Chapter 8: 6TH FIGHT: IRON-BLOODED ORPHANS

6th FIGHT: IRON-BLOODED ORPHANS

-XOXOXOX-

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-XOXOXOX-

"Get back here 'ya fuckin' shitty brats!"

In the bleak orange afternoon outside of the Tokita Ward, your average random act of burglary was in full swing.

Chasing three children running away with a briefcase throughout the almost endless suspicious-looking alleyways, the older man ran as if his life depended on it.

While he was by no means slacking off on this fine afternoon that those three children snuck up on him and ambushed him, and he wasn't injured severely, if he were to return empty-handed after they had stolen the briefcase he was supposed to hand to his boss…

-Then soon enough, he just might be.

And it was quite sudden too. The first one, a thin and wiry-looking boy whose bones could be seen just by looking at him with black hair obscuring his eyes had been pestering him non-stop with silly and inane questions. And as soon as he went to shoo the kid off, he felt that something was amiss.

Suddenly ducking, he was almost struck with the end of a metal bat that had nearly connected smack-dab in the back of his head.

Luckily enough it had missed slightly, though he was still grazed with the end of the bat. This time it was by a kid with spiky black hair and a jagged scar across his cheek, followed by a small figure wrapped in cloth who simply took the briefcase and fled.

Stumbling a bit, the man managed to regain his balance before chasing after them, thankful that it had missed, yet furious as it meant that he would've 'really' been in 'deep waters', knowing that if it had fully connected it would've been truly unfortunate for him.

'A small mistake. No, a huge fuck-up in the making.' The man believed it to be, putting more pep into his step before the three little figures began to grow more and more distant.

'This was supposed to be my big day' The man thought. A seemingly 'simple' delivery mission would've put him in the good books for the boss, and then he would be able to make even more money as he rose up the ranks.

'The money, drugs, women… I can literally see them in the future… In the palm of my hands! But It's all gonna go far away if I don't get that damned briefcase!'

'And boy, if the boss finds out that I've lost it…'

'Those damned brats! How could they!'- The enraged expression the man wore only grew more in intensity as the man imagined the sheer magnitude of the punishment he would receive for failing this task.

'One or two fingers surely won't be enough…'

"Faster, don't slow down just yet!" The cloaked figure carrying the briefcase exclaimed.

"Don't gotta say that twice, I'm out!" Smiling, the boy with the spiky hair nudged the seemingly shy boy, "Yo, pick up the pace, we gotta go!"

Putting even more effort into his run, the shy-looking lad started to speed up as he stuttered out. "Y-yes!"

As the man gave chase, he tried to pull out his firearm, deciding that it was either their life or his before coming to another… rather grim realization.

"W-what!? Not the gun too!?"

Twisting and turning through even more alleyways, the three were like acrobats of the highest caliber as they leveraged and jumped over fences, and trash cans while keeping up their brisk pace.

"!"

-And as for the unnamed thug…

"Ku-uwaaaargh-!"

He seemed to have been an acrobat of a not-so-high caliber, perhaps hailing from the clown school of slap-stick comedy, as eventually due to gassing out from a lack of stamina the thug took a grave misstep on the street's unmaintained pavement, slipping and falling face-first.

It wasn't too damaging for his health though, but as the faint sounds of giggling grew further and further away, the thug began to boil with anger that nearly made his face the same color as his bloody nose.

"Fuckin' wait, damniiiiiiiit-!" The thug roared in vain at the escaping children.

Giving chase once more the thug stops dead in his tracks as he realized the whereabouts of which the kids had entered into

-Tokita Ward, The Inside.

From what he heard from his superiors, it was a messed up place that was located somewhere within Tokyo dating way back to the 1950s.

-But that wasn't important to him.

The important part was that 'The Inside' was a lawless place where even the Yakuza had to watch their steps, and if he'd screw around with the locals and get offed inside this place, then there was no helping him.

Dropping to the ground panting the man closed his eyes as he started to aggressively scratch his head. "Ah damn it! I'm in some serious shit…"

-XOXOXOX-

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-XOXOXOX-

After several minutes of nonstop running, the three children finally entered one of the streets they were very familiar with.

