The school hallway buzzes with energy as students rush to their classes, laughing and chatting in groups. In the midst of this, a boy with medium blond hair and school clothes walks with his head down, his gaze fixed on the floor.

Kai Sotshi, twelve years old and in the sixth grade, has learned that life at school means keeping to himself. He silently drags his feet, hoping to go unnoticed by the people around him. But he knows it's only a matter of time.

As he rounds a corner, he hears a familiar, taunting voice.

"Hey, look who it is. Little Kai the Crybaby,"

sneers Zamachi, a boy from his class with an ever-present smirk. Taller and stronger than Kai, Zamachi towers over him, his arms crossed as if daring Kai to fight back.

Kai freezes, trying not to make eye contact, but it's too late. Kujun, Zamachi's friend and just as cruel, circles around him, grinning.

"What's the matter, Kai? Gonna run home to Mommy?"

Kujun mocks, shoving Kai's shoulder. Kai stumbles back, clutching his backpack tighter.

The boys close in on him, pushing him back and forth like a toy they've grown bored of. Kai barely resists, knowing that any attempt to fight back would only make things worse. He bites his lip, feeling the sting of shame and humiliation in his chest.

"Why don't you say something, loser?"

Zamachi taunts, giving him a harder shove.

"You're too scared to talk? Maybe too dumb?"

Kai clenches his fists but keeps silent, just waiting for them to grow tired of the game. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, a teacher's voice echoes down the hall, and the boys back off with mocking laughter.

"See you tomorrow, Kai!"

Kujun calls as they walk away, leaving Kai to pick up his scattered books and papers alone.

As he slowly gathers his things, Kai feels the weight of isolation more heavily than ever. Everyone else has friends, someone to protect them, but he's always alone. And deep down, he wonders if he deserves it.

The sun is beginning to set as Kai walks home, dragging his feet. His shirt is rumpled, and his cheek is bruised where Zamachi's knuckles left their mark. He doesn't bother to fix his hair or straighten his clothes. No one would care if he did.

The houses he passes all look warm and inviting, filled with laughter and voices, a stark contrast to his own. Each step feels heavier than the last, the weight of the day pressing down on his thin shoulders.

As he nears his neighborhood, a sense of dread settles in his stomach. He knows his father won't be home, and that brings a small, fleeting relief. But his mother's presence is just as oppressive in a quieter, colder way. She might not hit him, but her harsh words and cold indifference often hurt just as much.

He stops for a moment at the edge of the sidewalk, looking up at the sky as it turns shades of pink and orange. It's a rare, beautiful moment that fills him with a strange sense of longing — for something he's never had, something he can't name.

Finally, he forces himself to take the last few steps toward his house, a small, aging building that feels more like a prison than a home.

The house is silent as Kai steps inside, closing the door as quietly as he can. His mother, Ms. Sotshi, stands in the kitchen, her back turned as she meticulously prepares dinner.

"Is that you, Kai?"

her voice calls out, sharp and cutting.

"Yes, Mom,"

he replies quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Did you make a mess at school again? You know how embarrassing it is when the teachers call to complain about you,"

she says without looking at him, her tone laced with disdain.

Kai lowers his head, feeling the familiar sting of her words.

"No, Mom. I didn't."

"Good,"

she says curtly, turning just enough to give him a cold, evaluating look.

"Go to your room. I don't want you in the way while I'm cooking."

Kai nods, feeling the dismissal like a physical shove. He heads to his room, careful not to make any noise. As he climbs the stairs, he realizes how accustomed he's become to shrinking himself down, to making himself invisible. In his own home, he's little more than an inconvenience.

Kai's room is small and bare, with only a bed and a desk piled with old, unused schoolbooks. He lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling, his mind drifting through memories he wishes he could forget.

The loneliness he feels at school is nothing compared to what he feels at home. Here, he has no friends, no comfort, no one to turn to. His mother's words play over and over in his mind, each syllable chipping away at whatever self-worth he has left.

He thinks about his father, whose presence looms over the house even when he isn't home. Kai never knows what kind of mood his father will be in — whether he'll be too tired to notice him or angry enough to hurt him. That uncertainty is its own form of torture.

Kai sighs, a deep, broken sound, and closes his eyes, wishing he could escape this life. He dreams of a world where he isn't alone, where he has friends, maybe even a family that cares. But dreams feel useless when reality presses down so heavily.

In the quiet of his room, he feels the weight of his childhood, every harsh word, every bruise, every moment of loneliness stacking up until he feels like he's suffocating under it all.

The door bursts open, slamming against the wall as Kai's father storms into the room. Kai sits up quickly, instinctively pulling his knees to his chest.

"Kai!"

his father barks, his voice rough and sharp.

"Get up. Go take out the trash and wash the dishes. Are you deaf?"

Kai scrambles to his feet, his heart pounding.

"Yes, sir,"

he murmurs, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

his father snaps, stepping closer, his shadow looming over Kai.

Kai glances up, trying to mask his fear, but he can't stop his hands from trembling. His father's gaze is cold and unyielding, filled with disappointment and a simmering anger that Kai can never seem to avoid.

