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neko_kirin3104055. Straw Hat
Pair: Ohno/Sho
Prompt: 23 Straw Hat
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1114
Summary: There is a game that Satoshi loves to play...
Note: Just a little backstory...
Warning: character death [mentioned]
Series: Waku Waku Orphans
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11
When he was younger and had the room all to himself, he would wake up in the middle of the night and run circles around the bed, jumping over the cushions and ripping apart a pillow or two. His bedspread and blanket wouldn’t be spared either, much to Shibata-san’s distress the next day.
Sometimes he would be chasing wily bandits. Sometimes arrogant pirates who made the mistake of messing with him on land. Still other times, he would be up against the craziest villains in the strangest forms and with all the lousiest reasons for crossing his path.
He would be playing all night and all night he would be winning.
There was one incident though, back when he was seven and right after Aunt Matsuko died, when Shibata-san found him slumped on the floor, right beside the full length mirror in one corner of his room. His limbs limp, his head low, his face hidden beneath the wide brim of the straw hat he had once wheedled from Old Man Joshima.
“I am a scarecrow. Please take me out to the field,” he mumbled in a rather somber way that instantly grated at Shibata-san’s already touchy nerves.
“Oh-chan!” she shrieked, tapping the boy’s head hard enough to send the straw hat sailing to the floor. “What nonsense is this? Get up and go eat breakfast! NOW!” She stalked off to take care of the mess of feathers and shredded fabrics on the bed. “You’ve had enough fun! Now, I never understood why Matsuko would always just let you do whatever the hell you wanted to do, but I am not gonna be tolerating this anymore!” She sniffed, her voice cracking in poorly contained grief. “She’s no longer here and you’re just going to have to accept that!”
“I am a scarecrow. Please take me out to the field,” Satoshi said again, not once moving from his post.
“Oh-chan!” Shibata-san practically screamed now, marching back to his corner in breathless rage. “Get up and go eat breakfast, NOW!”
Satoshi did not even flinch, could not even feel his heart beating anymore, his voice calm and toneless as he recounted his sordid fate, “I was up against a wizard last night, and I got distracted and he made me like this.” He heard Shibata-san gasp, saw the old laundry woman drop to her knees beside him, heard her soft, muffled sob. “I am a scarecrow now, Shibata-san. Please take me out to the field.”
“Oh-chan! Stop it!” Shibata-san hissed under her breath, her trembling arms at once reaching out to pull Satoshi up to his feet. “Come on, dear, let’s get you to bed, all right.”
But Satoshi’s limp body just went limper and bent over backwards in Shibata-san’s arms, almost tipping the startled old woman off balance. “OH-CHAN! GOOD GOD! WHAT’S HAPPENED TO YOU?!” She tightened her arms around the drooping boy, supporting his head with one trembling hand as she struggled to drag him to the bed, screaming out, “HATORI-KUN! HATORI-KUN!” with every step.
Tamori-sensei didn’t find anything wrong with him. The man was a good doctor, if a little creepy with the omnipresent sunglasses, and had always been able to heal every ailing kid in the orphanage.
But there was really nothing much he could do for someone who wasn’t even sick in the first place.
“He’s acting out,” the good doctor said, his voice hushed like he was worried Satoshi might hear him and not take well to his words. “This is his way of coping with his grief over losing the one person who meant the world to him. The least we can do right now is to just let him be. Don’t mock him, don’t force him out of it. Just make sure that he’s properly hydrated and taken care of. He’ll snap out of it on his own, when he’s ready. Hopefully sooner than later.”
Shibata-san gripped Satoshi’s hand tighter, no longer muffling her sobs. To his other side Satoshi could vaguely just make out Headmaster Hatori, patting a handkerchief to the corner of his eyes. Miss Ayase was somewhere in the room, too. Along with the other Waku Waku adults who came rushing in to check on him.
