Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The pub was crowded with roaring men and laughing women, everyone coming together for a reunion. Kids were running through the small crowds as music blasted and some football game was on on the big telly in the corner, old men gathering around it like churchgoers to a pastor. König was in the corner, sitting on a roughed-up, red leather booth. There was an unsettled feeling in his stomach. 

The air was too hot in here. The collective body heat made the wind go stale, and not even opening the window near his head could solve it. 

He was holding a glass holder on its point, so it was held up like a diamond. He was slowly twisting it to keep himself entertained, or rather, distracted from the drunken clambering that briskly grabbed the pub in a chokehold. He wondered how long it would take for his mother to remember she dragged her kid to this place. It had gotten dark hours ago, he couldn’t even imagine what time it was now. 

His mother dragged him out for the sole reason being: “to have fun!”. König was not having fun. He’d rather be anywhere but here right now. The stench of alcoholic breath was starting to get to him despite being here for ages. 

He knew how these nights would end up going. He’ll have to walk home by himself and wait until the jumbling of keys interrupted his thoughts, and then finally, he could go to sleep. The streets weren’t safe, especially for a kid of his age. Luckily enough, he wasn’t at the height for a kid his age, so usually, he gets voided by the tricky people that the streets are supposedly run by. He wasn’t a strong-looking boy by any means, so he didn’t know what was stopping them from mugging him in the dead of night. 

He spotted his mother’s head of blonde hair in the middle of the crowd. Her rushed, exaggerated makeup was a mess, and she was laughing and holding onto people. 

She was having fun, and this was probably the only time she’s been able to have fun all week.

She works multiple part-time jobs all over the area to make ends meet. König had offered to help, but not many people would take in 5’9 twelve-year-olds, even with his ability to reach high shelves for customers. He remembered visiting her on her shift at the restaurant in the more prosperous part of town. She had looked rundown, her eyes ringed dark with hurriedly wiped mascara after tears had made their way down her face. She later said that there was this particular mean older man, in her words, that had said some mean things to her. He couldn’t explain the feeling that stirred in his gut after hearing that, and he wished he dared to help her stand up to people like that. But he couldn’t even do it himself. 

König didn’t want to ruin things for his mother, but the stickiness of the table was seeping into the skin of his arms, the shaking of his leg was making the table wobbly, and everything was too bright, it felt like he was in a microwave. He sat up, his back clicking from the slouching position he’s been in for the past hour, and looked for his mother again. 

It took him three minutes to get up, he counted, perfecting the route he’d have to go to reach her. She was at the bar again, holding a rather big glass of beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. König clenched his jaw and stood, slipping through the booth and trying his best not to push past people. It was inevitable, however, because people didn’t know the meaning of excuse me when it was said to them. He had to push them, his hands touching far too many sweaty bodies, and it made him want to puke and shudder. 

He tapped his mother on the shoulder, and she turned around with a wide smile on her face, blood-red lipstick staining a few of her teeth.

“Kökö!” she exclaimed happily, putting her glass down and dragging him into a hug. He cringed but raised one of his arms to hug her back half-heartedly. The man she was talking to looked displeased with being interrupted, but it quickly dissolved when he looked at König. 

“Henri, this is König, my boy,” she introduced him, her breath warm and disgustingly sour against his cheek. König did his best not to cringe too openly. 

“He’s… tall, isn’t he?” The man, Henri, said, glancing him up and down. König nodded slightly at him, feeling like his skin was just taken off and his insides were being inspected, but he didn’t bring it up. He turned back to his mother.

“Keys?” he muttered in her ear so she could hear. She hummed as if reminded of something and brightened up. She dug through her pockets and then produced a singular key, no keychain or nothing, not even the one König got her on her birthday. He tried not to be bitter about it, and took the key from her, smiling slightly as a thank you. She brought him back in and kissed his cheek. This time, König openly grimaced as he wiped the lipstick off, ignoring his mother’s cackle.

“Oh, you. Go on then. I’ll be home soon, alright, kid?” 

König nodded and wandered off in between the crowds, towards the large door. He heard his mother continuing to talk to Henri, her obnoxious yet familiar laughter echoing in his ears. He focused on her happiness rather than the clammy people surrounding him. 

He finally pushed through to the door and opened it. Nothing could have prepared him for the vicious cold that immediately met him. He shivered. It had been warm when they left, so he opted not to take a jacket with him, but now he was regretting it. He stuffed the key in his pocket and rubbed his arms, feeling the goosebumps on his skin. He pressed his warm hands on his bare biceps and passed the shops lining the walls. There was a bookshop, tailors, a cafeーthe only place with the lights onー, an electronics shop, and a corner store. 

Just as he walked by the corner shop, the sky rumbled and opened with a sheet of rain. The drops echoed in the empty streets. König sighed, a white blow of air leaving past his lips and into the cold winds. He hurried his pace up, ignoring how his long, dark hair stuck to his skin as the rain soaked him. It stuck around his neck and tickled uncomfortably. He grimaced and moved it away from his neck.

The street lights flickered above him. The yellow glow that omitted from them barely lit up the street, but it was good enough. König had walked these streets enough times to know where he was going.

By the time he got to the apartment block, he was soaked down to the bone and shivering so badly his teeth chattering together. The building was decaying, the bricks dark and old, with the windows covered by rotten curtains from the inside, some with ripped holes. 