And yes, while it housed all of the same depressingly dull grey buildings, junkies, thugs, and prostitutes that most other streets within The Inside possessed, to the locals and the three children, there existed an added bonus for this place; in fact, the only reason one would even bother to come in the first place.

-It was a pawn shop.

Albeit smaller than many of the tall buildings lining the land, only standing a single story at most, It was a somewhat 'special' shop commonly manned by an old man, that contained many goods from canned and bottled food items, to other nondescript trinkets that people may catch a liking to.

Nevertheless, it was an incredibly useful place for the random children and orphans hoping to trade something for a potential meal.

What they wanted was, of course, something to eat as the other ways of receiving nourishment for random orphans in this place required either stealing, fighting, and the other option…

-Well… Required a little bit more 'give' and 'take' per se, more along certain adults' sinister lines of carnal 'give' for the children to which they would 'take', in exchange for monetary gain.

-This, in fact, tended not to bode well for many of the unfortunate children within The Inside.

Cautiously walking forward even though the residents of this street were disinterested in them, not even sparing them a single glance their way, the three children headed towards the store with brisk steps.

"Ummn, B-Big sis… T-this place is?" The shy boy stuttered.

This child with his hair nearly hiding away both eyes was a real meek soul, and it had amazed the other two children to no end on how the boy had managed to survive in such a place, and for so long at that.

Without turning the face the shy boy, the cloaked figure answered "Yes it is, Kouta. This is the place we go to get some stuff sometimes." Seemingly calm and stoic, the little shrouded figure had spoken with a rather faint, yet firm voice. "You might not have been here before, but Kaito and I have many times before."

"Yup! Ain't nothing too special 'bout this place, but nobody's complaining!" The rowdy boy with a scar on his cheek named Kaito exclaimed. He and the meek Kouta were not only brothers, but fraternal twins at that as they didn't look similar at all.

"Hmmn? It's still open, and there's someone inside there as well… Let's go Kouta, Kaito." The little cloaked figure said, briskly trotting forward.

Looking at the door, the three could still see that it was business hours, so wasting no more time, they headed inside.

"Y-yes!"/ "Gotcha!" The two boys quickly replied, hurriedly chasing after the small cloaked figure.

-CREAK-

Opening the door, its rusted hinges give a sharp creak as the three enter the shop, beginning to look around.

As the familiar sight of the disorganized messy interior of the shop filled their eyes, the three children gazed at the long ebony counter that separated the customers and the shop's owner where they spotted the owner of the shop conversing with a young boy of similar age as the trio dumping a briefcase filled with miscellaneous items onto the counter.

"You've really brought in quite the haul as usual, eh?" The old man muttered, his voice deep and croaky as he spoke in an awfully dry manner.

"?"

Looking towards the newcomers, the old man raised his eyebrows as he scanned them with an inquisitive glance. "Ah, you two… I see you've brought a new face as well, heh?"

"Sup', Old Man!" Cheekily grinning, Kaito waved while the other two just simply nodded at the old man.

"Hmmn. I see you. Wait till I'm done with this boy here." The old man said.

"?"

Possibly not a day older than thirteen, the boy in front of them had wild seaweed-like black hair almost obscuring the menacing glare in his black eyes as he wore a tank top and ragged short pants. With two knife holsters strapped to the side of his body, one could tell by looking down at the calluses on his hand that he looks to be quite good at using them.

Glaring slightly at the three kids, the seaweed-haired boy was about to look away before he locked eyes with the boy with the cheek scar. Whatever it was that they saw, whether they mean glare or the challenging stare…

-Neither of the two liked it.

"What? Whaddya want?" Kaito brusquely asked, though it might've come off as more provocative than inquisitive.

"…"

"Fuck off." Snarling at the cheek-scarred boy, the seaweed-haired lad grunted.

-STARE-

As it seemed as if the tension would slowly rise, it was interrupted by the sternest tone the old man could've mustered with his croaky voice.

"Not in here you won't, go take it outside if you have to fight."

"…"

Sensing a small glare directed at him from the little figure cloaked in rags, Kaito unwillingly decided to let it go, harrumphing as he tore his gaze away from the boy in front of him, to whom the seaweed-haired boy just ignored him, focusing his attention once again on the pawn shop's counter.

Rummaging through the briefcase filled with documents, files, wads of cash, and a single firearm, the old man had briefly gone to the back of the room before returning with his hands filled with different items.

