The only sound in Ogawa Fuzen's bedroom was the heaving of his lungs, his labored breathing was due in part to the severe decline in his health after his father died. Fuzen was sallow and gaunt. The contrast between his bloodshot eyes and the dark circles that lied under them was accentuated by his long pink hair. It did not go below the shoulders, or even too far down the neck, but was still messy and long. His bangs covered his eyes and his hands lay atop his exposed belly. Fuzen was immersed in his daily routine. Staring vacantly at the ceiling, while lying on his bed.

Fuzen's thoughts raged through his head as he laid there. Thoughts of the past, of his father, his mother, what life used to be like. Fuzen sighed, he hated thinking about the past, but that's all he could seem to do when he was alone. Every morning was a fight between Fuzen and his thoughts, and he would always lose. He didn't understand the purpose of getting up, he didn't feel the purpose of moving or eating. That was why, although there was plenty of food in the house, his skin stuck to his ribs. However, what he hated even more than moving was the thoughts in his head. They would whirl and whirl until he forced himself to do something else. 

Fuzen crawled out of bed and slowly made his way to the family bathroom. Just walking there was a trial in and of itself as trash was strewn all across the floor and trash bags piled up like sandbags throughout the house. He would have to watch his every step to make sure he didn't step on something sharp or disgusting. The other day he had stepped on what remained of some leftover rotten Omurice that had been left sitting in the hallway for God knows how long, and he would have emptied his guts on the spot if he had anything in him at the time.

The more he tip-toed through the hallway, the more annoyed he became. He wanted to throw all this trash straight to hell, but just the thought of cleaning up the refuse pit he called a house caused him to sigh. Before he got halfway there, he stopped to look at the only other door in the hallway besides his own. It was bejeweled and bedazzled. A big paper heart was taped to the door and the name 'Aiko' was written on it. 

Fuzen frowned, his sister Aiko was really the only family that he had left, but he really couldn't stand to be around her. She was still happy and preppy and loved to go to the supermarket to buy things. She would always volunteer to go. He shook his head, he couldn't understand how she kept being so happy especially since... Fuzen casts a glance at the heaps of trash in the house as he let his thoughts get away from him again. Just the thought of his little sister filled him with equal parts rage and guilt. She had stolen his mother from him eight years ago when she was born and his father always loved her more. Just the thought of it made him angry again, and he began to storm towards the bathroom. 

When he was younger, Fuzen always thought of himself to be like the protagonists of those animes he watched on TV. They were gentle and kind, and when a crisis came they would step up to take the helm and save the day. That caused a shiver to run down his spine. How naive, how foolish he had been. He was a kid that hoped to be a hero, what kid doesn't want that? Reality turned out to be different from fiction, and he was no hero. He pushed open the bathroom door as he reached the end of the hallway. Looking in the mirror, his face was dull and his eyes were empty. He vacantly stared at himself for some time before languidly grabbing the toothbrush and cleaning his teeth. He went to grab the mouth wash only to discover his was empty. 

He stared at the obstacle course that he called a hallway and let out another sigh. He shuffled his feet and headed towards the kitchen. The kitchen too was filled with garbage and the once stocked shelves had become barren. After a month of disuse, they were even filled with cobwebs. Fuzen opened the fridge, all that was it in aside from the fruits and lunch meat his sister had bought, was sake. He grabbed a bottle and poured some into his mouth. He began to swish it around as he headed back to the bathroom to spit. Sake was alcohol too right? As soon as he had cleaned his teeth, he headed back to his room to get dressed. He looked down at the sweatpants that he had worn the previous night and thought they were good enough, so he threw on the first shirt he grabbed from the now dirty clothes pile and went back to the kitchen. He grabbed the sake and began to drink. Fuzen didn't like thinking, and he didn't like doing, so everyday he chose the option of drinking. If he drank enough, he'd stop remembering altogether. He took his liquor to his room, sat down in his bed, and poured it down his throat.

By the time he finished the bottle, he had already collapsed on his bed. Unfortunately, today, the liquor wasn't strong enough, and he began to think. Fuzen was lonely, but not too lonely. He never had a lot of friends and those he did have were not very close to him. Fuzen was never an outgoing person, so he never talked much to anybody. When he dropped out of high school, not many people even bothered to know why, although part of that might have had to do with the fact that graduation was soon approaching. Fuzen closed his eyes and wished he could sleep. That was the only time he felt at peace. He wanted to close his eyes and forget about the world and never see it again, he just didn't have the courage.

