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Why are they looking at me like that...? Why won't they stop staring at me? Why am I being looked at like I'm... useless? He couldn't help but grip the stick slightly closer to himself, looking around to see that everyone was staring at him with a look he had only ever seen from his family. He tried so hard not to disappoint everyone, so why...? Why was everyone looking at him like he was a disappointment? He looked in front of him, watching as Hyo chose a sword. It was nothing fancy. Just... a sword. Something that someone who was naturally gifted would pick. He ignored the sword for a stick? Everyone else chose something cool and practical, yet he was standing there with a stick? He wanted to run away. To escape all of his problems. The looks he was being given were ingrained in his mind, and he felt eyes all over him. He hated it. It felt disgusting. He wasn't disgusting. He couldn't be. He was a Nijiku. He had an image to uphold.
He was defeated by everyone. He couldn't stop trembling the entire time, and people took advantage of his instability. He wanted to cry. He really, really wanted to cry. Everyone was laughing at him. He was in pain from getting beaten so harshly by his peers. He hated it when it hurt. He hated being in pain. He hated it so much. It was the reason he tried so hard. If he did well enough, he wouldn't get hurt. But he failed. He was so... weak... A Nijiku can't be weak. It was something everyone knew. But he was a weak Nijiku. He was nothing but a mistake.
"Zanka, stay here after dismissal," his teacher told him, and it took everything in him not to break down then and there in front of everyone. He nodded his head weakly, scared that he wouldn't be able to keep his composure if he spoke. Everyone was laughing at him. He wanted to run away so badly. He was so tired. I just want to go home... he thought, his lip trembling, but he looked down so no one would see. He wanted to go home, but he was scared to go home. He just wanted to sleep. He wanted to be held and be told everything was going to be ok. He just wanted to know someone cared about him.
"Hyo! You're going to get the Golden Throne this year!" Someone said. Everyone was surrounding her. "I can't believe we never realised how... worthless Zanka was. He was playing with us this whole time!" Someone else said. People kept talking to her, praising her while talking shit about him. They didn't even try to hide what they were saying. He hated it. He tried so hard to be at the top so he could sit in the Golden Throne. It was all he wanted. If he could do that, then his family would care about him. He would no longer be useless, a mistake, a stain on the Nijiku name. But he was useless. He was a mistake. And he was a stain on the name.
Everyone left the classroom, new weapons in hand as they left. Zanka stayed behind, trying not to cry as his teacher walked over to him. He looked down, holding the stick tighter, but he felt the searing gaze of his teacher's eyes on him. "Zanka." The voice was stern and caused him to flinch a little. "Look at me, Nijiku Zanka." He obeyed, slowly lifting his shaky head to meet his teacher's eyes. He went to ask something, but he felt a slap across his cheek. It was getting harder and harder to hide the tears that wanted to fall. He heard footsteps coming to the classroom. He heard his father's voice before he saw the man.
"You have wasted my time with this act of yours, boy," his father told him once he had finished talking to his teacher about how much of a useless piece of shit he was. "I apologize, father," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady. It didn't work. Of course, it didn't work. Please... Please don't hate me, Dad. Please... I tried so hard. I wanted to win, too. I tried, please believe me! Why won't you believe me! Why won't anybody believe me? He was breaking. It hurt so much. Both his body and his heart hurt. He wanted it to stop. He hated the pain. He wanted it to stop so much that it hurt. Why was his father hurting him now? Hadn't he been through enough today? He was able to hold in his tears until he made it to his room.
He collapsed onto his bed, sobbing. I tried so hard... I tried so hard. Please... stop hurting me... I hate it. It hurts. I don't like when it hurts... I just want it to stop... Am I not good enough for you? What else do I need to do for you to love me? For you to stop hurting me? He thought to himself, curling into a ball and scratching his arms until his nails broke and his skin was bleeding more than it already was.
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He watched as Hyo sat on the Golden Throne, praises being thrown at her. People were clapping. It wasn't fair. He tried harder than anyone else to sit on that throne, just for it to be taken by some nobody who just showed up. She didn't even care about the privilege that was sitting on the Golden Throne. She didn't care about it. She told him that herself. She didn't understand it, so why? Why was she the one sitting in it? "None of us ever thought that Zanka Nijiku wouldn't be the one sitting up on this throne today, but here we are. Hyo has beaten those odds just like she beat Zanka." His teacher's speech was just making him feel worse. He heard the chuckles of people around him. He felt the eyes that were scanning him, burning through his skin.
It was getting harder and harder to hold back his tears as his teacher kept speaking and his peers kept laughing. It hurt worse than any punishment he had faced. It hurt so bad. His heart felt like it was being crushed. His lips started trembling, and his vision started to become blurry. He wasn't able to hold any of it in. Everyone had their weapon in their hands, and he had a stick. A stick prevented him from succeeding. Hell, the stick wasn't even supposed to be there! But, if he was able to throw a stick out so easily, did that mean that everyone else could throw him away just as easily?
