Hello everyone, I am sorry for not updating last week. Unexpected things occurred and today an unfortunate event occurred that'll probably affect when the next update will be. Sorry for having the random schedule but eso si que es I suppose.

Please enjoy this chapter.
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"Shiro, what is it that you believe to be the most unobtainable thing you can think of?"

The gentle tapping of the pen on the clipboard echoed through the room as the woman stared down at the small boy quietly drawing on a sheet of printer paper with a pencil the woman in green provided him. The paper held the image of a chair and only a chair. It was so simple yet the emotion it held inside of it was terrifyingly overwhelming to the common person. A sense of alienation was the most common thing one could find them self feeling after taking a single glance at the paper.

The chair was sitting by itself surrounded by nothing but the white of the paper and the details of the chair made it seem so life-like it would make his own mother's skin crawl in fright. The second feeling person could get from the image was despair and helplessness. There were dark spots on the chair the boy would later tell the woman in green that were stains from the sins his father had committed. There were abrasions in the chair's arms where his nails had dug into many times over the years of psychological and physical torture he had endured with every touch and word the man of his nightmares had done or spoke.

The small boy with stitches stretching across his cheeks that ran over the bridge of his nose kept his head down with his black hair covering his grey eyes from the world. His hand moved with the stroke of his pencil as he added more and more details to the drawing causing him to twitch slightly now and then out of memories resurfacing.

"I'll ask you again Shiro, what is the most unattainable thing you can think of?" The woman in green asked as she tapped her pen on the clipboard.

The boy's hand stopped suddenly as he froze up and fell into the dreadful feeling of his memories. What was the most unattainable thing for him? There was a list that could stretch all the way to the moon with everything he could never have but there was only one number one spot on it. What was it that he thought to be the most unattainable thing to him?

"Happiness."

The woman in green let out a small sigh as she closed her eyes and set her pen down gently. It was always the same answer, wasn't it? The boy never changed his answer because he truly believed he could never find joy in the darkness of his father's shadow that kept it's claws of sin wrapped around his throat. It held him hostage and kept him from ever feeling the euphoria of a normal childhood.

"Why do you say that?"

The boy's eyes widened slightly as the memories of his father came flooding back to him all at once. His hands covered his ears to keep the many voices of that monster out and his eyes stayed wide open as tears slid down his cheeks out of fear of closing them because if he did, he would see that man's face again. He cried out in shock from it all; the memories were too much for a young child at his age to handle. The woman in green dropped down to the floor and began to try to ease the poor boy from his pain but it was useless as his throat became sore from his sobs.

"Takashi!" A voice jerked the tall boy from his memory as Shiro stood there staring at a normal wooden chair a few feet away from him.

He was standing in the kitchen of his house with a plate full of breakfast in his hands while his sober mother sat at the table with a stern look on her face as she stared at her son.

Shiro blinked and shook his head slightly as he sat down across from his mother. "S-sorry what did you say?" He asked as he looked up at the woman with greying hair and bags beneath her eyes.

His mother let out a small such as she shoveled a forkful of scrambled eggs into her mouth. "I said I'm going to be working late tonight and probably be home by six in the morning. You shouldn't stare off into space like that, it makes me worry that you're not taking your medicine."

"I stopped taking my medicine when I was fourteen mom," Shiro gave an awkward and shy smile to his mother as he took tiny bites of his food. "I haven't taken it since I finally managed to get my episodes under control."

"You were just staring at that chair Takashi," Shiro's mother pointed her fork at him and narrowed her eyes, "You were definitely remembering something unpleasant with the facial expression you had honey. I want you to get back on your meds before anything bad happens to you and-"

"I am fine mom," Shiro stated forcefully as he stabbed his pancake with a frown. He hated when she acted like this. She never cared until after the police tried to pry his small body away from her arms all those years ago.

The memory of her crying out in desperation as her nails scratched against his pale arms in order to get a grip on her child being dragged away by a police officer never failed to leave a sour taste in his mouth. She had always turned a blind eye to the signs of abuse he had shown throughout the time he had been tortured mentally and physically. Shiro's grades dropped and what did she do? She brushed it off as a rebellious attitude kids get towards their superiors but his guidance councilor wasn't that dense. She helped save Shiro from the pain he had endured for so long.

His mother lowered her gaze and swallowed down her mouthful of food slowly as she set her fork down and cleared her throat. "I suppose you know what is right for you, wouldn't you?" She whispered quietly to herself before she suddenly got out of her seat and began to hurriedly throw her uneaten food away. "Just promise me you'll take the medicine if your episodes start again... or call Doctor Jen."

Doctor Jen. Yes, the woman who had comforted him after asking him such damaging questions. She was someone he never wanted to see again even if she held a special place in his heart. Seeing her meant that he hadn't gotten any better.

"I promise."

