Chapter Text
Nagi was a lonely kid.
It was likely because all the other kids in the orphanage were scared of him, pointing out his abnormal white hair, expressionless face, and ‘dead eyes’ that were void of life and soul. The adults weren’t better either, often forgetting about his existence.
He also had an unhealthy habit of napping through mealtimes, which meant that he would sometimes go days without eating. Nagi didn’t really mind being hungry, though–eating is a hassle. However, when the gnawing pain grew too much to bear, he would sneak into the woods beyond the orphanage, looking for food.
The forest was rumoured to be a fae boundary–they said that all the people who wandered too deep never returned to their families. Thus, the village was encircled by a sturdy wooden fence that prevented people from getting out.
None of that restricted Nagi, though.
He found that one of the weathered fence panels in the corner of the garden, hidden behind untamed bushes and crawling vines, was loose and gave way under the pressure of his small palms. It became the entrance to his own world, a place where he could forget the burden of living.
However, Nagi wasn’t stupid, so he never ventured where the grass slowly gave way to ferns and where trees hugged closer together. After all, there were plenty of small clearings and tree hollows for him to rest in near the perimeter of the woods, as well as a plethora of berries, mushrooms, and, if he was really hungry, leafy greens.
There was a lot of trial and error in the beginning, when he was just a small child looking for things to chew so he could stop the rumbling in his stomach. He would eat anything that seemed edible, which turned out to be not many things. After falling severely ill, spending a week bedridden with a high fever, and being punished by the caregivers, Nagi learned not to eat random things in the forest.
Coincidentally, the following day, he found himself in the library. There, he discovered books on botany and foraging, and learnt that instead of plucking the most vibrant buds or the longest weeds, he should look out for specific types of plants. The book was thick, a solid 300 pages of words Nagi could barely read, but it was full of potential snacks; so, it took Nagi minimal effort to memorise the long list of pictures, names, and their corresponding preparations.
From then on, all of his free time was spent in the woods. The sole exceptions were sleeping and, as he grew older, work.
Being one of the older boys in the orphanage meant he got all the jobs requiring manual labour. It was tiring, and the responsibilities kept piling up, meaning that by the time he was about to turn seventeen, he no longer had the pleasure of sleeping surrounded by the grounding scent of bark. Although there was now an opportunity to interact with his peers, Nagi still kept his distance, having never properly interacted with people.
So, it didn’t surprise him when he was framed for causing a large fire that burned down a portion of the local bakery. Furious, the caregivers kicked him out the next morning, leaving him without a place to stay. He tried to find a job, but word must’ve spread, as no one accepted him.
Nagi supposes this is what happens after so many years of alienation.
Ostrasized, he turned to the only place he ever called home, retreating to the comfort of the woods. Sneaking through the same passageway he used long ago, Nagi is comforted by the familiar sight of plush grass illuminated by silver moonbeams.
The night was still, mirroring his emotions as he ventured far past the treeline. Peering up at the sky, he notices brooding grey clouds that hold the promise of rain. His body aches, fatigued after a long day of job seeking, but he decides that he would rather stay dry and continues, dragging his feet through low-lying ferns.
Nagi walks further than he ever had, searching for a place that would keep him dry. In his focused state, he hardly notices when the air grows heavy and the forest turns silent. Only once he settles into a small cave does he realise: he’s gone too far.
Curling up on the dirty floor, Nagi sighs–he’ll deal with his problems tomorrow.
So, he surrenders to sleep, uncertain if he will wake to see his seventeenth birthday.