"WHY WAS HE NOT THERE?!", Hideki stood in the corner as his father yelled.
"I DO NOT KNOW! YOUR SON WON'T LISTEN. WENT AROUND CRYING!", his mother retorted pointing at the little Hideki. It was not that he was yelled at often but this time was not going to be easy for him.
"He is simply so very weak. If he was to take over like this, the whole empire will rot under his very feet as he weeps!" His father's attention was now on Hideki. Hideki's timid body shivered as he clenched onto the teddy tighter.
"You have to learn to be out of your little bubble. Your comfort zone and take the lead! But this… you will grow up be worthless like this." The man's eyes drop down to the toy in Hideki's hands that he clenched to his chest.
"What is that thing?"
"S-she is…Teddy father," he replies, his soft ginger eyes meeting the tall man's.
"Give it to me."
First confusion and then sheer fear surface on Hideki's face, "No…father! Please!"
The man massaged his temple with sheer annoyance. He takes a step back and turns around and walks a few steps, his shoes clanking against the smooth marbled floor. And then, his shoulders straightened as he turned around. A current of pure terror runs through the boy's body. He stretches out a shaky arm as he hands the doll to his father.
"See? You are already learning my boy!" The man exclaims with a feverish tone that underlay a deathly sour voice. His hands clenched the toy, crushing the soft material. He brings his other hand to the toy, wrapping his hand, his long fingers around Teddy's head and... a slow ripping noise as the stitches gave away one by one. A few more seconds and her head was off her shoulders clean. Hideki stood there, fat tears dripping down his cheeks and his little knees gave up and he sunk to the floor.
Many thought he was taught a lesson that night. If it made him stronger or weaker was debatable. Saying Hideki was crushed would be a brazen understatement. The thing was, the boy was alone. Unable to seek out comfort or friends. He played with that teddy bear, he ate with it near, he slept next to it and he clenched it tight when he woke up haunted by nightmares. And now, he was going to bed alone after a very very long time. The boy was petrified. Scared that more laughter would follow if he cried more, he slipped to his bedroom quietly and buried his little face against the white pillow as he wept for his friend. He was torn to the point of no return, he thought.
He wanted to feel anger, but none shall emerge in the little boy as he wept more and more. Painfully slow but eventually, sleep came to him. While asleep, he had had the most brilliant idea! He woke up earlier than anyone and snuck into where the incident happened the previous night. He looked around and pried around and he was going to give up soon, but, he finally finds Teddy's severed head and her little lanky body, bleeding stuffing in the trash. He pulls them out and runs to his room, setting her behind a cupboard, to keep her safe.
He was determined, he had a mission that day. He took himself to bed again and waited and waited. Sleep would not come to him as he thought about Teddy behind the cupboard and his plan. He was scared, really scared but most of all, he had hope. He thought about many things those two hours as he waited for the household to wake up to omit out any suspicion. He thought about his teddy, he thought about the fat ginger cat he met the previous night. He thought about the little boy too, with dark hair.
Finally, the day began and everyone was up. And yet, he had to wait more, it seemed like a painfully long time. It was lunchtime for the seamstress and all the maids. He stealthily snuck into the seamstress' room and it did not take long before he found some needles and a brown cocoa thread, which to his utmost joy matched teddy's fur perfectly. He snuck out and went to his room as quickly as he could without raising suspicion. Safely tucking the needles and thread in a drawer, he had to wait again, almost a whole painful day.
Midnight was not good enough, he had to wait longer. The place never slept early. But he knew when the place was the busiest and he would be ignored. 3:30 am rolled around and he slipped out of bed. His tiny hands brought out the pieces of Teddy and the sewing material. He took his small reading light with him to his cupboard and set it inside, turning it on as he closed the cupboard doors from inside after he had turned his room lights off again. Snuggly in his cupboard on the soft, comforting layers of clothes, he sat and tries to put the thread in one of the needles.
He tries and tries, an hour passes by before he resorts to using a needle already loaded with a thread. It was white and not as pretty as the brown one that would blend with Teddy's fur perfectly. But, he had to settle. Time was ticking and morning would roll around soon. And anyhow, he could not see Teddy torn up like this anymore. With that, he went to work.
He was a little boy who had never held needles or thread before, much less sew. He tries and tries yet again. It seemed as if no matter how hard he tried, the needles would jab his tiny fingers even more. He held in tears as he tried to sew up Teddy again. Another hour was gone and there was no fixed Teddy, just bloody fingers.
He had to give up.