The wind was sharp in his ears and the raindrops weren’t letting up any time soon, so he stepped inside. The door closed with a soul-wrenching, echoing creak. He signed in with the spare pen with his shaky hand, his writing god-awful, but somewhat readable. He glanced around for a clock, hearing a slight ticking noise, but not seeing any. He sighed and put down an estimated time. The paper was surprisingly soft under his fingertips.

The stairs rasped underneath his weight, weak and pliable. Railings were rough and chipped, with scratches and numerous amounts of dents from stairway fights and drunkards, like his mother. 

He thought about the apartment that awaited him. It wasn’t much, that was for sure, but it was home. Sometimes it didn’t feel like home when his mother had someone over and forgot she had a child completely, but then there were other times when she made him come out of his room to watch a Christmas movie with her in the middle of June. 

The key jingled as he opened the door. Thankfully, there was no creak, no noise rather until he heard the telltale sound of Franz dashing from his bed to greet him. The small dog, a Jack Russell Terrier who had more bark than bite, jumped up König. The dog had patches of brown fur all over him, mixed in with ageing greys. The boy in question grinned.

“Heya boy, I know it’s been so lonely up here by yourselfー justー let me get in,” he laughed, holding both of Franz’s paws in one hand as he closed the door with the other. He sat down on the ground then, letting Franz jump all over him, sniffing the new scents. Franz sneezed at the smell of alcohol. Neither of them was a big fan of that smell. König smiled slightly, cupping the dog's head in his hands carefully and scratching the back of his ears. The fur was coarse and dirty, but it was Franz, and that was enough for König. 

He brought the excitable dog into a hug. Franz, knowing his owner by now just let it happen, sitting down and wagging his tail. König was still soaked, dripping onto the wooden floorboards as time slowly went by. He sighed, the tension slowly seeping out of him. 

Franz eventually snuffed and wiggled, obviously wanting to get out of the position. König let him, sniffling quietly and smiling at the dog.

“Sorry, sorry,” König rubbed behind his ears again and then stood up slowly, using the door as support. He had a headache, and the smell of alcohol still drenched him terribly. Morbidly enough, it made him want to rip off his skin and put it in the wash or buy a new set altogether. He shivered and shuddered, his shirt sticking to him and making him cringe. He wondered if they still had hot water for the week. He hoped so, but he didn’t want to get his hopes too high. He’ll just have to see.

König made his way into his bedroom. His bedroom was the smallest of the lot and a mess. His mother had mentioned it, saying it looked terrible, but it was fine. It was disorganized to a normal person’s eye, but to König, everything was where it was supposed to be. He opened the closet and picked out some dry clothes. Whether there was hot water or not he was going to have a shower. 

The shower was quick and cold. As he expected, there was no hot water, so he had to make do with what he got. He scrubbed the smell of alcohol off of him feverishly, his skin a bright red after he got out. He didn’t bother drying his hair before getting into bed.

He woke up to the sound of a key jingling. It was still dark outside, so it hadn’t been very long since he fell asleep. He sighed at the sound of giggles, and his mother walking around loudly, her heels clambering against the floorboards. Then there was a soft thump. Her bedroom door didn’t open, so he knew she passed out on the sofa. He supposed he’ll have to deal with that when he woke up.

He couldn’t go back to sleep, not fully, at least. He fell asleep, then woke up, fell asleep and woke up, a cycle doomed to repeat until morning came. 

The sun was beginning to come back when he came to once more. He figured there was no point in trying again, despite how heavy and tired his body felt. It was a Monday, and he couldn’t skip school. 

König pulled himself out of bed, his eyes barely being able to stay open let alone concentrate on getting ready for school. He had a few hours from what he could see from the clock on his wall, reading 6:32 am. He could take all the time he wanted. 

The boy moved through his closet sluggishly. He didn’t have much choice, not many clothes for his age fit his height, so all he had was hoodies and loose trousers. He didn’t mind, he even liked the discreet choices he had. All of the hoodies were greyscale, mostly on the darker side, which König further appreciated. He picked one at random, a light grey one with broken drawstrings and a faded band logo on it, so faded you couldn’t see the name, but just enough to see the design.

He shrugged it on and put on some normal-feeling jeans. He had to get adult men's jeans, but he found that he didn’t mind all too much. 

He wandered into the bathroom, dragging his feet. The entire house was freezing, it felt like his fingers were about to fall off. Before he left for school, he’ll have to find his pair of gloves. 

Birds chirped their angelic chorus outside the windows, the sun filtering in between the shaggy curtains, bathing the apartment with light. There was a light chatter going on outside, too, with the occasional beeps of several different cars. The city was waking up with the sun.

König was reluctant to look at himself in the mirror, but eventually, he had to take a glance as he was brushing his teeth. He picked out the flaws on his face out of habit.

His face was pudgy, still clinging onto the baby fat, and yet his entire body was lanky. His eyes were light blue, and a stark contrast to the brown hair that framed his face in waves and loose curls. His face held onto his father's natural tan, which was the one thing he was grateful for. He had a feeling that if he had his mother's paleness, he’d look like a dead boy. He had bags, heavy and dark underneath his eyes. His lips were chapped and bitten open in the corners. He looked terrible, just like yesterday, and the day before that, and then the day before that. A cycle he couldn’t be bothered to break, not just yet. 

