Chuuya Nakahara

Born and raised in a shitty and angry life. It's really all Chuuya knew. From the time he was six he was experiencing violence all around him. His father was a bastard drunkard, but it was no excuse for the things he did. His father would beat on his mother, scream at her, cut her to prove his point. He'd torture the farm animals for his amusement, make their basset hound sit on a nine inch nail every time he'd act up. He'd force Chuuya to work the field every time he could because he didn't want to waste money paying a farm hand. Living with him was absolute hell and Chuuya's defiant nature didn't help anything. His care for his mother and the animals pissed his father off to no end. When Chuuya tried helping his mother up after another one of his father's beatings, the still infuriated man threw him aside and stomped his chest repeatedly until his ribs were broken. Such conditions were not suitable for a child in the slightest.

Having to suffer the wrath of his father, he became resentful and untrusting of those around him. Chuuya had a nasty temper, hitting and fighting kids at school that pissed him off. There was a particular incident, one he could remember well, where this boy, seventeen or so, would constantly poke fun at him for having shit smelling clothes from having to clean the horse shit in the stables every morning. Chuuya would argue with him back and forth constantly, usually ending in one of them getting a black eye or several bruises. But this particular incident had nothing to do with Chuuya. The other kid was feeling up a freshman girl under the bleachers, laughing at her as she cried. He was caught and reprimanded by a teacher, but at the time, Chuuya had noticed it happening just as he had to leave so there was nothing he could do. The next day, in the hall, Chuuya held a pencil in a tight grip as he made his way to his next class. That same kid was at his locker. On his way by, Chuuya drove the pencil into the kid's thigh, causing the latter to cry out and collapse to the ground.

All this to say, Chuuya had a lot of pent up rage. He was a bomb with a single hair fuse. He carried this into adulthood, and while he learned to control it better, it was certainly still there. He went to become part of the army where he fought and had to kill many. It wasn't something he was proud of. He even witnessed the death of his close friend, of whom died due to artillery malfunction not more than ten feet away from Chuuya. He had to be taken to the medic so they could pull the bone shards of his dead friend out of his legs and stomach. It was a dark time period in his life, much more so than anything he experienced growing up.

By time his contract was up, he went back home to hear his father collapsed and died of liver failure. Likely due to drinking. It didn't move Chuuya at all. He wasn't happy nor upset, the man was already dead to him. His mother, however, experienced a terrible beating from him again before he died. One that left her brain damaged because he hit her head far too hard. Chuuya refused to let her become a vegetable. The woman never really mothered and protected him, but there was a small bond there. A deep seated understanding that came from being forced in the same position with eachother. A person like that, who shared his suffering caused by his father, was someone he wouldn't allow to rot away mindlessly. It's better to let her rest in death.

He did come home to some past friends, few who helped him out when he was particularly down on his luck when he was younger. They were people he trusted more than anyone, which is why there were so few.

A few months into being home, Chuuya had heard that another one of his friends had just gotten out of the hospital. She was in the hospital the whole time thus far he'd been back, which was quite worrying to hear. When he saw her again at a small get together he was at with his other friends, he immediately greeted her and went in to tossle her hair as he always did when they were younger. However, she recoiled. She apologized for her actions, but asked to not be touched. This was new. New and suspicious. Later that night, he questioned around with his other friends. She had been raped by a group of four men. It left her fucked up enough she was in the hospital. For months.

Chuuya left that night with a gun in hand and only one of the men's names. He stalked his house for days. It was out in the desert but it was a heat he was used to. He watched the man smoke a cigarette through the scope of his gun, he watched him leave in his truck to go to and from work. He watched him, wanting so badly to pull the trigger. But he kept hearing the voice of his old friend, the one he had to watch die, play repeatedly in his head.

"Pull that trigger you're no better than those we're here to deal with. We're not here to kill them, don't get provoked."

That wasn't quite what the situation was, of course, but it still taunted him. He can't just ignore the word of his friend like that. No, he mustn't.

The man got home that night but Chuuya had already put his gun away. Instead, he shoved the man into the shed behind his house. He pushed him to the ground without explanation and choked him to unconsciousness. He wouldn't kill him, but he couldn't let him simply live. While the man was out, Chuuya impromptu grabbed a U clamp off the ground of the shed and used power tools to screw it into the ground around the unconscious man's cock. He screwed it tight so the man wouldn't be able to pull it free no matter how hard he tried. He set a butter knife within reach and dumped a gasoline can out all around the interior of the shed. Chuuya took a moment to smoke a cigarette while the man came to again, confused and infuriated. Chuuya noted this, but didn't care to explain the reason for his actions. This man doesn't deserve an explanation. He tossed his lit cigarette onto the ground and then his lighter, the gasoline making the flames rise rapidly. He gestured to butter knife and the man's trapped cock,

"Feel free to cut yourself out at any time. Either that or burn."

With that, he left and closed the shed door behind him, leaving the man to either burn or sacrifice his manhood to live.

Looking back on his actions, he acknowledges his own wrong doing. The fact it probably wasn't right, but he felt no guilt. He only felt upset nobody knew the names of the other men who had violated his friend to the point of hospitalization. Hospitalization for months, no less.

Chuuya was in and out of work a lot, never able to maintain a steady job due to the issues others would cause with him. Eventually, Chuuya figured he wasn't quite right in the head. A particular friend encouraged him to seek help, said it might be some good for him. He didn't care for it, but he figured he ought to. Any help is good help, and who knows. Though, a therapist probably wouldn't do the trick. He admitted himself to a mental hospital, explaining througouly how he had no intent to stay there, but that he was seeking an evaluation of sorts. He explained his aggressive nature and blackout anger when questioned as to why he wished for the evaluation.

A kind woman took him to on of the rooms for the test. She chained him to a metal table, ensuring him it was simply for precaution due to the fact they get all sorts of individuals who come through there. Chuuya understood and allowed it without resistance. The woman left the room, and he was left alone. It was quiet, nothing in there but him chained to the table. A voice came on the intercom, hidden somewhere in the ceiling. It was the kind woman's voice, explaining the evaluation.

"We will be playing some audio and noting your reactions to it. All you have to do is sit and listen."

Chuuya listened to audios with relative indifference. Gunfire, dogs barking, a crying child. They were looking for his triggers, he realized. It was all fine and dandy until a particular audio came on. It was a young woman screaming, some deep voice of a man yelling at her and hitting her. Ah, there it is.

He's not entirely sure what happened next. He could recall flashes, breaking the metal table, ripping the chain holding him, some guards rushing in to grab him. It was all very faint, hard to grasp. He only calmed down again when the woman on the intercom softly reprimanded him.

Chuuya was told he broke the arm of one of the guards and deeply bruised the others in various places. He couldn't give a damn less, but he was told he'd either have to go to court for assault and damage of property, or sit a few months in the hospital so they could better evaluate him. He wasn't fond of either idea, but he wasn't about to spend for however long for this bullshit. He agreed to spend some time in the hospital, very reluctantly.

It was all about as much as he'd expected it to be. He was given times he'd be free to eat and wander specific parts of the facility under supervision, times he'd see a psychiatrist, and times he'd be able to simply sit in his room. Chuuya kept to himself in the hospital, not caring to interact with any of the others admitted there as well. Most of the time he was kept apart from the others anyways, as a safety precaution due to his outbursts.