Chapter Text
Hikaru was just an eleven-year-old boy, far too young to understand the nature of what he was experiencing. To him, it felt like an act of hurt, nothing more, nothing less.
He found himself forced into a horrifying situation, his heart pounding in his chest, a piercing agony filling his entire being. The weight on him was overwhelming, and though his skin felt cold, he was sweating profusely.
Pinned down and gasping for breath, he struggled against her grasp, but she was relentless. She covered his mouth, unintentionally revealing her eyes as her glasses fell. They were indistinguishable amidst her dark attire, except for those sparkling eyes that left an indelible mark on his memory.
An urgent feeling washed over him, an involuntary response he couldn't control. He felt suffocated, his last breath drawing nearer. The pain was unbearable, and as he closed his eyes, he made a goal he'll never forget.
...
He woke up, drenched in sweat, struggling to stand on weak legs. His body burned, and he realised it was his first time. He was still a child, unaware of the gravity of the situation. The event had left him disoriented, forgetting his whereabouts in the putrid back alley.
A familiar voice called out from behind him, his manager running towards him with dread in her voice.
"Hikaru! Hikaru," she repeated his name urgently. "Where were you? You left the set, and the director was furious, and..." She helped him up, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Are you okay? Why are you here? Answer me!"
"I-I got lost... yeah," he replied.
"Hikaru, I was so worried." She embraced him tightly.
"T-There's something I want to say."
She let go of him, her tone becoming serious. "We'll talk when the filming is over."
Hikaru knew it was all a facade. She never truly cared for him; it was all about the money. As an adult, she had been irresponsible, leaving a child unattended, and no child deserves such a fate, regardless of gender.
...
"What!?" His manager shouted, pacing in circles. "No, no, no... this can't be."
Hikaru remained silent, sitting in a corner seat, his confusion evident. He felt overwhelmed, his thoughts in chaos, trying to process the harrowing experience he had been through.
His manager's hands suddenly gripped his cheeks firmly. "Hikaru, I need you to listen to me... no matter the circumstances, you must never tell anyone about this."
Hikaru's parents had never cared for him; they had essentially sold him to the industry to pursue their own lives. He lived with his manager, but even there, he didn't receive the care he deserved.
"If you speak a word of this, your reputation will be ruined... you'd be better off dead." Her eyes were obscured by her hair, but Hikaru knew the fear in them, afraid of losing him.
"O-Ok," he replied, his innocence stolen and his humanity slipping away under the weight of his traumatic experiences.
Hikaru effectively lost his trust in adults, he saw them as greedy bastards, hypocrites, creatures with no remorse, selfish and liars. His movements and actions became erratic and unorthodox, he was not a child anymore, and somehow…
"Mr. Kamiki… you seem different," His director pointed out about the boy. "I like it."
They liked it more…
Years later, he grew smarter and more famous than ever before. Recently he learnt about what he experienced with that woman when he was eleven, it was sickening.
Nightmares haunt him ever since that very day, those eyes. He despised them, he wanted to paint them black. He looked in the mirror, he wasn't looking radiant like before, his eyes stopped glimmering with hope. He's nothing more but a white canvas painted black.
And as for the goal, the very driving force to continue, he already forgot about it. Let's just say that…
"I will make them suffer."
The damage had already been done.