"Useless,"

his father mutters, shaking his head.

"You're nothing but a burden in this house. Can't even do a few chores without me telling you."

Kai bites his lip, swallowing back the tears that threaten to spill. He knows better than to cry in front of his father. That would only make things worse.

"I'm sorry,"

he whispers, though he knows it won't make a difference.

"Sorry doesn't cut it,"

his father growls, turning on his heel.

"Now hurry up. I don't have all day."

As his father storms out, Kai takes a shaky breath, forcing himself to move, to obey, to survive. He leaves his room, heading to the kitchen to complete his chores, each movement mechanical, as though he's on autopilot.

Inside, he feels hollow, each harsh word and cruel look leaving a mark on him. He's only twelve, but he feels much older, worn down by a life that's given him little kindness.

And as he washes the dishes, his mind drifts once again to that dream of escape, of a world beyond this one, where maybe, just maybe, he could find peace. But for now, he's trapped, and all he can do is endure.

The kitchen is quiet save for the sound of running water as Kai stands over the sink, washing each dish carefully. His hands move methodically, scrubbing, rinsing, and placing each plate on the drying rack. His mother stands a few feet away, stirring a pot on the stove, the aroma of simmering vegetables and broth filling the air.

Kai tries to stay small, making himself as unobtrusive as possible, but he feels her gaze on him, a heavy weight pressing against his back. He knows that look well — a mixture of impatience and disdain, like he's an inconvenience she has to tolerate.

"Could you hurry up already?"

she snaps, not even turning to face him.

"You're in the way, and I'm trying to cook dinner."

"Yes, ma'am,"

Kai murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. He speeds up his movements, careful not to drop anything. He knows that any slip-up will only make her irritation worse.

He finishes the last dish and dries his hands on the worn towel hanging nearby. His mother glances at him briefly, her eyes cold and indifferent, as if he's nothing more than a bothersome shadow passing through her kitchen. Without another word, she turns back to her cooking, dismissing him with silence.

Kai swallows hard, ignoring the lump in his throat. He doesn't expect praise or kindness — not anymore. He's long learned that his presence in this house is tolerated at best. He leaves the kitchen quietly, his shoulders hunched, grateful to escape her gaze.

Kai steps outside, carrying the trash bag in one hand. The air is cool, and the sun is beginning to dip below the horizon, casting the sky in shades of pink, orange, and fading blue. For a brief moment, he feels a strange, bittersweet sense of peace.

He stands still, gazing up at the sky, the colors blending and darkening as the day slips away. The sunset is beautiful, a rare, gentle reminder of a world that exists beyond his everyday struggles. He's never had much reason to look up at the sky, but in this moment, he finds himself captivated.

He wonders if anyone else notices the beauty of the sunset. Maybe there's someone out there, someone who feels as alone as he does, looking at the same sky, longing for something better. The thought brings him a small comfort, fleeting but enough to cling to.

After a moment, he sighs and forces himself to move. He makes his way to the dumpster at the edge of the driveway, lifting the heavy lid and tossing the trash inside. The thud echoes in the quiet of the evening, a sharp reminder of the weight he carries every day. As he lowers the lid, he glances back at the sky one last time, holding onto the colors as they slowly fade into the approaching night.

Back inside, Kai moves toward the dining room, where the table is set and dinner is ready. But as he steps closer, his mother's voice stops him.

"Take your food to your room,"

she says curtly, not even looking up from her seat.

"We don't need you here, crowding the table."

Kai nods, swallowing his disappointment. He had hoped, even if just for a moment, that tonight might be different — that maybe he could sit at the table, even in silence, and feel a small sense of normalcy. But that hope is quickly snuffed out.

He picks up his plate, careful not to make eye contact, and turns to leave, clutching the dish close to his chest. His footsteps are soft as he makes his way up the stairs, the familiar weight of isolation settling over him once more.

In his room, he sits on the edge of his bed, his plate balanced on his knees. He eats in silence, each bite mechanical and tasteless. The food fills his stomach, but it brings no comfort, no warmth. Just another reminder of the walls that separate him from the rest of the world, even within his own home.

The sky outside darkens as the evening turns to night. Kai sits at his small desk, his textbooks spread out in front of him as he struggles to focus on his homework. His eyes feel heavy, his mind weary from the weight of the day.

He tries to concentrate, solving each math problem with mechanical precision, his pencil scratching against the paper in the quiet of his room. But as the minutes tick by, exhaustion creeps in, and he finds himself stretching and yawning, his body begging for rest.

He glances at the clock, realizing that it's getting late, and sighs. Tomorrow is another day, another round of school, of facing Zamachi and Kujun, of returning to a home where he is barely acknowledged. He knows what awaits him — the same pain, the same loneliness, the same cycle.

With a heavy heart, he stands up, leaving his homework unfinished on the desk. He crosses the small room and climbs into his bed, pulling the blanket up to his chin. The darkness outside his window mirrors the darkness he feels inside, a void he can't seem to escape.

