Chapter 81: The Depths of the Ocean (6) – 79

<Rua's POV>

Micheal...

He was a weird personality alright.

Sometimes he acted like a complete child who was still trying to learn how the world worked, whilst at other times, he was a calm, cool, collected adult who had no problem solving the conundrum that was presented to him.

If I could describe his personality the best I could, it would be akin to that of a "special" teenagers, one that didn't really know about love, evident by how he kept missing my "hints" and subtle "invitations", but also one that was a lot smarter for their age.

At this point, I was basically describing the quiet kid in class, wasn't I...

Anyways, he could be seen as having developed like this from his background, one in which he spent all his time fighting in some of the most dangerous situations in the world, and not interacting that much with other people.

He also had no parents, thus, he had no one to teach him that ways of the world like I did, and so that probably explained some things too.

'Parents...'

I had just opened a can of worms that I shouldn't have, hadn't I? Sigh...

'Oh, wow, I just accidentally banged my head on the doorframe, what perfect timing.' I thought, drily, as I went into a flashback...

...

"Rua! Get over here right now!"

A young version of myself, covered in dirt and debris, looked upon the world through the lips of my shallow, silver eyes, unaffected by the rashness of reality.

"Yes, Mother."

Quickly walking up to my mother in rags that could barely count as clothes, I bowed down and laid my body bare before her.

"What have I said about giving food to others?"

"That it is unacceptable."

"And what have you done."

"I have given food to others."

"WHY?! Even you yourself know your sins!"

"Bam!"

"Fucking useless child."

As I laid there, huffing and puffing as I tried to regain my breath, I crawled out of the caved in hole that my body has just made upon the impact.

Feeling something leaking out of my privates, I touched my hand to it before bringing my hand up to my face.

And, even through my blurry eyes, I could tell exactly what it was.

"Blood."

I gritted my teeth as I fell asleep that night.

...

At the age of 18, I had been able to escape, somehow finding myself in this strange new country, America.

I had then become a "normal" person, trying my best to fit in with society as I wore a happy smile on my face, doing the thing I loved the most, painting.

Yet, when I finally fell in love, and felt loved back for the first time in my life, everything came crashing down almost immediately.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Nakamura, but you'll never be able to bear a child."

The image of my blood covered hand covered my screen, as I cried there, in my fiancé's arms, beginning to feel lost again in this accursed world, as the embrace of his body suddenly felt cold.

In the end, after he started beating me for a few weeks afterward, calling me a useless woman over and over again, I couldn't take it anymore, and I ended our relationship.

After that, I had vowed to never love anybody else ever again.

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And my mental health has also gotten worse, as I found myself making attempts on my life over and over again, my wrists obtaining scar after scar.

I hated the way they looked.

I hated the way other people looked at me, as if I was a wet, disabled dog.

I hated the way the world looked, all bleak and grey.

I hated the way I looked, as I punched my face in the mirror every day, drawing blood from my fists.

Why had I been born in the first place, if it was only to suffer?

Why had I been born in the first place, if I only felt pain?

Why had I been born in the first place, if I only saw darkness?

Why had I been born in the first place, if death without life was the only ending for me?

Attempt after attempt, hospital after hospital, home after home, and painting after painting, I pondered these question, finding nothing but a mirage of my being in the answer.

Thus, in the end, I was able to learn one important fact.

I was never whole in the first place.

My attempt after that realization had almost succeeded.

"You'll be sent to a mental hospital now, Ms. Nakamura."

Hearing this, I thought that this would be the end of my life, as I would spend the rest of my years there, lost, floating on a buoy in my ocean of sorrows.

Yet, unexpectedly, I found someone in this place, this place of ending.

He was first and foremost, a beautiful specimen, someone that I could draw any day, his features perfect in my eyes.

So, what was he doing here? In this kind of place?

It turned out that the man had almost no emotions that he could show, and although sometimes acted like a perfect knight in shining armor, would also be like a kid in some situations, completely not knowing what to do, and ending up choosing something so childish that I couldn't even be mad at him for choosing it.

He was a contradictory man, and I couldn't help but be drawn closer and closer to him as each day passed by.

There were also his screams and painful groans in the middle of the night, that I would hear every day, unable to sleep myself whilst listening to the pain of others.

Yet, for some strange reason, these reminders of his pain, whatever it may have been, just continued to act as a catalyst between us in my heart, as he seemed all the more relatable to me.

At one point, I came to realize that he could be the missing part to mine, the half to my half that could create a whole.

So, when he stuck by me all day, I didn't feel anything weird, and when he became the first person that I showed my artwork to since visiting that doctor, I didn't feel nervous or anything.

I was completely comfortable in his presence, I was happy.

Happiness...

If only that feeling could last forever.

But, looking at the stars, I somehow knew that they were telling me some things.

That nothing could last forever.

And that, soon, I would be separated from him.

Why?

Why was the world so cruel?

Only fate would know.

As it fucked me in the ass without lube with this thing called "life".

Fucking bitch.

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