I...I couldn't think about what was going on inside his head right now, he was probably confused and scared...
Now the house feels wrong without him, his room's a mess, still half packed.
...
Clothes spilling from the drawer because my father forced him to pack impatiently.
He stood in the doorway with arms crossed while Haruki stuffed what little he owned into his school bag. Watching him leave the family.
I remember how he took his school bag, and just dumped the contents on the floor like it was nothing. The textbooks were soaked, and there was trash inside of it.
Was...he being bullied or something like that...?
I didn't know, but in my mind I thought to myself that...maybe he deserved it.
But thinking back on it, things started to seem odd, I remember him being nervous about going on that date with that girl. Why would he decide to assault her if he was asking his own sister for advice...?
...
I don't know...anymore.
...
Mom was trying to be as cruel as possible, because onii-chan's sin was awful. She was harsh, but maybe she thought she was doing the right thing.
...but...
I don't care about what she thought.
We...kicked him out...we made him feel like a monster instead of someone who needs help...
I made him think he was filth, on top of all the likely bullying happening at school. Then to top it off...we kicked him out of the house...
I was ready to forgive him as long as he showed some sort of regret.
Yet...I caught father beating on my brother a few times when mother wasn't looking.
I'm scared of him; he shouldn't have hit onii-chan like that.
...
She should regret kicking him out, I regret supporting my mother at the time, and allowing it to happen.
I just want my brother home.
I just want to know he's safe.
I want to know he's sorry.
I want him to know I'm sorry.
...
Where are you...Haruki?