He brushed his teeth and washed his face, trying to get rid of the sleepiness that still tugged him down. After he was done he rubbed his face, pulling the muscles in a lazy attempt to wake himself up.

His mother was still passed out on the sofa, her legs dangling off of the armrest and her body contorted in a way that couldn’t be comfortable. She had work soon, around the same time he’ll have to go to school, so he’ll wake her up then. He glanced at the kitchen, a barren place, and wondered if he should try for breakfast. Usually, he didn’t want breakfast, his body was used to waking up late for school and not having enough time for it, but now his stomach was rumbling quietly. 

He passed his mother and saw Franz behind the sofa, curled up and sleeping happily. He hummed quietly and reached down, petting the dog softly behind the ears. Franz huffed, adjusting his position, and went back to sleep. König didn’t mind and continued on his way to the kitchen. Franz was an old boy, after all, sleep was beginning to be the only thing he does lately. König crushed down the sadness that brewed up, thinking about the close future. 

He shuffled through the cupboards, searching for some sort of breakfast food. Nothing much was brought up except a day-old bag of Seitenbacher. He didn’t particularly like the brand, and he was willing to go hungry this morning to avoid it. 

He closed the cupboard door, the creak echoing quietly. He looked around as he tried to find something else to do until 07:45 struck, tapping his restless fingers against the coarse texture of his jeans. He clicked his tongue and settled for trying to do some last-minute homework he knew he had in his bag. Now, he just had to overcome the mystery of where it was.

It must be somewhere in his room. He didn’t go anywhere else without it. 

He got his bag and set it down on the dining table, searching for the sheets of Maths and English Language work he had to do. It was too early in the morning to be thinking and writing in a different language, but it had to be done. His school was strict when it came to homework. He pulled both sheets out and rummaged through his bag for a pen.

Instead, he found a cloth with his blood on it. 

König clenched his jaw and threw it in the bin as his arms had phantom pains striking it. 

He grabbed the pen finally, ignoring the slight trembling of his fingers as he sat down. He let himself be lost in the question sheets for some time, finding it surprisingly easy. Maths was something he’s always been able to do effortlessly. It made him the butt of many jokes but kept his grades up. 

Now and then, he stole a look at the clock. He didn’t have to wait long until the hand hit 07:00, and then 07:15, and then 07:30 at last. He just finished his English homework, stuffing it all back into his bag. König put his coat on, a thin, hand-me-down jacket from his father, but kept the warmth in the colder months, and then slung his bag over his shoulder. He had learnt by now to keep one strap on, not both. It made it too easy to pull him back. He toed on his shoes and did the laces up delicately. The fabric was barely holding on, but thankfully it still worked.

He shook his mother when he was ready. He looked towards the clock. 7:38. He huffed quietly and shook his mother again.

“Mama,” he called to her. She made a grunt in response, smacking his hand away. He wanted to let her sleep in, but the anxiety of being late to the first lesson, and having to walk in late with all the eyes on him didn’t settle well in his stomach.

“ Mama, you have to get up, you’ll be late for work.”

He knew she couldn’t afford another late shift. Her pay had been docked the previous week after a… difference of opinion with a customer. She groaned quietly and nodded, but didn’t make a move to get up. He looked at the time again, 07:41. His stomach quivered with an unknown fear, shaking her again.

“Get up,” he said firmly. He felt cold despite the multiple layers he had on. She huffed and opened her eyes finally. Her frigid blue look stared back at him. She was never a morning person, but this time, neither was he.

“You have to get up. You have 20 minutes to get ready and be there,” he warned, forcing his tone to be softer. She sighed and nodded once more, slowly sitting up. König nodded back in response, thankful that she finally listened to him. He hurried back to his bedroom to get his gloves and put them on, rubbing his hands together to install warmth into his fingers. 

“Kid, before you go,” his mother called once more, forcing his attention on her. She handed him a 20 euros note. “Go shopping after school, yeah? There’s a note on the side counter of the things we need’a get. We’ve don’t got enough in.”

He nodded slightly, taking the bills and the note, his mind already filling with future conversations. How’d they go, what he’d say, and planned a mental route that let him get the products as quickly as possible? He nodded again, picked up the key on the tray next to the door and left.

König looked over the list. The basic things: milk, bread, eggs, beer, dog food, and potatoes. König wasn’t the one to do shopping most of the time, which plagued him with guilt, but he couldn’t help the heavy feeling in his stomach when he thought of the many, many things that could go wrong with it. He could give in the wrong amount of money, he could drop the change, hold up the line, could stutter or just not talk at all, or be perceived as rude. He distracted himself by looking at his mother’s handwriting as he left the apartment block, and began to walk down the street.

Her handwriting was loopy and in cursive, not illegible. He wondered when she had written this. Probably many days ago, and got too busy to get it done. He pocketed the note and pulled his hood up to protect his ears against the sharp wind, stuffing his hands into his pockets as well. It crunched the money and the list but he didn’t mind it, he had already committed the list to memory. 

He was late. Late. His hands shook as he walked to his class, the halls empty as ever spare a few kids walking about on errands for their teachers. He had Biology first thing and already could feel the eyes on him. He wondered what the teacher would do if he decided to skip the lesson. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time someone had done it to her.

