Tell me about your first fight.
“Tell me about your first ____.” : Finish it in my inbox!
It was almost like it was yesterday. 7 years old– moved to Inaba when he was that age, too. Just months after his arrival did he find himself throwing another child down. His only friend since he moved, really. He was terrified of losing someone so close. Even now, he was scared of being completely alone. He clung to whatever he could to keep himself from being too lonely.
He wasn’t sure how to word it. The fact that he drew blood to their face and more than just a black eye was enough for him to wonder if it’d be alright recounting the events. He wasn’t certain, for once in his life, that there was a method that he wanted. Details were what they wanted. He didn’t mind, but there was still something holding him back. A vague connection to the other. Names felt so inappropriate to use for this. Why should someone be harassed for something that happened when they were younger?
He stayed quiet for minutes, mulling over what occurred, for it was an incident he could never forget. The duo used to have fun, with playful yelling and cheering. When that day happened, though, it ceased to exist. There was silence, with the occasional “OW,” and “STOP IT,” that came from the other’s mouth, and even then did he not stop. Souji couldn’t stop. He was lost in his fear– his TERROR overwhelmed him. It was a pitiful attempt to make them be with him for as long as they could live; violence seemed like the answer! He wanted them to stay. They didn’t understand that. They didn’t understand what had happened to his parents, for they never could have. Not at the time.
He felt a pang of guilt from this recall. He lost a precious friend because of his own mistakes. He fucked up, he screwed up, and there was no way to reverse it. He cried on that day, and it seemed every tear that he shed from it had come back. It’d been years since it’d even happened. He wasn’t sure why it even had to be brought up. Did they want to know why it all started– how he became the delinquent he was now? There was a grunt of disapproval at the very thought. Despite that possibility, when it came down to it, this was only another awful talk with another person that wanted to know every little bad thing about him. This was why he despised most of those around him. Curiosity with underlying, underhanded reasons were what made him feel such intense animosity towards society. It always had been a generally disgusting place, huh?
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