Chapter Text
Ouma’s pounding head rested against a brick wall, his gaze fixated on the concrete ground he sat on.
His pants and arm sleeves were rolled up, and his blazer was unbuttoned (so as the white button-up he wore underneath.) Fresh cuts and bruises unevenly covered his skin, causing pain to strike his entire body.
Ah, situations like this always made him feel so helpless; so terrible; so worthless; situations like this always made off-topic and hurtful thoughts bloom in his mind.
He’d think about how his mother told him to “Suck it up” when this happened.
He’d think about how ex-friends abandoned him for his preferences; for expressing himself.
He’d think about how much everyone’s poisonous words hurt.
He’d think about how others judged his appearance; what he wore; how he was built; how his frame appeared to be.
Why did he think about such arbitrary things when this happened?
Ouma didn’t understand; he didn’t understand why he thought about these things; he didn’t understand why these events happened to him.
Ouma bent his knees, hugging the pair of limbs and burying his face into them.
Eyes watering, he shut his eyes closed, and tears began to flow down his cheeks. A sob that broke from him turned into multiple sobs.
He sat there, his head between his knees as he sobbed.
Ouma sobbed because it hurt; everything hurt. He couldn’t take it; it was overwhelming; it was excruciating.
How long would it be until he actually did something about this? He didn’t know, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever know.
Suck it up; I need to suck it up. I just need to suck this up. There are people who go through far worse.
Ouma’s head rose, his palms meeting his teary eyes.
…
Oh, he must’ve been loud enough to catch someone’s attention, because a familiar and concerned voice sounded through his ears.
“Ouma..Kun? Ouma-Kun, what happened to you?”
Well, this was new.