 The only sound in Ogawa Fuzen's bedroom was the heaving of his lungs, his labored breathing was due in part to the severe decline in his health after his father died. Fuzen was sallow and gaunt. The contrast between his bloodshot eyes and the dark circles that lied under them was accentuated by his long pink hair. It did not go below the shoulders, or even too far down the neck, but was still messy and long. His bangs covered his eyes and his hands lay atop his exposed belly. Fuzen was immersed in his daily routine. Staring vacantly at the ceiling, while lying on his bed.

Fuzen's thoughts raged through his head as he laid there. Thoughts of the past, of his father, his mother, what life used to be like. Fuzen sighed, he hated thinking about the past, but that's all he could seem to do when he was alone. Every morning was a fight between Fuzen and his thoughts, and he would always lose. He didn't understand the purpose of getting up, he didn't feel the purpose of moving or eating. That was why, although there was plenty of food in the house, his skin stuck to his ribs. However, what he hated even more than moving was the thoughts in his head. They would whirl and whirl until he forced himself to do something else. 

Fuzen crawled out of bed and slowly made his way to the family bathroom. Just walking there was a trial in and of itself as trash was strewn all across the floor and trash bags piled up like sandbags throughout the house. He would have to watch his every step to make sure he didn't step on something sharp or disgusting. The other day he had stepped on what remained of some leftover rotten Omurice that had been left sitting in the hallway for God knows how long, and he would have emptied his guts on the spot if he had anything in him at the time.

The more he tip-toed through the hallway, the more annoyed he became. He wanted to throw all this trash straight to hell, but just the thought of cleaning up the refuse pit he called a house caused him to sigh. Before he got halfway there, he stopped to look at the only other door in the hallway besides his own. It was bejeweled and bedazzled. A big paper heart was taped to the door and the name 'Aiko' was written on it. 

Fuzen frowned, his sister Aiko was really the only family that he had left, but he really couldn't stand to be around her. She was still happy and preppy and loved to go to the supermarket to buy things. She would always volunteer to go. He shook his head, he couldn't understand how she kept being so happy especially since... Fuzen casts a glance at the heaps of trash in the house as he let his thoughts get away from him again. Just the thought of his little sister filled him with equal parts rage and guilt. She had stolen his mother from him eight years ago when she was born and his father always loved her more. Just the thought of it made him angry again, and he began to storm towards the bathroom. 

When he was younger, Fuzen always thought of himself to be like the protagonists of those animes he watched on TV. They were gentle and kind, and when a crisis came they would step up to take the helm and save the day. That caused a shiver to run down his spine. How naive, how foolish he had been. He was a kid that hoped to be a hero, what kid doesn't want that? Reality turned out to be different from fiction, and he was no hero. He pushed open the bathroom door as he reached the end of the hallway. Looking in the mirror, his face was dull and his eyes were empty. He vacantly stared at himself for some time before languidly grabbing the toothbrush and cleaning his teeth. He went to grab the mouth wash only to discover his was empty. 

He stared at the obstacle course that he called a hallway and let out another sigh. He shuffled his feet and headed towards the kitchen. The kitchen too was filled with garbage and the once stocked shelves had become barren. After a month of disuse, they were even filled with cobwebs. Fuzen opened the fridge, all that was it in aside from the fruits and lunch meat his sister had bought, was sake. He grabbed a bottle and poured some into his mouth. He began to swish it around as he headed back to the bathroom to spit. Sake was alcohol too right? As soon as he had cleaned his teeth, he headed back to his room to get dressed. He looked down at the sweatpants that he had worn the previous night and thought they were good enough, so he threw on the first shirt he grabbed from the now dirty clothes pile and went back to the kitchen. He grabbed the sake and began to drink. Fuzen didn't like thinking, and he didn't like doing, so everyday he chose the option of drinking. If he drank enough, he'd stop remembering altogether. He took his liquor to his room, sat down in his bed, and poured it down his throat.

By the time he finished the bottle, he had already collapsed on his bed. Unfortunately, today, the liquor wasn't strong enough, and he began to think. Fuzen was lonely, but not too lonely. He never had a lot of friends and those he did have were not very close to him. Fuzen was never an outgoing person, so he never talked much to anybody. When he dropped out of high school, not many people even bothered to know why, although part of that might have had to do with the fact that graduation was soon approaching. Fuzen closed his eyes and wished he could sleep. That was the only time he felt at peace. He wanted to close his eyes and forget about the world and never see it again, he just didn't have the courage.