The teacher was kind enough, at least. It wasn’t her he was worried about. His class was a loud bunch of children, far too immature and far too mean. The worst of them was a group of boys that spent their time mocking the nice teachers and making fun of the quieter kids. 

The door seemed larger than it normally is, which was near impossible. He was a tall kid, taller than most of the teachers he came across and certainly all the kids in his class, save for a few of them that just barely reaches his face in height. The window had a criss-cross design on them and was covered by a light grey curtain. He could hear the noise from inside, too. Shouts and yells.

König gulped quietly, pushing down his fear and just resolved to open the door. The noise didn’t let up. He saw Mrs Mayer trying to calm everyone down to pay attention to the board. The class was fairly large, with desks in twos, and lined up in three rows. He sat near the front, thankfully, close to the teacher's desk. His desk was left abandoned, and his so-called ‘partner’ is one of the popular boys who always left him. He was grateful for it. 

He took his red book and sat down, putting his bag on the chair next to him and shrugging off his coat, pulling his hood down. His school was strict on the hoods, too, but that rarely stopped him. They just let him have the hoodie on, seeing as his mother explained it was the only thing they could afford that fit him. 

They were learning about blood circulation, the veins and the heart, and all the gross and morbid things that follow it, such as how easily you could bleed out if an artery or some other major blood vessel was hit. It was interesting stuff, but he had a feeling the class had been on this specific topic for a while now. Mayer didn’t even notice him come in. He didn’t know whether to feel bitter or glad. 

There was so much noise in the room. His leg bounced up and down hurriedly. He looked around subtly and reached for a textbook on Mayer’s desk. He opened the book to the blood circulation page and began to write down all the notes needed in his book, seeing as they weren’t going to move on anytime soon.

He occupied himself with this for the last 20 minutes of the class. If there was one thing he was appreciative of was the short classes. 

This was routine. All day, every day, every week, he found that teaching himself was much easier than being taught. If he had any questions, he’d go into the local library and search for the answers himself. He aced most of the tests and exams. This was how he wanted to go until the end of the school year. Fly by, go unnoticed, get into a good school and get himself a good job. He thought about a family and then thought of his mother and father. Something was telling him that he’d be doomed to have the same fate as them, so he never wanted to go near that thought again.

By the end of the day, tension was high in his shoulders. He had dropped off his English homework. The Englishman had patted him on the back, smiling at him after saying “Well done” once the older man had checked through the answers. Most were right, and König was giddy from the compliment that it kept him in a good mood until the end of the day. The thought of going shopping had come back to him when he put his hands in his pockets, feeling the notes and list once more. A wave of unfortunate dread washed over him, his heart pacing in a sudden attempt to clear his mind. It certainly didn’t work. 

He began to walk to the store. There was a corner shop near his school. He tried to force the tension out of his shoulders, standing up straight and hearing the bones crack and pop in his spine. He grimaced at the little pain it brought him and rolled his shoulders, loosening his muscles. He had read somewhere that movement eventually warmed them up, and it worked. His breath was visible, the white clouds fogging up his vision. 

Unease clawed at his stomach, like a creature tearing at its soft cage. The shop shouldn’t be busy, so maybe he could get a little something for himself. The list didn’t seem that expensive, and he does have a note of 20. Maybe just a little bag of chocolates. Surely his mother wouldn’t mind that. He sighed quietly as he finally got to the neon light of the corner store. The walls were windows, and he looked into the shop uncertainly. He clenched his jaw in anticipation and forced himself to go into the store, the door ringing with a bell. Inside was brighter and had many isles filled with groceries and a rack of snacks, bags of sweets and such. 

He had already done the maths in his head. He knew what the original prices amounted to, and how much change he’d have to get a chocolate bar. He’d have enough, but the bar would be too expensive for his mother not to notice the dent in the change. He supposed he could snap the bar in half and share.

In the end, he didn’t get the chocolate bar. He ignored how enticing the wrapper looked. It was rare they had enough money for any change. He shouldn’t waste it on something so trivial. He walked out of there with a bag in his hand and his heart in his throat, his hands trembling slightly, though it could be blamed on how could it be. The sun was setting behind the many tall buildings, reflecting off of the windows. The pavement below him was chipped and had grass growing in between the cracks. Out of habit, he avoided the cracks. The streets were quickly blanketed with the night.

König clenched his jaw and hurried his pace. He never did like the dark.

The dark didn’t like him, either.

He set the bags on the kitchen counter. He looked around the desolate kitchen. König began to unpack the shopping as the rain started. It was harsh and merciless as it pattered against the windows in thick sheets. He thought about his mother, and how she has to walk home in that. He hoped it’d stop by thenーwhenever then was. Her shifts were irregular, and her bosses like to play on her desperateness, making her wait, and then unload a double shift on her. It stressed her out to no end, but she continuously tells him that she needs these jobs, their lives would be on a thread otherwise. König resolved to believe it.

That’s why he lies to her about school. She didn’t have to know about the bruises and scars that lay underneath his clothes and burned into his skin like tattoos. He couldn’t worry her with that, not anymore, since he did plenty of that already. His introverted personality concerns her. She tells him that she doesn’t want her son to grow up to be a socially-inept coward. She meant it as a joke, but it hurt. He expected her to understand him half-heartedly. He also couldn’t blame her. He had been working on his act for years. He just wished that sometimes his mother would see right through him, right through the facade he’s been hiding behind ever since his first growth spurt, and hold him. God, he wished she’d just hold him.