The old man had been running this shop for a long time, so the idea of people bringing in some 'suspicious' stuff wasn't too foreign to him.

Nevertheless, people had to eat to survive, and the same went for everybody, not just him, so he couldn't be too picky about what his customers brought here, especially judging by where they all lived.

What he would have to do, however, was to make sure that whoever it was that had items stolen from them wouldn't someday turn their sights at him bearing ill intentions.

"Well… Here's what I can offer you in return. Come back if you find some more good stuff." The old man said, resting a bag filled with canned goods and other necessities upon the store's counter.

"Hmmn." Rustling through the bag, the seaweed-haired boy glanced at a can of soda pop he held in his hands before silently slinging the bag over his shoulder and walking towards the exit, but before he leaves he is stopped by the old man's voice calling out to him.

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"Hey. I hear you been working a lot on 'The Outside' these days…" The old man spoke.

The Outside. It was a colloquial term used by the residents of The Inside that simply meant anywhere 'Outside' of the run-down hellhole they lived in. It was popular amongst the residents for being a place with 'lucrative' opportunities, added with the fact that someone who would've left The Inside would be said to have 'made it' somewhat in life.

Turning to face the old man, the seaweed-haired boy stared at him whilst the other three children perked their ears up, listening in to what the old man had wanted to say.

"Now that's fine and all if you're up for it… But if you wanna live long, I suggest you better try to keep a low profile…"

"This goes for you three as well; if you catch too much attention meddling over there… then the only thing waiting for you from The Outside is an early death…"

It was your common cautionary tale told to the hotshots that moved all kinds of 'weight' around in and out The Inside.

'Shine too violently, and you'll irritate the eyes of those who are used to living in the dark. And once you've done that…'

'Then your 'light' will be snuffed out.'

But to the kid with the seaweed hair, he couldn't be bothered to care.

"…"

"Hmph. Mind your own business, old man." The seaweed-haired boy spat, swiftly exiting the shop.

To the boy, it wasn't anyone's business whether he lives or dies, because life itself was all the same for him.

'Steal, eat, and survive. That's all there is to it. If I die, then I die. Nothing more, nothing less.' The seaweed-haired boy thought.

"..."

Gazing at the closed door after the seaweed-haired boy had left; Kaito couldn't help but shake his head. He didn't want to agree with him, but he couldn't disagree with him either. Such acts of preservation only served to extend their life expectancy by a little, as even if one were to be careful, their life would still be endangered at the drop of a hat.

In his head, even if they had successful 'outings' and ran back into The Inside, his mind would still wander on one little slight, almost minuscule possibility.

-The possibility that if those Yakuza were truly serious about it, they could just enter The Inside and get rid of those little rats.

Sure, it wouldn't be easy finding a specific bunch of homeless orphan brats, but if a young child could think of an idea like that, then what's stopping a group of fully grown adults from doing the same, but to a greater degree?

Besides, who would stop the Yakuza from offing a bunch of no-name brats in the slums? And If so, then what would they hope to gain from it?

"!?"

Being nudged by the small figure wrapped up in a cloak, Kaito snapped out of his internal musings, quickly finishing the business the trio had arrived for, which was to trade goods.

"O-Oh Yeah, here's what we got today, old man!"

Leaving the pawnshop later on with two bags filled with a variety of goods, they swiftly made their way to the southernmost section of the Tokita Ward, a place as desolate just like the others, but a place they called home nonetheless.

Fellow orphans, druggies, prostitutes, thugs, and cold unmoving bodies lying on the ground. For the young boy following the two children in front of him, these sights were all too common to him by now.

But was there something else? Could there 'be' something else? Other than day-in and day-out of endless violence and struggle? The boy didn't know, and at this rate, he felt like he would never know.

Thinking back to the furthest his memory took him, it's always been about the desperate struggle he had trying to survive day to day, and even though he was now with those two near him, the amount of danger hadn't decreased by one bit-

-No. If anything, the amount of danger had increased over the years.

Staring at the desolate night sky, Kaito couldn't help but wonder about his future…

'What next? I'm not gonna haf'ta do this for the rest of my life, right?'

-XOXOXOX-

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-? COURTYARD-

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-Red.

-A Very Bloody Red.

