Pulsation [Taboo]

A boy with messy blonde hair, piercing grey eyes, and a sharp toothed grin stood before Seiya, flanked by two others who blocked his path.

"What's the matter? You seem hesitant to sit with us. What's wrong? Do you think we're too filthy to mingle with?" The blonde-haired boy, who had just upended Seiya's food onto him, demanded with a stern voice, his brows drawn tightly together.

He was older and slightly taller than Seiya, though not by much.

Seiya hung his head low, his heart pounding nervously. He was no stranger to confrontations like this, yet the anxiety gnawed at him relentlessly.

"I'm talking to you. Speak up!" the boy barked, shoving Seiya and making him stumble back.

"Wearing decent clothes, expensive glasses, and keeping your distance—you must think of yourself as some god too pure to associate with dirt like us, huh?" The boy snatched Seiya's glasses and slammed them onto the ground, crushing them underfoot.

Seiya remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor, too intimidated to meet their eyes.

"You think we're disgusting? You're far more disgusting!"

The boy shoved Seiya to the ground, and his companions began to kick and hit him without mercy.

No one intervened—not the two women serving food, not the worker who had escorted Seiya, not the other children. They simply watched.

Until a boy who had been watching in silence, stepped up.

This boy, with spiky light blue hair, exuded a calm maturity. He appeared older than most of the children, carrying himself with a quiet authority.

"Eiro, that's enough," he said evenly.

The blonde boy, Eiro, hissed but eventually backed off, leading his group away.

The blue-haired boy glanced briefly at Seiya's crumpled figure before turning and walking back to his seat without another word.

Seiya lay on the floor, peering at them through the strands of his disheveled hair. Though without his glasses, he could barely see.

This was his first interaction with the other children, and it left him nauseated, his appetite gone. Yet his father's stern warnings echoed in his mind: Never skip a meal. Should you fall ill from neglecting your health, the children will pay with their lives.

With a quiet sigh, Seiya resolved to eat despite his turmoil.

The staff who had escorted him approached, suggesting he wash and change but Seiya refused.

"It's fine. I'll eat first" Seiya replied, forcing a small, polite smile trying his best to ignore the glares from every corner of the dining hall.

"Alright. Go get another plate. The cleaners will handle this mess" The worker handed him a handkerchief.

"Thank you," Seiya said warmly, feeling a flicker of solace from this small act of kindness, unaware of the deeper implications it carried.

He wiped his face, picked up his tray, and walked away to fetch another more meal.

---

In a dimly lit office, Seiya's father sat before a desk, multiple large screens displaying various parts of the facility. His eyes lingered on the dining hall feed, a broad smile spreading across his face.

"Everything is progressing as planned" came a female voice from the shadows.

"You're ruthless, even to your own child," the figure remarked, her tone laced with a mix of admiration and disdain. "To think you orchestrated all this–bringing him here, parading him as your son, isolating him in fine clothes so the other thinks he's special and resent him. All to make his life miserable, you're quite the father"

Seiya's father chuckled. "He must have been so eager to meet those children, only to face rejection and hatred. It's exquisite!"

"Ensure the plan remains flawless. He must always appear privileged in front of the others" he commanded, his tone sharp.

"As you wish, sir."

***

Day by day, Seiya endured torment beyond comprehension. His existence was a relentless cycle of agony with no respite.

From walking barefoot on spiked metal thorns to being nailed and crucified as a grotesque spectacle and some sort of mockery. He suffered immensely as his knees were nailed together. He was subjected to horrors unimaginable. 

Standing and watching as his skin gets cut with sharp objects—unallowed to scream or lose consciousness. 

Electrocuted at one point and even steeped in boiling water. Asked to lie down while a spiky metal the same size as his is pressed down on him till it buries into his flesh, sparing only his heart and head.

There was a time he was asked to walk into fire and burn. A time he was cut all over and laid in a pile of salt. A time his fingers were sewn together. A time he was asked to not sleep for a week with no food and many more unimaginable sufferings—all because they could heal him at the precise time before he dies.

Seiya was a vessel for pain and amusement—a living test subject, enduring every inhumane experiment without reprieve.

Three months came by. Seiya had grown slightly but remained timid.

He was summoned by his father to the usual lab looking room with equipment—only that this time, Seiya met face to face, the kids that were always kept at the other side of the room.

"You're here" his father greeted him warmly, his hand resting on the shoulder of one of the children.

The children, a group of eight, looked so pale with trembling bodies as they anticipated what would happen to them.

They're always subjected to painful experiments but never know what is in store for them, so they couldn't help but be wrapped in fear.

Seiya looked utterly confused seeing the children in the same space as him.

"Children.." Mr. Sanio began, his voice unnervingly kind "you have nothing to fear. You'll all leave here unharmed—as long as Seiya completes his task"

Seiya froze, his heart pounding in horror.

This had never happened before. The children had always been kept apart, unaware of their fate hinging on his actions.

It was hell that Seiya had to go through all that torture and agony to save them and his mother but it felt more hellish now that he's been faced with the same children who are now aware he's responsible whether or not they live—he couldn't help but fear.

"Really?" one child asked, hope flickering in their voice. "If Seiya succeeds, we won't be harmed?"

"Of course! You all get to go back safely should he perfectly carry out his task" Mr. Sanio assured them, his smile widening.

The kids, unaware of what Seiya's task embodied, lit up with cheering glee in their eyes, their fear melting into relief—the air around them that was filled with fear turned warm and colorful.

"You can do it, Seiya! Fighting, Seiya!" they cheered, their voices brimming with trust.

Seiya's heart raced, cold sweat drenching him. His breath quickened as he sank into a dark, suffocating dread.

He knew something was wrong. Every instinct screamed it. His father's calculated smile, the children's newfound hope—it all felt like a cruel setup.

Seiya knew their fate rested on his shoulders and for some reason, there was a tiny fragment within him that was glad the kids were kept away in darkness, oblivious to their fate resting on him. 

But it was different now. They know, they're cheering him on, they're expecting—all these weighed heavily on Seiya.

As the weight of their expectations bore down on him, Seiya felt himself spiraling into a suffocating darkness. He knew he was about to face the worst he's ever been subjected to.