She was exhausted by the time she got home, which was nearing midnight. She had to do a double shift tonight and practically collapsed onto the sofa, still in her waitress uniform. König had just finished washing the dishes, drying his hands on a rag as he walked into the living room, Franz prancing behind him happily. The dog had already been fed, so he had no idea why he was so excited. He double-checked the door.

She peeped open an eye and sighed quietly, “Shouldn’t be up,” she muttered, sleep-tracing her words delicately. He shrugged and fidgeted with his fingers.

“Hungry?” he asked instead of answering. 

“Suppose I could eat,” she said with a long-suffering sigh. König nodded. He decided to make her something simple and quick. It wasn’t dinner-worthy, nor did it actually look good, but quite well for a 12-year-old. 

She ate it down quickly with a lot more energy than before. When she was done, she made him lean down and kissed him lovingly on the cheek.

“Thank you, Kökö,” she ruffled his hair despite his protests, “you go on to the bed, now. You have school in the morning.”

König sighed quietly and went into his room At the sight of his cold bed he felt his limbs grow heavy suddenly, feeling the tiredness seep back into his bones. He was out like a light before he even reached the bed.

The days continued like that, all up to Thursday when those boys found him again. They were in the year above and they all made it their goal to torment him. He didn’t know what he did to deserve it, because if he did, he would’ve apologised and begged for forgiveness a million times by now. 

Their hands were rough as they dragged him into an alleyway on his way back home. His head hit the uneven bricks sharply, and all he heard for a few seconds was a high-pitched ringing. He winced, acknowledging the fact that the boy一Emil, he reminds himself一had his fists clenched in his hoodie, his fierce face close up, close enough to smell his breath and feel it on his face. König resisted the urge to grimace. The alleyway was dark and had a sour smell, dingy and stinging König’s eyes and throat.

“Where is it?” The boy spat. His eyes were two endless, dark pits, and König found himself unable to make proper eye contact. König’s breath stuttered as he was shoved further into the wall.

“ Where is it?” Emil snapped, demanding. 

The question finally registered in his head. Where was what?

“Huh?” he said stupidly, still stunned from the hit to the head. Emil scoffed. Suddenly hands were grabbing at anything they could get ahold of, his head, hair, bag一dragging him further into the darkness一there was a hand covering his mouth, muffling any noise一pulling and shoving him onto the ground.

His body hit the wet concrete with a thud and a grunt, the wind being knocked out of him. 

He couldn’t stop the onslaught of pain after. Punches and kicks rain down on him. Sharp agony lit up all over his body like a minefield, he tried to curl up to protect himself but hands grabbed at him and kept him exposed. 

The pain didn’t stop for ages. Not until there was a hot white ignition, like an explosion, bursting at the back of his head. The world went in an agonizing black.

Blood mixed in with tears and droplets of rain, mingling and drying in his hair. He was soaked to the bone and freezing. Blood ran down the sides of his cheeks from where he bit his tongue at some point. He didn’t know how long it started to rain, but he knew it's been a little bit, at least. From what he could see without lifting his head, he was deep within the alleyway, obscured by the dark. 

The metallic taste became too much to bear. He very slowly lifted himself with a groan. He spat the blood out. His head was pounding. All of his weight fell onto his shoulder, which shuddered with trying to keep him up. His hair hung loosely around his vision, dripping with blood and already clumping together with dried blood. Pain radiated hotly in his veins. He could feel his consciousness slipping once more, but he kept himself up with his other hand. His wrists were bruised like they were sprained. They felt like it too. 

As he tried to sit up, a groan left him hoarsely, his vision whiting out for a moment before he found himself face down on the floor. He coughed, the noise catching in his throat. He couldn’t find the energy to pick himself up again, so he sagged against the ground as he coughed. The mere thought of getting up exhausted him. König had to get home soon or he’ll have to face his mother's consequences. He caught his breath for a few seconds before scrunching his eyes shut, forcing his hands underneath his body and picking himself up despite the pain that shot through his wrist. 

In a second, his entire body ran hot with pain, sharp and brutal enough that it forced another guttural groan out of him. 

He looked around. He tried to gather his surroundings. His bag was scattered, books and pens all over the ground. He breathed heavily, the rain coming down harshly on him as his mind registered everything. He’d have to get up eventually. He couldn’t stay here. The ground wasn’t comfortable and neither were the bloody and rain-soaked clothes he had on. He was close to the wall, so he reached up and grabbed onto one of the jagged bricks. The texture dug into his palm as he gripped it hard to bring himself up into a staggering standing position.

He groaned again, drooping against the wall as he caught his breath once more. He closed his eyes again against the flash of pain. His grip was deathly on the brick, his nails digging into it disgustingly. He couldn’t let go, not yet. 

The pain subsided slowly, and he found himself looking back at the bag. One of the straps was ripped off and the other was damn nearing it. Half of it was covered in mud and from what he could see, his blood. He’s had that bag since Year 8. He remembered when his mother took him to the shop in the middle of summer and told him to pick any bag he wanted because she recently got paid. The sage green bag had called to him.