The world was just full of empty promises, wasn't it? People promised other's one thing but do the exact opposite and pretend that their word never truly meant a thing. Politicians did it every day by promising the naïve citizens a future that anyone could fall in love with but when they deliver, it's something completely opposite of what they had promised. Everyone had their fingers crossed behind their backs, didn't they?

Shiro had given his mother an empty promise but it wouldn't matter in the end anyway. He would get help if he needed it because he was afraid. He was afraid of the memories coming back, he was afraid of being touched and remembering how his father had molested him, he was scared of the many pleasures of life like love. To experience any of these he would have to take his medicine again, wouldn't he?

Time ticked by as the sun moved its way across the sky in order to follow the quiet boy as he made his way to the place he always went to when he needed to be alone. Sure, he loved being at Allura's side but he had to help himself in his healing process and he couldn't do it if he only helped her. His brows furrowed slightly as he quietly pulled his hood on over his head. He remembered the days when he looked at the world through a pair of rose-tinted glasses. Everything was perfect, they had a nuclear-style family where his mother would stay home and bake all day with a radiant smile. His siblings were out playing in the yard being the girls they were while he and his father played catch behind their stereotypical white fence. They would even have the block come over every Friday for a grill out where all the neighbors had a good time and gossiped whilst sipping on their drink of choice.

All of that was ripped from Shiro's pathetic grip as his father pulled the rose tinted glasses from his face and crushed them beneath the heels of his boots. Shiro quietly came to a slow stop, dragging his feet reluctantly as he heard a quiet meow from the old abandoned trap house to his right. A long time ago, police had raided the place and arrested the owners for running a drug business and not long afterward no one came around due to the fact that the distributors had been arrested and imprisoned.

Now, it stood tall as a two-story house with windows broken by unsatisfied clients, teens trying to find a place to have a fling, and even squatters looking for a place to rest before they move on to their next destination. His grey eyes slowly peeled away from the cracked cement he stood on and squinted at the old home. He never liked it. It reminded him of his old home. They were both blue, they both had two levels, they even had (strong emphasis on had) a flower garden in the front yard. The only difference was that this home had a maroon door while his old home had a dark grey one.

He turned his body slightly and lifted his head up in order to listen for the pitiful sound once more. When Shiro didn't hear the sound of the cat again, he took in a deep breath and closed his eyes before he looked up to the gloomy sky above him. The clouds seemed to be so... restrictive. They closed him out from the bright blue sky behind them. He was taken by surprise when he heard the same, pathetic little cry from earlier coming from the home.

He didn't think twice as he quietly shuffled through the dead and dried out grass in the lawn and stepped onto the old, rickety-looking front porch where he then pushed the maroon door open carefully with his muscles tensed. The door squealed on its hinges as it revealed a sour smell from inside the abandoned home that made Shiro gag in disgust.

He covered his nose and mouth with his hand instinctively as he stepped inside the home, his eyes stinging from the intensity of the smell. He knew what the smell was; it was the smell of feces, rotting animals, leftover drugs, and even possibly another human being. He coughed a little as he looked around the front area, stepping over bricks that had fallen from the walls, old needles from when these crazy druggies would shoot up, and even paper bags that had spray paint on the inside of them.

He continued through the house eventually realizing that the cat's meow had come from the level above him. He was afraid that if he had touched the staircase's railing that he would pull his hand away to find a palm full of splinters and god knows what else. It didn't take more than two minutes before he found the source of those heart-wrenching cries.

In the upstairs bath, there was a blue plastic bag rustling as a kitten inside of it cried out for safety. Shiro's hand slowly fell from his face as he looked over his shoulder to see if anyone else was upstairs with him. When he saw no one else he rushed over to the bathtub and knelt down in order to begin carefully tearing the bag open so that he didn't cause any injury to the animal.

He had seen this plenty of times. People in the ghetto would often do this if they didn't have the money or time to care for newborn animals. They left them in places they prayed no living soul would venture into. However, Shiro wasn't going to turn a blind eye to this since he had a deep love for cats. As he ripped open the bag a little kitten with bright green eyes popped it's head out and clawed at his hand in fright.

"H-Hey!" Shiro pulled his hand back just in time to avoid the tiny claws. His eyes were just as wide as the black and white kitten's were. "I'm not going to hurt you..." Shiro said quietly as he reached forward to pull the kitten out of the bag only for it to nibble on his index finger in defiance.

It was skinny and on the brink of death and yet it was still struggling to survive in this cruel world. Its tail was broken and crooked giving Shiro the answer he had been looking for. The little kitten was left out to die because it was disfigured, it was different and the owner probably didn't have the money to help it. Shiro ignored the vicious little kitten biting his hand as he checked it over for any other signs of injury or even abuse but found nothing else besides a cut in the kitten's ear.

It would take up a lot of his savings he had set aside in case of an emergency but Shiro could help the small thing. He looked down at the kitten as he pulled it into his chest and smiled as it stopped biting him the moment they made eye contact.

"I won't let you die," he whispered.

Comment any questions/concerns/whatever in the comments and I'll get back to them if I have time.

-Anri