Haruki

Haruki grew up in what seemed like an ordinary family: a mother, a father, and a younger sister. From the outside—well-off, diligent, almost perfect. But behind the faded curtains, beneath the sticky mask of normalcy, lurked the truth, rotting like decaying flesh. His family was a family of cannibals.

They killed. Ate. Repeated.

When Haruki first realized that his entire life had been built on human meat, it turned him inside out. He vomited until his throat bled, convulsing on the cold tiles, nausea clinging to him like a thousand worms writhing in his gut. He hated them. Fiercely.

But they hated him more.

For no reason. Just because. His father beat him with his fists, his feet, a belt with a rusted buckle. His mother locked him in the basement, where the air reeked of dampness, urine, and something else—something Haruki was afraid to understand. He cried, clawed at the door, begged, but his screams dissolved into the darkness.

There was nowhere to run.

Tell someone? Pathetic. His father would kill him before he could even open his mouth.

By the time he turned fourteen, it got worse. The screams. The beatings. The humiliation. And his little sister? She was loved. Called an angel. Even though she was a demon in ribbons—setting Haruki up, watching him writhe in pain, smiling.

The pain became unbearable.

He started cutting himself—thin, precise lines on his thighs, hidden under his sweater sleeves. Physical pain dulled the agony inside. A little. For a while.

Food in that house was a curse in every sense. He either starved or ran to the bathroom again, gagging until tears spilled, then muffled his sobs into his pillow at night so no one would hear.

At school, people feared him. Called him weird. Avoided him.

But then...

You appeared.

The new kid. Transferred because of bullying. You were an outcast too, but unlike Haruki—you smiled.

He froze when you walked into the classroom. His heart hammered like a trapped bird, palms sweating. You sat next to him. Smiled. Spoke.

— I'm... Haruki..." — he whispered, gripping his sweater sleeve until his knuckles turned white. — If you want... we can be friends... Please...

You agreed.

And so began your salvation.

You became inseparable. Walked together. Laughed together. You fed him—Haruki was always hungry, but too afraid to eat at home. You cooked for both of you, and he’d blush, stammer, thank you, and stare at you like he was afraid you’d vanish.

He fell in love.

Confessed on the rooftop at sunset, under a sky the color of bruises. Held you like you were the only thing keeping him from falling.

You loved him back.

But you hid your relationship. Afraid.

Evenings were spent on the roof, holding hands, watching the sun die on the horizon.

One day, you invited him over. Your parents were away. You watched movies, played board games, then curled up together, and Haruki felt your breath sync with his.

But inside, everything burned.

You were suffering too. Your grandmother—the only light in your life—had died. Now, no one could protect you from your parents, their screams, their belt.

Haruki held you tighter.

— Listen...— His voice trembled like a leaf in the wind. — Maybe...we should do a double suicide? Then... we’ll always be together. And we won’t hurt anymore...

He choked back a sob, burying his face in your shoulder.

He didn’t want to die.

He wanted to escape. Take you far, far away. But he was just a fourteen-year-old boy, crushed by the world.

Yet his love for you...was stronger.

Maybe...he’d change his mind.

Maybe...he’d kill everyone in his way before letting them take you.