He heard someone laugh, but he didn't look over. "Look! Zanka's crying over being useless!" Someone said, and his head shot up. He noticed everyone was staring at him, laughing and pointing. "You're just as useless as that damn stick of yours!" Someone else said. He couldn't stop the tears from falling. He wanted to leave. He wanted to go home, but home wasn't even safe. "You're second best, stop complaining! Do you know how hard I tried? Do you know how much effort I put in just for your lousy ass to get second place and be upset about it?"
He knew what that feeling was like. Hell, he probably knew it more than anyone else here. He felt someone grab his arm. It hurt. He looked up and saw his brother. He was dragging him away.
His family disowned him and tossed him out. Apparantly he had grown a bond with the stick to the point he relied on it. He relied on a piece of garbage, and his family disowned him for it.
His brother opened the gates and threw him out, closing the door as his little brother clawed and begged. He noticed that two people were watching him, but he didn't have it in him to care. He had lost everything in the blink of an eye. He was sobbing, begging for his brother to let him in, but he knew his brother was probably long gone by now. He wouldn't hear Zanka's begs. Wouldn't hear his pleas. "Please... I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'll do better!" He shouted, clawing at the gate that blocked him off from his entire life. He wanted to die.
He heard footsteps walking towards him, and saw a hand start reaching towards him. He flinched back quickly, gasping as he did. He looked up at the man, fear in his eyes. The man looked confused, but he looked at Zanka's eyes and then at the stick. He was gripping it tighter now. The man hummed, looking at Zanker closer. "Aren't you the youngest Nijiku?" He asked. "Not anymore," Zanka scoffed, and the man's eyes softened a bit. "You're a giver." The man stated. Oh yeah, that's what they called it... "I don't care what it is..." He choked out. "Man, Zanka, right? Anyway, Riyo and I both watched that whole thing, and damn, that guy is a total douch. Same with the rest of the crowd." Zanka didn't say anything. "Man, family really did a number on ya," he noted, looking at the bleeding boy in front of him. "We gotta get ya some help. Plus, you'll die out here if we don't do somethin'."
"Just let me die then... I've already lost everything..."
"Then wanna gain somethin' new? It won't be the same as what ya had here, but it will be something that makes you wanna keep living."
I don't want to die... but I don't have anything to live for... Could I really have a reason to live?
In the end, the man, Enjin, didn't really give the boy a choice in the matter. The girl, Riyo, was nice to him. It was... weird. They saw what happened with him, yet they didn't care. She wanted to be friends with him, and Enjin believes he has what it takes to join the Ceaners.
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Everyone was being so... nice. They were being nice to him. They didn't even know him, but they already liked him. Their healer, Eisha, was able to take care of most of the damage, but she is still somewhat new to the job, so she doesn't have much experience or confidence yet.
"Hey kiddo, how ya doing?" Enjin asked him, visiting him in the hospital bed. He was hiding his arms due to the fact that he was given a short-sleeved gown and not a long-sleeved one. He knew Eisha had already seen his arms, and there was a good chance Enjin did as well. But... he still hated how they looked. How damaged they were. He had a habit of scratching and cutting his arms. "Why are they the only ones that can hurt me, huh? Why can't I hurt myself?" he asked himself the first time. But he remembers when his family saw. How they scolded him. Would the Cleaners do that to him?
"Fine..." he lied, but he could tell by the look on Enjin's face that he knew the boy was lying. He sighed, leaning back in the chair he was sitting in. "Ya know, it's ok to not be ok." He says, looking at Zanka as he speaks, making sure that the boy understands his words. "Yer family abandoned you for somethin' you couldn't control. That can't be easy." Zanka's lip quivers. "No one is going to hate you for having human emotions here, Zanka."
They sit in silence for a while before he finally speaks, tears falling from his eyes. "I wanted it so bad..." he starts, tears falling harder now. "I just wanted them to love me... I thought that, maybe, just maybe, if I sat on that throne, then they would finally love me..." He chokes on a sob. "She didn't even want it. She just came in, acting like she owned the place, and stole it from me. I tried so damn hard... I tried so hard, so why? Why wasn't it enough?" He was looking at Enjin, tears falling down his face as he choked on sobs that he was trying to silence.
Enjin hugged him. Like, really, hugged him. "I don't know, kid. But I do know that you shouldn't have to do something for your family or friends to love you," he says gently, and Zanka grips onto Enjin's shirt, not wanting him to leave. He had never been hugged before. Never hugged in a meaningful way. Never hugged because someone cared about him. And... no one ever told him that it was ok to cry... no one ever told him that what he was feeling was normal. Enjin went to back away slightly, but he realised how tightly the kid was holding on. It was almost like he had never been hugged before... He realised that he's probably never been hugged before, and it broke his heart a little to think about that. So he held on tighter, rubbing his hand up and down Zanka's back in a calming motion.
Zanka fell asleep while someone was holding him. It was something he had never experienced before, but he... liked it. He liked the Cleaners, too. He found his place amongst them quickly, and he found that he liked this more than what he had back home. He liked being cared about. He liked having people who didn't judge him for showing emotions.