It was the color that had coated almost everywhere within the courtyard.

It had dyed not only the once pristine pure white walls, but also the sharp and clean marble statues, the bodies that lay unmoving on the ground, and everything else that it could splatter itself over with its violent ruby sheen.

As the pungent smell of Iron and Sulphur arose, the scenery left in its wake was purely the result of unabashed violence; violence at such a high level that one would assume that whatever had caused a mess through the manor would be anything but human.

A 'beast'. Or at most, something purely 'inhuman'.

Weirdly enough, there had seemed to be a sole survivor amidst what had occurred to be a callous massacre, and a single little boy at that to be exact.

Struggling to move even an inch, the brown-eyed boy had carried multiple bruises and cuts on his body as he attempted to drag himself out of the area, having to resort to pulling his upper body forward since even the act of crawling was too strenuous for his thoroughly battered physique.

And as time-consuming as it may be, after a while, his labor had finally borne fruit.

'Exiting the premise wouldn't be so hard after all' The brown-eyed boy thought.

And once he was nearly out of the compound, he could've sworn that things were just starting to look up for him…

-That was until he saw 'that' of course.

-Did it have the face of a beast? Or was it a devil?

The boy didn't know, but what he did know is that whoever it was standing before him; that he didn't like him whatsoever.

That tall, familiar fiery-haired figure that only emanated an aura of pure animalistic violence, leaving carnage in its path without care nor concern had reared its ugly head again.

"Hehe…"

Struggling to lift his head to better see the man in front of him, let alone stay conscious, the boy heard a sharp, brash sound that seemed to pierce his eardrums.

"Gwahahahaha-!"

-It was laughter.

The figure, no, the man was laughing whole-heartedly, but what was he laughing at? And why?

"Gwahahahahaha-!"

It was an uncomfortably deep pitch that reverberated within his ears and seemed to shake his very soul as it bounced around in the manor, also causing other items within to shake and vibrate as well.

'Y-you bastard… What's so funny? Stop… laughing…'

'Stop it.' He wanted to say.

Glaring at the beast of a man with utter hatred, he had wanted to say and do many things that were violent in nature to him, but alas, at this very moment such ideas would never be realized, as the boy not only had no strength to speak but his consciousness was slowly fading away, slipping out of his grasp like a slippery fish being caught with bare hands.

But as his vision began to darken, the only thing the boy could hear other than the brash, cold, echoing laughter that permeated through his mind that was one single sentence.

-"That's a mighty fine expression you've got on your face right now, brat."

"You'd do well not to forget that feeling that's causing it."

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"!"

-GASP!, WHEEZE!-

Waking up with a jump, the sweat-stricken boy frantically peered in various directions, vigilant as always as he checked his surroundings for any danger, before finally calming down.

He was 'home', or at least the closest thing he would have for a home for a very long time.

"Tch! Not this again… Damn it!" Slamming his fist on his 'futon', the brown-eyed boy bitterly cursed.

"How long will this crap continue to bother me in my sleep, huh?" This wasn't the first time that he'd dreamt about events that happened a long time ago, and he had the feeling that it wouldn't be the last. Nevertheless, it still irked him to no end on how frequent they are.

Now sitting on the floor, the brown-eyed boy blankly looked up at the ceiling, lost in his thoughts as he gazed at the torn paint on the walls and the missing ceiling fan.

"… fault…"

"It's all that bastard's fault…" He muttered.

"This place, I can't be stuck in this place forever… I definitely won't…" Gnashing his teeth, the boy fixed himself up before doing some light stretches and heading outside. He felt that he needed a breather of sorts, anything to take his mind off of his dreams.

"Man… What a shitty way to start my day…" The brown-eyed boy sighed as he got up and left the room. He wasn't out for a job or for food today, but for a new home. After all, in a place like this, it's not good for a child like him to become complacent and stay in one place too long.

'But first, I think it's time I look and see if a good enough place even exists.' He thought as his mind wandered on to another little detail he never really gave much thought about.

'Come to think of it... It's been a while since I've seen someone around my age…'

'What happened to all of those other brats around these parts of town? I mean, I'm definitely not the only homeless kid out in this shitty place, right?'

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6th Fight: IRON-BLOODED ORPHANS END

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-XOXOXOX-

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