Drip, drip, drip…
The sound of blood
Falling from his nose
And pattering softly
Against the white basin of the sink:
Explosions of intense red
Against a blinding white.

Breaths ragged and short,
Lungs burning,
As if iron bands
Are compressing his ribcage,
Crushing the air
From his chest
With each sob,
Each breath he takes.

Remembering the beating:
A crack against his jaw;
Stars bursting before him
And flooding his vision
With red and gold and orange.

Thoughts ringing through his mind:
My name is Takumi;
Taka, Taka Moore.
As he clutches the basin,
Feeling the steel cold
Biting deep into his flesh,
Razor sharp and icy.

Spinning,
Stumbling,
Falling through the air.
A punch to the stomach
Robs him of his breath,
Leaving him gasping for air,
Helpless,
Winded,
Stranded.

Why are they hurting me?
What do they want?
He is a freak,
A freak of nature –
Worthless, unloved, dirt.
I am worthless;
i am a freak.

He doesn’t want to catch a glimpse,
A glimpse of himself in the mirror
And into the grim portal of reality.
But he slowly lifts his head
And gaze to his reflection.

With his eyes,
He traces his uncontrollable black hair,
Sticking up in all places
No matter how much he wets it;
Then his eyes:
Slightly almond shaped,
Stormy and dark,
Filled with a never ending sadness –
Shimmering and brimming over with tears.
Cheeks shining with tears
As they fall
Silent and quick.

“Taka?”
A voice – Hayato’s.
There he stands in the doorway:
Light brown hair ruffled
His eyes, with the faintest almond shape,
Wide: shock, fear?
“Taka, what happened?”

Hayato…
Why did you have to walk in on me like this?
To see me
So beaten?
So defeated?

Silent,
Mute,
Taciturn.
He can only stare
As the tears fill Hayato’s eyes.
His face convulsing and contorting
As he fights back the sobs.

“Taka, who did this to you?”
Hayato:
So small yet so strong
With a fiery determination
To fight with love for his big brother.
His helpless big brother.

Clutching the basin
As if clinging for dear life.
Taka doubles over.
“No one,” he whispers,
Forcing his vocal chords to work.
Shame and humiliation
Burning his cheeks.
“No one that you know.”
He cannot let anyone
Hurt Hayato,
Lay a finger on him,
Not even a hair.
But not like this –
This fragile and pathetic form.

A hand on his shoulder -
Hayato’s hand –
His warmth and support.
“Why won’t you tell me?
Please, Taka, tell me.
Who were they?
Did you fight back?”

A shake of the head,
Violent and brief.
“No, Hayato,
If I did, I could face suspension,
Then all my dreams
Would be shattered in that one instant.”

A silence settles upon the two,
Blanketing them
And immersing them for a few moments,
Before it is finally shattered:
“Taka…”
Hayato’s voice, ringing in Taka’s ears.

“Hayato,” Taka’s voice:
Immediately slicing through Hayato’s words.
Blunt and cutting to his own ears.
Suddenly powerful,
Filled with a newfound determination.
“I have a favour to ask you.”

A sniff
And more tears falling.
Hayato nods his head.
Good.
Taka is glad.

“Please, Hayato…”
He can hear his voice breaking already,
Cracking in that fleeting moment.
His eyes wide,
He looks up,
Hands trembling
As the tears course down his cheeks.
And the emotions overwhelm him:
Agony, sadness, anger and desperation.
His body racking with sobs.
“Teach me to be normal!”