He could see them all, feel them all, even smell the familiar scents he had already associated with some of them: wet soil from Old Man Joshima, pepper and paprika from Miss Ayase, freshly cut wood from Okada-sensei and a hint of animal manure from the groundskeeper Nakai...
Satoshi was there. Satoshi was aware.
But Satoshi just didn’t care anymore.
“I am a scarecrow. Please take me out to the field... Please take me out to the field...”
It was on a rainy night, three days later when Satoshi finally opened his eyes to the reality he could no longer keep at bay.
And Headmaster Hatori was there to hold him through it all. Just like the way Aunt Matsuko used to do whenever he woke up screaming from every bad dream that haunted his sleep.
But this wasn’t a dream anymore. Every nightmare he’d ever had was a lot better than this.
“It’s my fault,” he sobbed, burying his face in the headmaster’s armpit. “It’s my fault, Hatori-san! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
“No, Oh-chan...” Headmaster Hatori rubbed his back and shushed at him to calm down. “It’s nobody’s fault. It’s nobody’s fault.”
They kept telling him this, over and over, on many different occasions and in many different ways.
Yet, he kept blaming himself anyway.
And on the 7th day of every month, the day that Aunt Matsuko died, he would slump in that very same corner and shut himself down for one full day.
All the other kids had come to call it, Oh-chan’s Scarecrow Day.
And every month, they had all had the foresight to stay as far away from his room as possible whenever he was in this wretched state.
The first time this happened after Sho came to share his room, he had so freaked the boy out that he ended up laughing himself out of his self-induced trance.
Sho had hugged him tight then. So, so tight that it just pulled him right back out.
“Satoshi-kun, you jerk!” Sho sniffled against his neck. “You scared me! You scared me! Don’t you dare do that again, okay?”
And he just found himself wrapping his arms around the boy in return.
And pulling the boy closer.
And burying his face into the boy’s neck. “Okay...”
That was the last time he had ever played The Scarecrow.
It was also the first time the Scarecrow had ever truly smiled.
Next>>>>>
Pair: Ohno/Sho
Prompt: 23 Straw Hat
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1114
Summary: There is a game that Satoshi loves to play...
Note: Just a little backstory...
Warning: character death [mentioned]
Series: Waku Waku Orphans
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11
Satoshi used to love playing Make Believe.
When he was younger and had the room all to himself, he would wake up in the middle of the night and run circles around the bed, jumping over the cushions and ripping apart a pillow or two. His bedspread and blanket wouldn’t be spared either, much to Shibata-san’s distress the next day.
Sometimes he would be chasing wily bandits. Sometimes arrogant pirates who made the mistake of messing with him on land. Still other times, he would be up against the craziest villains in the strangest forms and with all the lousiest reasons for crossing his path.
He would be playing all night and all night he would be winning.
There was one incident though, back when he was seven and right after Aunt Matsuko died, when Shibata-san found him slumped on the floor, right beside the full length mirror in one corner of his room. His limbs limp, his head low, his face hidden beneath the wide brim of the straw hat he had once wheedled from Old Man Joshima.
“I am a scarecrow. Please take me out to the field,” he mumbled in a rather somber way that instantly grated at Shibata-san’s already touchy nerves.
“Oh-chan!” she shrieked, tapping the boy’s head hard enough to send the straw hat sailing to the floor. “What nonsense is this? Get up and go eat breakfast! NOW!” She stalked off to take care of the mess of feathers and shredded fabrics on the bed. “You’ve had enough fun! Now, I never understood why Matsuko would always just let you do whatever the hell you wanted to do, but I am not gonna be tolerating this anymore!” She sniffed, her voice cracking in poorly contained grief. “She’s no longer here and you’re just going to have to accept that!”
“I am a scarecrow. Please take me out to the field,” Satoshi said again, not once moving from his post.
“Oh-chan!” Shibata-san practically screamed now, marching back to his corner in breathless rage. “Get up and go eat breakfast, NOW!”
