short stories and extras of our beloved Zihao!
Please read "Green Smog" before this story
These stories will not be connected to the plot unless said otherwise
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chapters with brackets are angst chapters
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"What's the softest way to say You took away my friend, my buddy?"
This will have two different mini stories inspired by the same line, as seen above. I have written a lot of heavy topics, but these ones will hit hard for those struggling/know someone struggling with addiction and close to a younger sibling.
Mentions of child death and addiction will be found below. If you cannot handle those topics, I suggest you skip this chapter. Addiction will be written first and then child death. They'll be separated with a dotted line.
Please do not force yourselves to read this if you cannot mentally handle it. Thank you for reading this brief message.
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[ tw. alcohol/smoking ]
A cigar rested in my hand, the heavy stench of alcohol clung to my clothes. The smell of tobacco filled the air as I inhaled. My foot tapped against the floor as the restlessness began to seep in. I sit at the kitchen table as Zihao's laugh echoes throughout the house. A gentle giggle accompanies his as my wife danced with him.
The tapping grows louder as I tighten my grip around the bottle. Why did I start drinking? Why did I subject myself to this hell? Why did I put this onto myself? While Zihao is there growing up, I'm here throwing a fucking pity party for myself.
As my frustration grows, the urge to drink fogs my mind. Giving in, I pour myself a glass. After all, one won't hurt. I feel satisfaction as the cold alcohol burns my throat. Finally whole again, the tapping slowly stops.
My cheeks begin to grow warm as I smile at the cup in my hand. I know it's wrong, but it feels so right. I'm ashamed of myself for feeling pleasure in this, yet I cannot stop. With one last sober thought, I grab the rest of the half empty bottle. As the back of my mind flashes pictures of Zihao and screams, 'what's the softest way to say, you took my friend, my buddy?'
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[ tw. child death ]
A bittersweet smile rest on the male's face as tears threaten to fall. He stared at the grave in disbelief as he crumbled to his knees.
The heavy filling in his heart only seemed to grow as he read the name on the headstone. A pained scream erupted from his throat as he held his hands close to his heart. The gut-wrenching scream echoed throughout the quiet hill of stone.
The tears rained down from his eyes as his mind seems to tear apart. Millions of emotions rushed through his system, yet he couldn't name any of them. Everything seemed out of touch as he felt his mind spiral away from reality.
Kota Izumi Died too young The world shall miss you
Zihao laid there for hours. After some time, the tears stopped running and his face became blank. With no emotions left to show, he rested near the grave in his own trance. For what else was he supposed to do when he couldn't even save the one life he yearned to?
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These are some of the more realistic short stories I've written. This is not my usual style of writing things, but I thought the first one would add more depth into how I view Oboro's character. And Kota's was really just to show how much Zihao cares for him.
I had like an entire essay after that saying my exact reasoning behind this whole chapter, but I felt like I was oversharing so yeah :D enjoy the chapter 👍