A wave of loss swept over him, grief and guilt he shouldn’t have to feel. König could feel the muscles in his face twitching, as if he was about to cry, and forced it away with deep breaths. It hurt to breathe, he might have a cracked or bruised rib or two. He stood up straight and groaned quietly as his back clicked, his clothes sticking to him. 

He looked down at the hoodie he was wearing. Another light grey one, even though it might as well be dark grey after hours in the rain. The collar and sleeve cuffs were bloody. He huffed softly and staggered a step, wincing as it jostled a pulled muscle somewhere in his legs. He pushed through it and stepped over the bag, his stomach clenching in anxiety as he neared the entrance of the alleyway. People should still be walking around at this time. Though maybe not in this weather. König pursed his lips and stepped out into the open street, still using the brick walls to help him along the way.

He was home after a painstakingly long two hours. Usually, it took him 30 minutes to get from school to home. The stairs had proven themselves to be rather difficult to get up, so he spent an hour putting one foot in front of the other, continuing that for many, many, many steps of stairs. Now, he was home. 

It wasn’t warm inside, but it was warm er than it was outside. Franz came galloping to him happily, his claws tapping against the floors, jumping up him and licking at his hands. König lowered him back down with a few scratches behind the ears.

There was a faint, musical hum from the kitchen.

Shit, what time was it? 

“König! Is that youー?” his mother wandered into the living room and then gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She was wearing an apron and her blonde hair was tied up in a loose bun at her neck. Her blue eyes were wide with fear and shock, and then she was bounding to him, her warm hands cupping his face.

“Oh my God, dear, what happened to you?” she said softly, her thumbs tracing the bruises along his eyes tenderly. König teared up, his nose twitching as he looked down at her. This close-up, he could see all the stress-caused wrinkles and her greying hairs at her roots. Her eyes held a gentle warmth and it made him want to crumble.

“Kökö, tell me what happened to you, darling.” she pressed, her hands still holding his face. He wanted to sag into her, hug her and let himself be hugged. This was the first time she’s seen him like this. This is what he wanted, right? This is what he yearned for. 

König opened his mouth and nothing came out for a few seconds, his voice hoarse and cracky.

“Just some kids, mama,” he explained. She furrowed her eyebrows upwards and her breath stuttered. Tears filled her eyes to match König’s. He supposed he got her emotions from her. Her lips fell open, the bottom one trembling.

“How long has this been going on?” she asked hesitantly as if she didn’t want to know the answer. König wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her.

“Just a few weeks, nothing to worry ‘bout. I’ve been handling it,” he lied through his teeth. 

She held his eyes for a few more seconds before she sighed.

“Well, let’s get you cleaned up, alright?” she let her hands slip from his face and into his good hand, tugging him along to the bathroom. There, she got the first aid kit from the mirror cabinet and ordered him to sit on the closed toilet. He did as he was told and waited patiently.

“Where’ve you been hurt, kid? Any other injuries I need to know about?” she asked gently, putting her hand on his knee and rubbing comforting circles. König managed a shake of his head, and then a slight nod. 

“I think they bruised my ribs,” König supplied helpfully, “and my wrist. It hurts a lot but I don’t know what’s wrong with it.”

She put the kit down on his lap and softly grabbed his bad wrist, pulling the sleeve up and lightly prodding at it. He winced harshly, pulling his hand away.

“Darling, I’m just checking. Can you move your fingers?” she made a grabbing motion with her hand for him to copy. He did so, pain burning everywhere down to his elbow. He groaned quietly in pain, shaking his head.

“I can but it hurts, mama,” he whispered hoarsely. She hummed soothingly, nodding, rubbing his knee again. She stood up.

“I’m going to get ice for your wrist, okay? I’ll be back,” she ran her hand through his hair and ruffled it. She came back in record time holding frozen peas in her hand and a rag in the other. “We don’t have ice, so we have peas,” she said mournfully, getting comfortable on the floor. She wrapped the peas in the rag and placed it against his wrist. It hurt but then it soothed the pain.

“Keep it here,” she ordered gently. He did as he was told and then, she began to soothe all of the other pains, cleaning and putting balms on his bruises and picking the small pieces of glass out of his skin. The ground was a dirty place after all. It took her 30 minutes to administer all of the aid. She hugged him carefully when she was done, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“You’re okay, baby. You tell me if it happens again, okay? Please, tell me,” she begged.

König nodded.

-

He didn’t tell her the next time.

In his defence, she wasn’t there. She was at work. He had come stumbling through the door so hard Franz thought there was an intruder. He had tried to run away this time, but it didn’t matter because they were faster than him. They were faster, and they ran him down the street like predators to prey. 

His stomach churned as he thought about it. How he heard their footsteps and laughter echoing. They were hunting him for sport, it felt like. They had caught him at some point, halfway home, and dragged him down. He fought that time, too. Got a few good punches in there but that didn’t matter either. They beat him bloody, but not bloody enough that he couldn’t get his legs to work. 

He sprinted with all his remaining energy, not stumbling once, not until he heard their footsteps getting further and further away until they stopped completely. He was at his apartment block by then, barely being able to sign in before he ran up the stairs. As soon as he saw his door he felt like collapsing, all of his vigour leaving him in seconds. The keys rattled as his hands shook, his face was burning and his legs felt itchy and annoyingly hot. He shouldn't have run in jeans but he didn’t have a choice otherwise.

