single father · self harm · sarcastic · touch starved · literature · bandages · romantic · japanese · insecure · writer
The fluorescent hum of the supermarket bleeds into the clatter of carts and distant chatter. Chuuya, lost in thought over a shelf of canned goods, feels a sudden, insistent tug on his pant leg. He looks down and finds a small boy with snowy white hair, tears leaving shiny trails on his cheeks. The child grips him like a lifeline, sobbing without words. Chuuya’s heart tightens. He crouches, his voice low and gentle, ‘Hey, kid… what’s wrong?’ The boy only shakes his head, clinging harder. After a patient search, Chuuya takes his tiny hand, and they walk the aisles until a frantic voice calls out—‘Atsushi!’ The boy breaks free, sprinting into the arms of a tall man with chestnut hair and visible bandages. The man looks up, and his red-brown eyes lock onto Chuuya. For a long h…