Bleeding In Silence

"Spill it, you brat! What's your relationship with Shiori?" Goro demanded, his face contorted with rage.

Kiyo, visibly terrified, quickly said, "W-What? There's nothing between us."

Reluctantly releasing Kiyo, Goro began fixing his collar, "Fine, I'll take your words. But listen closely, I am deeply in love with Shiori. If you even think about getting close to her, you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

Kiyo's eyes filled with fear, stammered, "I'll keep my distance, I swear."

"You'd better stay away from her, or I'll do this again," Goro warned with a menacing smile.

Kiyo's face clouded with terrified confusion, as he asked "Do what again?"

In that same second Goro delivered a devastating punch squarely at Kiyo's face, causing him to collapse onto his bed.

Goro grabbed Kiyo by the hair, lifted him off the bed before delivering a series of brutal punches to his abdomen before quickly spinning Kiyo around, seizing the back of his head and slamming his face against the wall, pinning him there. With a fierce grip, he wrenched Kiyo's arm back, forcefully stretching it.

Kiyo was screaming in pain, crying out while enduring the torment.

After a while, Goro let Kiyo go, who collapsed to the ground, crying.

"Consider that as a warning," Goro said in a menacing tone. "Cross paths with Shiori again, and you'll wish you were dead." With those chilling words, Goro exited the apartment, leaving Kiyo shaken and broken.

Kiyo's cries began filling the room until he found himself gasping for air, the weight of the moment pressing down on him.

In a surge of frustration and fury, Kiyo rose to his feet and charged towards the mirror on his wall. And with a primal scream, he unleashed his pent-up emotions by shattering the glass with a powerful punch.

The shattered mirror left his hand bloodied and throbbing. In a frenzy of rage and anguish, Kiyo hurled objects across the room, his screams blending with the sound of destruction as he tore through his home, breaking everything in sight.

As the chaos intensified, Kiyo's energy waned, and he collapsed to the ground, darkness enveloping him as he slipped into unconsciousness…

One hour later, Kiyo struggles to open his eyes, hearing a sound of desperate sobs of Shiori echoing around him.

Blinking away the remnants of unconsciousness, he finally focused to see Shiori kneeling beside him, holding his bloodied hand With trembling hands, as she was desperately trying to tend to his wound, wrapping crepe bandages around his injured hand with her anguished cries echoing through the room.

With a sudden burst of frustration, Kiyo pulled his hand away, "What are you doing here?" he asked in a low tone.

Through her tears, Shiori held his hand once more.

"Kiyo, please let me help you." She pleaded between her tears, "It's a deep wound, and you've already lost too much blood. Please, let me do this."

"Just go away!" Kiyo shouted, wrenching his hand away from her grasp before rising to his feet. His voice seethed with anger as he continued, "I don't need your help. I don't understand why you're here or what you want from me. You mean nothing to me. Just leave me alone!"

Shiori stood up grasping Kiyo's hand once more, her voice trembling with emotion as she pleaded, "Kiyo, I care for you deeply. You mean everything to me. Please, try to understand."

Kiyo's fury surged as he stepped back from her, "You mean nothing to me! I hate you!" his shout echoing through the room. "Just leave me alone. I never want to see you again. Go awaaaay!" he screams out loud.

Kiyo turned his back on Shiori, leaving her stunned and heartbroken as tears silently flowed down her cheeks, her eyes wide with shock. With a heavy heart, she quickly turned around and fled from the apartment, her silent yet desperate sobs reverberating through the room she had left behind.

Kiyo's tears dropped onto the floor as he made his way slowly to his school bag, pulling out a roll of bandages. With a heavy heart he sat down on his bed and began to tend to the cuts and bruises on his face, the result of Goro's violent blows.

While he tended to his wounds, tears silently streamed down his face, yet his expression remained devoid of any emotion.

He then glanced at his injured hand, which was only partially bandaged from Shiori's attempt to help, he resumed her task and finished wrapping the bandages securely.

Despite the tears still flowing down his cheeks he remained impassive, concealing any hint of emotion.

He raised his gaze upwards, screaming loudly, "Why am I so weak?"

The desperation in his cry echoed through the silence, filled with heart wrenching despair.

"Why do I even exist in this world? Why did you create such weak beings? Why did you create weakness!"

Tears streamed down his face, his sobs echoing in the empty room.

Abruptly, he stopped crying, wiping away his tears. His gaze shifted to the left where a knife was lying on the floor. Kiyo's teeth clenched in rage as he swiftly lunged toward it, snatching it up, gazing at it.

With a fierce intensity in his eyes, he pressed the blade against his throat. His eyes widened in horror as he began to scream, on the verge of cutting into his own neck, his hands shook uncontrollably, tears tracing paths down his cheeks.

Suddenly he stopped screaming and with a heavy heart, he lowered the knife. Rising to his feet he walks and collapses onto his bed in anguish…

The next day, Kiyo attended to his morning routine, methodically brushing his teeth before retreating to his room.

The room was a complete mess, with blood staining the floor, mingling with shards of shattered glass and scattered belongings. Everything lay strewn across the ground.

Despite the chaos and his own injuries, Kiyo dressed himself in his uniform, slung his bag over his shoulder, locked his apartment, and started walking towards school.

Devoid of any visible emotion, Kiyo was walking down the road, walking towards the school, unfazed by the curious stares and murmurs swirling around him.

Out of nowhere those same gang of boys reappeared, blocking Kiyo's path once more with determined intent.

"Hey, check this out, the kid's hurt himself," one of the boys jeered. "What happened to your hand, huh?"

"Looks like he got into a fight with a cat," taunted another gang member, his voice dripping with mockery. "And you know what's even more pathetic? That tiny cat managed to beat the heck out of him."

Their teasing laughter echoed through the surroundings, while Kiyo's expression remained stoic and unmoved.

Without a hint of emotion, Kiyo unzipped his bag and retrieved his lunch box, offering it to the gang.

They got a bit surprised, before one of them quickly snatched the lunch box, declaring, "That's right! No lunch for you today."

Kiyo reaches into his pocket and pulls out some money, extending it towards them with the same impassive demeanour.

Another boy snatched the money. "Looks like the kid's terrified of getting beat up again," he remarked sarcastically.

Without a word in response, Kiyo continued on his way, walking past them.

Suddenly, one of the gang members seized Kiyo's bag, yanking him back to face them.

"Hey, kid, you've been so generous with your offerings, but what about the beating you owe us?" he taunted.

With a swift and brutal strike, the gang member's fist connected with Kiyo's face, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Before Kiyo could react, that boy pinned Kiyo down, sitting on top of him, raining down blows upon him with relentless force.

The other gang members quickly intervened trying to pull him away from Kiyo.

"Stop it, he's already injured. If we keep beating him, he might not make it. We'll deal with him later, once he recovers," they urged, pulling the aggressive member and taking him away from Kiyo.

Left alone on the ground, Kiyo's stoic expression remained unchanged, blood trickling from a gash on his forehead.

With a heavy heart, Kiyo stood back up, retrieved his bag, and resumed his journey towards the school…

Upon his arrival in the classroom, gasps of shock rippled through the room as everyone fixed their eyes on Kiyo's battered state.

Despite being bandaged, fresh blood continued to seep from his facial wounds, painting a grim picture of the violence he had endured.