As he stares up at the ceiling, his mind drifts, imagining a life where things are different. A life where he's not alone, where he's free from the constant pain and isolation. But dreams feel hollow when reality looms so close, and he knows better than to hope for too much.

He closes his eyes, letting the quiet of the night lull him into a restless sleep, preparing himself for another day of survival.

The soft glow of dawn filters through the blinds as Kai slowly opens his eyes, already dreading the day ahead. Another day of school, of enduring Zamachi and Kujun's torment, and another day of feeling invisible at home. He sits up in bed, letting the weight of everything settle over him before finally dragging himself out.

He pads over to the small bathroom, glancing at himself in the mirror. His reflection stares back, weary and resigned. He splashes cold water on his face, feeling the shock of it wake him up just enough. After drying his face, he picks up his toothbrush and begins brushing, each stroke methodical. He runs his hand through his hair, taming the few unruly strands and doing his best to look presentable, even if he knows it won't make much of a difference.

This simple routine is one of the few things he can control. It's a small ritual that grounds him, a way to brace himself for whatever the day will bring. With one last look at himself, he turns away from the mirror, preparing for yet another difficult day.

Back in his room, Kai pulls on his worn backpack, checking briefly to make sure he has everything he needs. His books are neatly arranged, his pencils sharp, all tucked away in the bag he carries like armor.

He steps out into the quiet hallway, casting a glance toward the living room. It's empty, the usual silence hanging over the house. His mother is likely still in her room, and his father has already left for work. Part of him feels relieved; it's easier this way, moving through the house without being noticed, without anyone's critical gaze lingering on him.

He slips out the front door, the cool morning air hitting his face as he closes it behind him. The street is empty and quiet, a brief moment of peace before he reaches the chaos of school. He tightens his grip on his backpack straps, each step carrying him closer to another day of survival.

As Kai approaches the school building, he feels the familiar sense of dread settle in his stomach. He keeps his head down, his gaze fixed on the ground, trying to avoid any unnecessary attention. The hallways are bustling with students, everyone moving in their own worlds, laughing, talking, pushing past each other.

Lost in his own thoughts, he doesn't see the girl walking toward him until it's too late. He bumps into her, stumbling back a step. Her eyes narrow, flashing with irritation as she glares down at him.

"Watch where you're going,"

she says, her tone dripping with disdain.

Kai looks up, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She's pretty, with striking features and an air of confidence, but the coldness in her gaze makes him feel small, like he's nothing more than an annoyance.

"I'm… sorry,"

he mumbles, quickly bending down to pick up his bag.

She huffs, rolling her eyes as she walks away, leaving him to collect himself. He watches her go for a brief moment before turning and heading toward his first class, the weight of her contempt settling heavily on his shoulders.

The hallways are beginning to thin out as students make their way to their classrooms, but Kai moves slowly, hoping to delay his arrival as much as possible. As he rounds a corner, a sudden, sharp pain explodes in his back, and he stumbles forward, barely catching himself from falling.

"Move it, twerp,"

a familiar voice sneers from behind him.

Kai glances back to see Zamachi and Kujun grinning at him, their eyes gleaming with malice. Zamachi crosses his arms, smirking, while Kujun cracks his knuckles, a warning in the casual way he towers over Kai.

"What's the matter, huh?"

Kujun taunts, stepping closer.

"Didn't get enough sleep, baby boy?"

Kai bites down on his lip, keeping his head down. He knows better than to say anything; any response will only make things worse. But the shame and anger churn within him, his fists clenching at his sides.

"Aw, look at him,"

Zamachi says, chuckling.

"He looks like he's about to cry."

Kujun laughs, shoving Kai again, making him stumble. The other students walking by barely spare them a glance, either too indifferent or too intimidated to intervene. Kai grits his teeth, willing himself to stay calm, to not give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

He straightens, adjusting his bag and trying to walk away, but Zamachi blocks his path, his grin widening.

"What's the hurry, huh? We're just having a little fun."

Kai swallows hard, his heart pounding as he tries to step around them, but they follow him, relentless.

"You think you're too good to talk to us?"

Kujun sneers, shoving him harder this time. Kai stumbles, his knees nearly buckling as he catches himself against the wall, his backpack slipping from his shoulder and hitting the ground.

He reaches down to pick it up, his hands trembling as he tries to hold back the tears stinging his eyes. The hallway around him blurs, the sounds of laughter and footsteps fading into a dull roar as he tries to hold himself together. This is his life, the reality he faces every day — a constant barrage of humiliation and pain.

Finally, Zamachi and Kujun grow bored, laughing as they walk away, leaving him there in the empty hallway. Kai stands there for a moment, his body tense and aching, his pride shattered. He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to gather his things and head to class, each step heavy with the weight of his own isolation.

As he reaches the classroom door, he hesitates for a moment, taking a deep, shaky breath. He knows he'll have to face them again, endure their taunts and abuse, but for now, he steels himself, holding on to the small sliver of resilience that keeps him going.

The bell rings, and Kai slips into his seat, trying to disappear, blending into the background as the teacher begins the lesson.