A Smile in the Dark

“Why do I never see you smile?”

Sasha often heard that sentence from many people during his time at the orphanage in Yaroslavl, just northeast of Moscow. He had grown up there after being abandoned by his birth parents, whom he concluded did not want him after learning he had problems related to vision and hearing as a toddler.

Born with bright green eyes that wanted to learn, despite all of his efforts in school Sasha could never quite catch up to what the teachers were saying. No matter how it was explained to him, no matter how much extra time was spent with him, he had struggled grasping even basic concepts. This, paired with his rather thin and short stature as well as his inability to hear or see to the same level as most other kids in his class, made him a target for teasing and bullying, so most of the time Sasha would try and spend time alone, eating outside of the lunchroom even when it was cold or raining. He’d skip lunch at school if it were snowing- Which was unfortunately common during Russian winters.

Everything in his younger life was rather structured. All the children were forced to have their hair cut relatively short for the purposes of maintaining cleanliness, and the donated clothes given to the children were often oversized, tattered and dirty. Most of his childhood days were scheduled out down to every thirty minute mark. Wake up and get dressed at 6:00 am. If it were Monday, Wednesday or Friday, he would get to shower with lukewarm water for a maximum of five minutes as well. By 6:30, finish eating breakfast. Leave for school at 7, start classes at 8, and finish school by 2. Return by 3 for a snack time until 3:30, supervised study until 4:30 for the younger kids and 5:30 for the older ones, dinner until 6, cleanup until around 7, a short time scheduled for gathering to listen to announcements until 7:30, then finally free time to read, watch TV, or play until it was time to get ready for bed at 9.

The lights were out by 10:00 pm, and some nights, in the top mattress of the bunk bed, Sasha would try smiling in the dark. Even if he couldn’t see what he looked like, he had to keep practicing. As he was told by others, he wouldn’t be adopted if he didn’t smile. He wouldn’t be considered cute if he didn’t smile. He wouldn’t be liked if he didn’t smile. But how could he always keep smiling? After all, Sasha didn’t feel like smiling when someone else he befriended suddenly was happy to be taken away to a new home. He didn’t feel like smiling when a family who was initially interested in adopting him, fostered him and realized he was a problem child before making some excuse and adopting another child instead. He didn’t feel like smiling when he felt like there was no real space for him on the planet. It just made the loneliness inside of him grow larger and larger.

But he continued to smile in the darkness, hoping that maybe by practicing he could get rid of his natural frown. Smile for his friends that would leave him to be lonely. Smile for the couples that would certainly reject him. Smile for the right to exist.

And while his efforts in school remained largely hopeless, perhaps some higher being found his efforts to be rewardable, as in his early preteens he suddenly shot up in height and developed more conventionally attractive features. He noticed peers who would previously snicker at him or push him around were suddenly willing to approach him more, especially girls in his class. The adults were somehow more patient and willing to teach him, and instead of him being looked down on, Sasha now towered over most of his female teachers at least. Instead of being called “nuisance”, “annoying”, or “problem child”, Sasha began hearing “slow”, “hardworking” and “shy”.

As a result of this, he was able to improve his studies. While not so much in math and science, he was somehow able to best even some of his more studious peers at subjects like literature and English language.

Finally, at the age of 13 Sasha was adopted into the Kutzenov family, an Ashuri family whom was planning to immigrate to America for a job offer and wanted a reliable son to look after their younger daughter. And in the span of a few short months, Sasha would be now known as Sasha Kutzenov, a Russian boy who was on the plane to a new and unfamiliar life in America.

The sudden free time and access to more material wealth was strange to him at first, but after a short period of hesitation, Sasha quickly grew into enjoying the freedoms of being uncontrolled by an orphanage. He grew out the short hair mandated by his orphanage, he dyed it platinum silver, and he especially enjoyed long showers on the daily with hot water. While his adoptive family wasn’t always perfect, he far preferred it to the structured dictatorship at the orphanage and did his best to help out around the house, learn American English properly, and make sure his new younger sister wasn’t having difficulties in school. He was also brought to an Ashuri school, to be caught up with all the teachings of receiving a curse mark, his soul weapon, elemental magic, and much more.

While it was much to take in all at once, Sasha appreciated that he was no longer disregarded as incompetent, and began enjoying especially fighting with other Ashuri, much to the discontent of his adoptive parents. Always smiling and doing his best to never be a foul sport, Sasha was quick to be liked by his peers especially considering his relatively good looks.

Spending a few relatively peaceful years with his family, it was unfortunately cut short one evening when he was 17. Sasha’s father, who usually enjoyed walking home from work on summer evenings, was taking somewhat longer than usual to return home. Sasha was sent out by his mother to look for him, only to find his father laying defeated on the ground, and a slayer in the process of consuming his father’s syoran. Rushing in to fight a slayer, with not much experience himself, Sasha was purely fueled by rage when he saw of one of the few people who had shown him genuine care, to be laying on the ground like that.

Whether by a stroke of luck or some innate skill, Sasha was able to trip up the slayer and defeat him, although not after sustaining rather major injuries. Taking the slayer’s syoran without second thought, Sasha proceeded to rush over to his father’s side to check for any major wounds- Only for reality to set in that the slayer had already consumed his father’s syoran, and as a result, now Sasha had his father’s syoran and all other weapons and syorans of the slayer’s.

The preparations and then the ceremony for the funeral were quickly set into place. While Sasha and his sister decided to stay longer in front of their father’s grave, his mother had left them to grieve on her own.

But under the darkening skies, in front of the grave of his adoptive father, Sasha’s sister had turned to look at him and glared in shock, calling out the facial expression that Sasha wasn’t even conscious of himself.

“Why are you smiling?”