He didn’t have a choice.

He gulped heavily as the door finally let him in. Franz barked and jumped on him, obviously waiting at the door.

“It’sー it’s me, Franz! It’s me,” he breathed hoarsely as he closed the door, sliding down it to sit with his legs spread wide in front of him as he caught his breath. He wasn’t an unfit kid by any means, but sprinting for 15 minutes straight took a number out of him, wow. Franz settled in between his legs when he realised who he was and waited patiently.

König gulped again as he brought a shaky hand up to Franz’s head. He ran his hand down Franz’s head slowly and stiffly, energy slowly leaving him. He could feel sleep grabbing at him. He shook his head and tried to stand up, using the door as leverage. He practically threw his shoes and coat off, stunned by the cold floors and air. He shivered, grateful that it brought the heat in his body down. He went to the kitchen and got some water, hoping the coldness would make the anxiety flow out of his veins. It didn’t.

Of course, it didn’t.

It was always there, a nagging feeling. He’d never be able to get rid of it.

He scrunched his eyes at the headache brewing behind them. He downed the rest of his water and shut all the lights off, bathing the apartment in darkness. He stumbled to his bedroom like a drunkard, collapsing in his bed, out like a light.

-

Despite his opposition, König yearned for a friend. He has never had one before and didn't know how to act in a friendship. He'll probably never have one. He'll be destined to live alone, far away from anyone he knew. 

Everyone knew him, but no one knew what it was like to know him.

No one made an effort. No one. 

Whilst on the playground as he neared the end-of-year exams at age 15, he was sitting by himself, reading a medical book. He was on chapter something, but it had pages on how to treat a bullet wound, at a hospital and home. He doesn’t think he’ll ever have to use it, but it was worth knowing. 

It was a nice day but he still had his hood up, obscuring the new bruises. His bullies had grown up and left the school, but that doesn’t mean bullies stopped altogether. The boys in his class got rowdy and took his silence as a sign of hate, and now he was a target daily. He didn’t want to let it bother him but it does. It bothers him so much he could barely explain. 

It was hot underneath the hoodie, but he didn’t dare drag his sleeves up. It wouldn’t be worth it. Nothing is worth it anymore, he keeps realising. He keeps throwing himself down those thought spirals, and it never did him any good. 

As he was lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice a girl walking up to him. She tapped gently on the top of his book. He looked up at her questioningly. 

He’s seen her before. He thinks her name is Stefanie, but he wasn’t too sure. She was pretty, with brown hair that reached her shoulders and a kind face. She had quite a big smile on her face. He couldn’t tell if the smile was malicious or genuinely kind. He always had trouble figuring those out.

She didn’t speak for a few seconds, which helped König realise that he was about to talk to someone. He clenched his jaw and his stomach filled with moths, a disgusting feeling that fluttered around. He could feel his face getting hot but she probably mistook that for something else, because her smile widened.

“You’re... König, right?” she asked innocently, her hands clasping in front of her. She was wearing a light blue dress that fell loosely around her with a beige cardigan around her shoulders, big enough for König to realise that it wasn’t hers. He nodded minutely and let go of the clench in his jaw, trying to relax.

She giggled quietly, glancing behind König with a look that made König on edge. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked back at König.

“You know how there’s the festival coming up…” she trailed off. He had no idea where she was going with this. He didn’t know there was a festival coming up soon. He wasn’t planning on going. He nodded for her to continue.

“Do you maybe want to go with me? Be my date?”

Oh. König thought about it and the more he thought, the idea sounded almost… appealing, at first. He could have someone to talk to. Someone to listen to. He could have a friend, at the very least andー

She shot an amused glare over his shoulder. 

His thoughts crumbled in seconds.

König immediately knew what was going on. He turned his head to look behind him, and there they all were. A group of boys and a group of girls, huddled close and quietly giggling to themselves as if they could barely hold it in.

Humiliation filled his lungs and choked him. He swallowed down the feeling and looked back at her. Something in his face must’ve looked truly devastating because he saw a bit of regret in hers. He pursed his lips and sighed quietly. He shook his head.

“No, thanks,” he all but muttered. He had almost fallen for it. Tears burned behind his eyes and he didn’t want to blink them away because then it’ll be obvious that he was about to cry, and that’s just pathetic. 15 years old and couldn’t handle a joke. It wasn’t just some old joke, though. He was the joke, he thought bitterly.

Stefanie was about to say something beforeー

“Go on, König! Get in there!” one of the boys yelled from the crowd. König clenched his jaw. Instead of the usual anxiety and embarrassment brewing in his stomach, he felt a splash of anger, like a lighter to gasoline. One spark and it all goes to shit.

His grip on the book tightened a little bit as another boy hollers out:

“König, my man!” 

It didn’t take long for König to stride across the ground, getting to the group in seconds. 

The pain in his knuckles felt like nothing compared to his satisfaction of seeing Gustav on the floor with a bloody nose.

But it wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t enough because he wasn’t enough. 

He got on top of Gustav. Blood spurted everywhere, from the broken teeth and the broken nose to the inside of Gustav’s throat and mouth. This didn’t compare to the years of pent-up trauma, anxiety, pain and agony and everything in between, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try. 