Satoshi did not even flinch, could not even feel his heart beating anymore, his voice calm and toneless as he recounted his sordid fate, “I was up against a wizard last night, and I got distracted and he made me like this.” He heard Shibata-san gasp, saw the old laundry woman drop to her knees beside him, heard her soft, muffled sob. “I am a scarecrow now, Shibata-san. Please take me out to the field.”
“Oh-chan! Stop it!” Shibata-san hissed under her breath, her trembling arms at once reaching out to pull Satoshi up to his feet. “Come on, dear, let’s get you to bed, all right.”
But Satoshi’s limp body just went limper and bent over backwards in Shibata-san’s arms, almost tipping the startled old woman off balance. “OH-CHAN! GOOD GOD! WHAT’S HAPPENED TO YOU?!” She tightened her arms around the drooping boy, supporting his head with one trembling hand as she struggled to drag him to the bed, screaming out, “HATORI-KUN! HATORI-KUN!” with every step.
Tamori-sensei didn’t find anything wrong with him. The man was a good doctor, if a little creepy with the omnipresent sunglasses, and had always been able to heal every ailing kid in the orphanage.
But there was really nothing much he could do for someone who wasn’t even sick in the first place.
“He’s acting out,” the good doctor said, his voice hushed like he was worried Satoshi might hear him and not take well to his words. “This is his way of coping with his grief over losing the one person who meant the world to him. The least we can do right now is to just let him be. Don’t mock him, don’t force him out of it. Just make sure that he’s properly hydrated and taken care of. He’ll snap out of it on his own, when he’s ready. Hopefully sooner than later.”
Shibata-san gripped Satoshi’s hand tighter, no longer muffling her sobs. To his other side Satoshi could vaguely just make out Headmaster Hatori, patting a handkerchief to the corner of his eyes. Miss Ayase was somewhere in the room, too. Along with the other Waku Waku adults who came rushing in to check on him.
He could see them all, feel them all, even smell the familiar scents he had already associated with some of them: wet soil from Old Man Joshima, pepper and paprika from Miss Ayase, freshly cut wood from Okada-sensei and a hint of animal manure from the groundskeeper Nakai...
Satoshi was there. Satoshi was aware.
But Satoshi just didn’t care anymore.
“I am a scarecrow. Please take me out to the field... Please take me out to the field...”
+++
It was on a rainy night, three days later when Satoshi finally opened his eyes to the reality he could no longer keep at bay.
And Headmaster Hatori was there to hold him through it all. Just like the way Aunt Matsuko used to do whenever he woke up screaming from every bad dream that haunted his sleep.
But this wasn’t a dream anymore. Every nightmare he’d ever had was a lot better than this.
“It’s my fault,” he sobbed, burying his face in the headmaster’s armpit. “It’s my fault, Hatori-san! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
“No, Oh-chan...” Headmaster Hatori rubbed his back and shushed at him to calm down. “It’s nobody’s fault. It’s nobody’s fault.”
They kept telling him this, over and over, on many different occasions and in many different ways.
Yet, he kept blaming himself anyway.
And on the 7th day of every month, the day that Aunt Matsuko died, he would slump in that very same corner and shut himself down for one full day.
All the other kids had come to call it, Oh-chan’s Scarecrow Day.
And every month, they had all had the foresight to stay as far away from his room as possible whenever he was in this wretched state.
+++
The first time this happened after Sho came to share his room, he had so freaked the boy out that he ended up laughing himself out of his self-induced trance.
Sho had hugged him tight then. So, so tight that it just pulled him right back out.
“Satoshi-kun, you jerk!” Sho sniffled against his neck. “You scared me! You scared me! Don’t you dare do that again, okay?”
And he just found himself wrapping his arms around the boy in return.
And pulling the boy closer.
And burying his face into the boy’s neck. “Okay...”
That was the last time he had ever played The Scarecrow.
It was also the first time the Scarecrow had ever truly smiled.
Next>>>>>
