A heavy breath escaped Nagisa's lips before he suddenly bent down and grabbed Haruki by his brown hair.
Haruki screamed in pain, clutching at his father's hand with both of his tiny ones, begging him to let go.
But before he could say a word, Nagisa roared in his face— his voice loud and furious, dripping with bitterness and blame, a tone no child should ever hear, a tone one might not even use on an enemy.
"This is all your fault!"
"Say it! Admit it was your mistake!"
Tears began to stream down the boy's face—from pain, from fear.
He didn't understand what he was supposed to admit, or why he was being punished like this.
With a trembling voice, broken by sobs, Haruki tried to speak between gasps for breath.
"W-What… what am I supposed to say?"
Nagisa threw Haruki's small body to the ground with force.
The boy's back slammed against the hard floor, and a cry of pain burst from his lungs.
He clutched his back with both hands, his sobs growing louder with each breath.
And yet—despite the crying, the gasps, the trembling hands— Nagisa's gaze remained unchanged.
Cold. Empty. Void of any mercy.
He shouted again, louder, angrier than before.
"Admit it! You're the reason your mother is dead!"
The words struck Haruki like lightning, a violent jolt straight to his chest.
His wide, tear-filled eyes trembled as he looked up at his father.
Though his vision was blurry, he could still feel the hatred pouring off of him.
A memory flashed—the money he'd lost.
Thoughts began to swirl in his head like a violent storm, but only one rose above the chaos.
Was it my fault? Is Mom dead because of me?
Everything went quiet in his head. The pain faded. The confusion didn't. Only guilt remained.
His lips trembled, and slowly parted to release a voice broken by fear.
"I... I'm... the reason... Mom died..."
The last word caught in his throat.
And with it, the sentence carved itself into his mind— an eternal scar.
Nagisa's eyes darkened, and a shadowy aura formed around him—like a black cloud that swallowed the entire house.
He clenched his hand into a tight fist, his muscles taut, his nails nearly digging into the skin of his palm.
His chest rose and fell with shallow, heavy breaths, and his gaze never left the sight of his son lying on the floor, cracking under the weight of pain and sorrow.
Before Haruki could lift himself up, a slap struck his face...its sound echoed through the walls of the house.
Haruki's eyes widened in shock. Pain surged through his cheek, pulsing like fire, and tears clung stubbornly to his eyes.
Every time he thought the pain had passed, another wave crashed into him—grief and agony pouring out in endless tides.
Nagisa stared at his son's cheek, now flushed red with the mark of harm… harm that had come from his own hand.
Nagisa moved away, with Haruki stumbling behind him, trying to cope with all the pain and disappointment in his father.
The man who had once been his source of safety had turned into a heap of chaos and violence.
Haruki felt completely lost, with every step further from his father deepening the void inside him, not knowing where to turn, or if there was even anyone left to turn to.
Choked sobs broke through his tears, which he tried to stifle with his small hands, afraid of disturbing his father again.
He placed both hands on the ground, pushing himself up, despite his trembling knees, a mixture of pain and fear completely engulfing him.
With quiet yet swift steps, he moved toward his room.
He shut the door behind him as soon as his feet crossed the threshold.
There, he tried to create a safe space for himself, shielding himself from the pain.
***
The days passed like a living nightmare, but in reality, the child spent the entire month living under the same roof as his father.
It wasn't that his grandmother no longer cared about him—she simply hoped that the little boy might bring some joy back into her son's heart.
She had no idea what was truly happening inside that house, or the abuse her grandson was enduring.
As for Haruki, he spent most of his days playing with his friends.
Some of the parents occasionally noticed the bruises on his body and the pitiful state he was in, but they didn't know what was happening behind Nagisa's closed doors—and they chose not to interfere.
At night, Haruki would hide within the four walls of his room, too afraid to step out… fearing his father's merciless blows.
On the twelfth of November, Haruki returned home after hours of nonstop play with the neighborhood kids. Dust clung to his clothes, and in his hand he held one of his favorite toys: a slingshot he had built himself.
He pushed the door open with his small hands, and the moment he crossed the threshold, he froze—his father's shoes were there.
A chill shot down his spine… His father wasn't supposed to be home.
________
Thank you for reading! If you're excited to see what's going to happen in the next chapter, don't forget to add it to your library.💐