It took the group of people ten seconds to pull König off of him, both of his arms caught in death-tight grips. He didn’t do enough. Gustav’s face was a bloody mess as the boy was dragged away by another one of his friends. There was blood splatter on the ground, and he felt a surge of pride running through his gut before pain spiked.

The two holding him had let go, letting him drop onto the ground on his back with a light grunt. He suddenly remembered, years ago in this same position. The same punches and kicks came down raining on him, but they were harder, he could hear things snapping and bending in awkward angles. 

He tried to fight back but he was pushed, pushed and pushed back down. He tried, God believe him he tried. 

Someone was yelling stop. It wasn’t him, he knew that for sure. It was a familiar voice, authoritative. They stopped. He gasped as soon as his body allowed him to.

Fuck, that all happened so fast. Too fast. He choked on the blood that stirred in his mouth, moving to the side to spit it out. There was a gentle hand helping him sit up.

“ König, König, can you hear me? I said back up!” the man barked. König nodded shakily and spat out more blood onto the ground, his arms trembling. It wasn’t bad, he could feel his ribs whenever he breathed and that wasn’t normal, but at least he could breathe. 

“König, c’mon, we gotta get you to the infirmary, alright?” 

Everything that happened next was a blur of white walls and the manー whoever he was, sounded Englishーhalf helping him through the halls and half dragging him. People were helping him then, actually helping and not giving him a bandaid and some ice. 

-

The next day, he was in the principal's office with his mum, Gustav and his mum. Gustav’s mother looked a lot like himーbrown shaggy hair and a sharp angular face, but her eyes looked a lot softer around the edges. Gustav looked fine, to him. A broken nose, a black eye and a few bruises on his jaw aren’t anything compared to what he’s given König over the years.

Gustav’s friends were loyal, that’s for sure. He had a broken wrist and broken nose, two bruised ribs and a cracked one for good measure.

The principal waited for a few moments before turning to his mother. He felt guilty about having to drag her in at 9 am, since she didn’t have a morning shift she was allowed to sleep in a bit. She still looked a bit tired. She had his father’s leather jacket around her shoulders and was dressed ruggedly. She had her hand rubbing up and down on König’s forearm comfortingly.

“You know why you’re in, yes, Mrsー”

“Just call me Gabriella,” his mother interrupted. König hid a smile whilst pretending to itch his face. “And of course, I know why I’m here. My son came home looking like this,” she gestured to his face. 

“Yes, we know. Your son attacked Gustav, over here, and Gustav’s friends retaliated. We’ll be talking to them shortly, but it seems like König and Gustav have a… violent history, to say the least.” 

To say the least.

“To say the least?” his mother read his thoughts, “to say the least, Mr Schwartz? Violent is nowhere close to what my son had to endure forー how long again was it since it started, sweetheart?” her tone changed immediately when talking to him. König smiled slightly and muttered two years back to her.

“Two. Years. And now you step in when my son finally fights back? What kind of policy are you promoting here?” his mother snapped at the principal. Gustav’s mother was flaring with fury, looking down at Gustav and saying ‘2 years, Gustav?’ 

“Now, G-Gabriellaー”

“ No. I don’t want to hear it, actually,” his mother stood up, grabbing her bag, “you’re setting a bad example for young minds, especially minds like Gustav’s. What kind of man do you think a bully like him will grow up to be? A good lawyer, a well-paying doctor?” she gestured for König to stand up quietly and quickly with her hand. He did so and they left with a flurry of closing doors and a ruffled receptionist waiting for her at the door to let her and König out for the day. It was clear she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

They walked in silence for a few minutes before his mother turned to him.

“Two years, darling?” she questioned quietly, her hand gently on his shoulder. He nodded.

“I’m sorry for not telling you before,” he said just as quietly back to her, “I didn’t want to worry you, you have a lot on your plate.”

“It’s okay, baby,” she sighed, leaning over and going on her tippy toes, and pulling him down to kiss him on the head. He laughed at her attempts and leaned down more to help her out. She gave him another kiss and then pushed him away amusingly. He laughed harder at that.

“Wanna go get ice cream?” she asked suddenly, checking her purse for the right amount of money. 

“Are you sure?” he asked hesitantly.

“‘Course I am. You got in a fight and almost won一 what happened, anyway?” she turned to look at him. Her eyes were pitiful, and almost understanding. König pursed his lips and looked away.

“They set up some girl to ask me out as a joke,” he muttered, kicking a pebble out of his way. The pavement suddenly became very interesting, with all the little cracks, grass, weeds and flowers growing in between them. 

She sighed deeply. Silence stretched on for a few minutes. They were nearing the ice cream parlour when his mother spoke.

“Kids are mean, aren’t they, Kökö?” she said simply. 

That’s one way of putting it. He nodded with a hum. A simple way of putting it. 

The ice cream tasted good, now that he’s earned it. It let him forget about the type of environment he’d have to go into tomorrow. 

He stewed in his thoughts for a while, as his mother went to work for the day and probably wouldn’t be back until early the next day.

He didn’t want to go to school tomorrow. He’s been thinking this for years, now. Every morning he woke up, unsure of what the day would give him. Bruises, cuts? Everyone else seemed so sure of what to behold them. They all seemed so sure of themselves.

König was tired of living in a world he didn’t understand. 

In fairness, the world didn’t understand him either.