Tsugi had been sitting at his little wooden desk for hours, unable to eat, unable to do anything but flip the pages of his medicinal herbs book, gazing upon the pictures of plants and trying to make out each word in his head. Even as he tried to sound out each word – each letter, his lips mouthed the words, “I’m a boy, I’m strong. I’m a boy, I’m strong.” Like a mantra as though if only he said it enough, it will make it so.
And yet at the sound of heavy footsteps echoing from down the hall, approaching with a deep sense of looming dread that seemingly seeped through the cracks of the damp stone walls, made him quake at the knees. The words he so desiderated had vanished into thin air, into the shadows like they too understood the word, fear.
His eyes widened in trepidation before he bolted out of his chair, running to hide in the cupboard of his dresser like the damn coward that he was.
The single candle light in that dim room peaked through the cracks of the door, lighting up a discolored bruise on his arm. Even his blood stained shirt wasn’t given mercy to the single little light as if it were giving him away – as if it were screaming, “Here! Right here! I found the child!”
He dared peek a brave dark eye to the light as if telling it to shut up – to disappear into the darkness and hide him instead like the shadows that seem to caress his skin.
Then he clenched his eyes shut as hard as he could, putting his head between his bony knees and wrapped his arms around his head. His breath was fast and blood pounded past his ears as he prayed to himself to be anywhere else in the world right now but here. He didn’t want to be here – or rather he never wanted to be here in the first place.
He thought of the stars, the night sky. Perhaps he could hide amongst them and he will never be found in the millions of twinkling lights that decorated the deep blue high above. There within the shadows that embraced each star, perhaps they too would welcome him and envelop him, embrace him – hide him.
The candle light flickered when the door slammed open, shaking the whole room. A creeping chill crawled into the room like deaths’ searching hands – searching for him.
"Where are you, boy?!" The booming voice echoed, deliberately enunciating the word “boy” to send a chill through Tsugi’s body. But he dared not answer, only held his breath to slow his racing heart that he was sure the man could hear. Even from here he could smell the strong aroma of alcohol burning his nostrils.
He could do nothing but sit and pray to never be heard, pray to never be found as he listened. He could hear loud banging and clashing as the person moved through the room. Then all of the sudden, all noises ceased and a deathly silence fell upon him.
Even the wind that came creeping in seemed to have found somewhere else to blow instead. Or the steady drip of water from the walls had appeared to stop moving, like they too were holding their breaths.
Tsugi clenched his teeth and tried hard to control his racing heart for he knew what was coming next, knowing full well that the man could probably hear it. Hell, the man probably went quiet just to listen for it – listen for that racing thud of little Tsugi’s heart like a beating drum.
Heavy footsteps rushed toward him and the cupboard doors flew open. A giant hand reached in and dragged him out by his long midnight hair.
His mouth gaped, and he winced at the pain, "F-father please-"
But his cries were met with an open hand slamming across the side of his head, causing an ear-splitting ring that drowned out the beatings.
A warm liquid oozed from his ear, dripping down his neck.
A hard kick to the stomach sent him flying across the room and slammed into the wall with a loud crack. His body went rigid, so very rigid with the pain shooting through his little body. Everything hurt, it hurt so much. His mouth gaped open for air, but no oxygen entered his collapsed lung. Clutching to his body, he curled into a ball on the floor as wave after wave of punches and kicks were hurled toward him – relentless.
"What did I say about calling me father?!" He enunciated each word with a kick. "You are no child of mine!" He bellowed, swinging another fist into Tsugi's face. “Not with that weak stutter of yours! I do not have a weak child such as you!”
Please, make it stop.
Were the only words little Tsugi could think of as he pulled his arms and legs closer to his body as if they could shield him from the onslaught.
What had he done this time to deserve this beating? Was he reading too loud? Or did Sir Gorou just want to release his anger and frustration on him?
The sound of fists landing on bones cushioned with nothing but a thin layer of skin echoed down the hall, but no one came.
A castle filled with servants, and not a single soul made a move or even dared to flinch.
A dreary city full of towns folk, and not a single ear perked at the cries that came echoing through the wind like it was the only one to help carry his cries to any that would dare listen – but no one came.
Even the spider, sitting upon its spun web in the corner, no longer scurried at the vibrations traveling through the air. The rats that passed by, only pause to see if Tsugi will perish this time just so they can feast on his bones.
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After what felt like forever, his father let out a lungful of air – as though he could ever be exhausted, surely it must be boredom instead – and turned to leave.
Tsugi opened one swollen bloody eye and glanced at his fathers back – the back that he will never forget – the back that he prayed would turn and embrace him instead of with his fists.
But none of that would happen, not on this night and perhaps not any – not ever.
A slender old man dressed in dark blue robes stood outside the door, lowering his head as Sir Gorou stepped out.
