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Life was not fair.
Most learned that the hard way. Some benefited from that lesson, others did not.
None of it was far.
Some could be born into riches and living lavish lives, others were born into poor families while doomed to spend the rest of their lives working just to make it to the next week. Hard work did not always get you far, being nice and polite would not gain the respect of everyone you meet, and in the blink of an eye any and every thing you’ve ever loved could be gone in an instant.
He of all people knew this very well, how could he not? What kind of horrible atrocities could someone have committed in their past life to render being born in the most shallow district with one of the most repulsive faces?
Yes, Gyutaro knew all to well what it was like, or at least he liked to think he did. There was always one little thing that bothered him, creeping up in the back of his mind and always causing his train of thoughts to screech to a halt.
That thing was you.
———
It was summer, most likely one of the hottest days if he had to guess, but considering he was forced to spend most of his days wandering outside with his only saving grace being the tiniest amount of shade cast on him from trees, every hot day started to feel the same.
It really hadn’t been his fault he’d been going through that persons trash, it really wasn’t.
The last time he’d tried keeping his hunger down with dead mice or bugs he caught a terrible sickness that left him bedridden (if you could even call it that, considering he never really had a bed to sleep on) for over two weeks, so he wasn’t really keen on trying that again anytime soon.
The homeowners made a habit out of throwing out half eaten fruit or leftover dinner that no one cares to finish or give out, a complete waste in his opinion, but for the past few days he had no issue with taking it off of their hands.
Until he was caught that is.
“And stay out!”
With a loud grunt and a kick to the stomach that would most certainly leave a dark bruise for at least a week, Gyutaro fell to the ground, clutching his empty stomach and writhing in pain as the old woman scowled at him and who he presumed to be her son looked down at him with a look of disgust he knew all too well, wiping his boot on the ground as if he would catch something from having it come in contact with the boy.
He partially blamed himself for this, being far to consumed digging through their trash can for whatever he could stuff in his mouth to notice or hear the back door opening until he was being grabbed by the collar of his tattered shirt and dragged off of their porch, which of course didn’t go without its fair share of violence.
The homeowner looked around, grabbing the closest thing she could find, a flower pot with spider lilys that looked like they were knocking on deaths door, and chucked it at him. Luckily for him, he had enough strength to push himself to the side before it could come into contact with his head.
“This is why I can’t stand filthy vermin like you! Always sneaking around places where you don’t belong! You’d be better of dead!” The woman screamed.
For a split second, a thought flashed through Gyutaro’s mind that made him wonder if plotting someone’s death would make him just as bad as those who he despised that wished for his.
The man put a hand on the woman’s shoulder and shook his head with a bored expression that Gyutaro took as him signaling that the boy wasn’t worth the trouble of yelling at or getting rid of himself. She hesitated, before an annoyed look crossed her face and she turned her back, screaming into the open door.
“Hey idiot! Come make yourself useful!”
At first, Gyutaro assumed that another one of her adult children was going to come out to deal with him, a beating or getting cursed out maybe? He was already considering how fast he’d need to run, but the sound of light footsteps scrambling towards the door made him reconsider that choice.
And out came a girl.
While he could tell she was a child, he found it hard to figure out just how old she was. Her hair was knotted and even he could see, and smell, from a distance that it hadn’t been washed in a long, long time, both caked with dirt and dandruff. Her clothes looked like used potato rags, dirtied and ripped in many places, add that on top of the fact that they clearly didn’t fit, the pants were far to short and it seemed as if the shirt was meant to be a long sleeve but went just barely past her elbows.
Her skin was covered in cuts and bruises and scars, though it would be hard to compare her to having just come back from a fight seeing as she was clearly in no shape to fend for herself. The girl was practically skin and bones, and the dark eye-bags gave the indication that she hardly slept. Over all…
She looked pathetic.
Gyutaro’s head cocked to the side as he watched her run up to the door frame, and with little to no hesitation, as if she were picking up a smelly trash bag, she grabbed the girl by her shirt and shoved her through the door frame, giving her no time to recover her balance as she threw a broom at the girl from inside and she fell to her knees.
“Get rid of him and clean up the mess if you know what’s good for you. Don’t come back until the place is spotless—or else.”
And with that, her and her scumbag son disappeared into the house, the door shutting behind them with a loud slam.
He wasn’t sure how long Gyutaro had been laying there, staring at the girl, but when the pain from his abdomen dissipated into a harsh sting, he sat himself up to get a good luck at her.
She hadn’t moved yet, laying on her stomach with her face half pressed against the ground, eyes closed. For a minute he wondering if maybe she was so frail that the simple push had knocked her out, or worse, but after a few moments her eyes began to open and she shakily used her arms to push herself back up until she was on her knees.
Reaching for the broom, she used it as a walking stick to regain her equilibrium and rise to her feet, before she finally paid any mind to him.
The moment their eyes met Gyutaro felt a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was hard to determine just what exactly it was. Pity, maybe? Whatever the case, he didn’t spend to much time thinking on it.
Not a word was spoken until she started to move toward him at such a pitiful pace that he stayed mostly out of pity for the girl. She tried raising the broom, but didn’t seem to have the strength or will for it, resorting to nudging him with the end while staring down at the ground.
“Get up, the owners won’t like it if you stay here too much longer.”
Annoying as it was, he complied, not wanting to have another confrontation with such entitled and pesky adults. When he rose to his feet he met eyes with her yet again. While he had no clue who she were or what she were look, he could read the look and tell what was going through both of their heads as their gazes locked.
‘You’re just like me.’
Without warning, the girl reached into the pocket of her battered pants. Not knowing what to expect, he took a wary step back, only to halt when he saw what she pulled out—a piece of bread.
She held it out with an expectant look, gesturing with her head for him to take it, which he did so, inspecting the food with caution before deciding it was worth the risk and quickly starting to scarf it down.
“It’s what you came for, right?”
The girl watched with a flat expression he couldn’t read, and when he looked up, crumbs littering his face, she spoke up again.
“It was me who told them you were out there.”
The somewhat satisfied look on his face fell, and his natural frown started to form, but before he could even get the chance to raise his voice or get angry at you for ratting him out, you cut him off.
“Rat poison.”
His expression was puzzled.
“They noticed the missing trash, you weren’t very subtle. My master believed it to be vermin, likely rats or raccoons, so they started dousing it with poison to get rid of the hinderance. You’d be dead by now if you tried to eat from there.”
Gyutaro stared at her, dumbfounded. Why would she go through that trouble for him? Was it sympathy? Why would anyone care for him in such a way?
He wasn’t sure, but nevertheless he was grateful she had done so.
“Why?”
It was his only question, but went unanswered, as she quickly turned her back on him starting to sweep up the remains of shattered flower pot into a pile. “You should leave now while you can. I don’t have anymore food today and if they catch you out here they might come armed.”
Today?
Gyutaro wanted to heed her warning, but there had been one last thing bothering him about her.
“Your name?”
She paused, standing still with broom in hand, but after a moment she resumed, her eyes still on the ground with her back to the boy.
“It’s Y/N.”
Y/N.
He liked that name.
“Y/N…I’ll remember that,” was all he said last to her before taking off.
It was that day that he realized that while life might not have been fair, it wasn’t completely terrible. What he needed wasn’t good luck or a savior that could give him the power to fight off every problem or allow him to enact revenge on anyone or thing who wronged him. He needed someone who would understand, someone just like him, and that was you.