"Leave the boy.” He hisses the word “boy” as if he was disgusted by Tsugi, as if to remind the world that he is nothing but a boy that will amount to nothing. Oh how that one little word could make Tsugi cringe. “If he dies, so be it. Lock the doors."
"As you wish my lord." The old man left a tray in the room and closed the door. With the audible click of the lock, little Tsugi gritted his teeth, slowly pushed his broken body off the floor, and painstakingly crawled to the tray.
From his lips and nose, dripped a steady trail of droplets like the blood red moon hanging over the night sky.
There, sitting upon the tray, was a small bowl of water, cloth, needle and thread. Even at the young age of three, he knew what to do from observing the healer's constant treatment, and tending the wounds on him over the years.
With one hand clutching his chest, the other grabbed the cloth and wrung it out in the bowl of freezing water to wipe the blood from his eyes. His trembling fingers reached over and grabbed a piece of hollow straw from his bed along with a piece of the broken mirror lying on the floor, and cut open his shirt.
His breathing was shallow and quick as it got harder and harder to breathe with every passing second.
He placed the bloody shirt in his mouth and slowly raised his left arm that was clutching his chest. He touched the sharp mirror to his side and with a swift movement, punctured right between his ribs under his armpit. His scream was muffled by the dirty shirt that smelled like sweat – definitely tasted like it along with dirt and dead skin cells that lingered on it, clung to it like he’d clung onto life itself, time and time again.
When was the last time he was able to wash his clothes? He couldn’t remember.
Beads of sweat dripped down his scrunched face as he fought the air to enter his lungs. He grabbed the hollow straw and placed it into the incision, allowing the air to escape with a hissing and whistling sound. He spat the shirt out of his mouth and gasped as the air pressure released and he could finally breathe less painfully.
Slowly, little by little, he stitched and wiped blood away until the wick went out.
He collapsed on the cold hard floor and stared out the window to the stars and the bright full moon that lit the night sky. He placed his small hand on his chest and closed his eyes as tears started to stream down his temples, his body so very weary.
Why didn’t his father just kill him if he was so weak and useless? Why even keep him alive?
It's okay.
He would tell himself. If no one will save him, he will just have to do it himself. It’s either that or he should just end his life this instant. At least then he will never have to endure this anymore.
A bubble of mirth began to rise from his throat, making him wonder what this odd sound was that was emerging from him as he winced with each shake of laughter. Never had he even smiled in his life, let alone managed a laugh.
Even as he thought of slicing his throat right there with the glass still in his grasp, for some reason he just knew his father would find a way to revive him and kill him again.
Oh what a joke that would surely be.
When the pain on his body started to subside, he pushed himself off the floor and looked around. His books and straw bed were scattered across the cold stone floor. He sighs. To be so young and yet be forced to grow up so quickly as though he would only live a few years like the giants he’s read about from his books.
Bruised and aching, he cleaned up the mess and laid upon the pile of straw that is his bed. Exhaustion quickly took over and sleep found him, dragging him beneath its depths.
***
"Master Tsugi…Master Tsugi?" A small voice whispered. Tsugi slowly opened his eyes, and saw a girl kneeling next to him. "You're burning up Master Tsugi, please drink some of this." Tsugi was drenched in sweat and shivering like he was stuck in a snowstorm.
The girl handed him a bowl of bitter herbs. The smell burned his nostrils but his thirst took over since he was fevering all night. He grabbed the bowl and gulped it down without a second thought.
"It's not much, but I brought you some bread." Not realizing how hungry he was, he grabbed the small piece of bread and engulfed it. The bread was very stale and it tasted funny, but it was very satisfying nonetheless. "I have to go now, Master Tsugi." She whispered, and hurriedly grabbed the bowls, before rushing to the door.
"Th-thank you." He said quietly. She stopped by the door, turned around and smiled at him, tilting her head to one side. Her long silver hair glistened in the moon light peeking through the window. Her eyes were soft and filled with innocence, just as her smile was warm and comforting. She quietly shut the door behind her and her footsteps began to fade away.
Tsugi was still shivering, but he felt an odd sort of warmth rising from his chest. He quickly rolled over and hurled everything back out onto the floor. The bitter tonic and chunks of bread came back out mixed with this taste of iron in his mouth.
He retched and retched till nothing came out and then continued to dry heave some more till he fell unconscious only to wake again, barely having even the strength to lift his body to heave some more.
His nose stung and tears filled his eyes with snot streaming down his nose. When his stomach finally calmed and he could barely open his eyes, he wiped his face with the dirty sleeve of his shirt and looked at the bloody vomit.
His stomach still felt queasy which he figured he had internal damage. Which would explain why he couldn't hold anything down. He felt nauseated, but his stomach was now empty again – and he was too hungry.
So he reached into the pile of bile liquid and picked out the chunks of soaked bread. Without any hesitation, he shoved them back into his mouth, forcing himself to swallow it, only to spew it back up shortly after. It continued all through the night till fatigue won him over and he fell into a deep slumber.