Xxx As a warning, this story is going to be darker than my usual fics so I will be raising it to M by the 4th chapter. Thanks for reading!
Syaoran heard someone sit beside him in the alleyway. Instinctively, he flinched, turning to the side and saying, "Please---no more. Please just leave me alone--I'll die."
"You will," the boy agreed. A match was lit, followed by the heavy smell of nicotine. "Especially saying that sort of thing. If they know you're weak they'll torture you more. Get up before someone sees you."
Syaoran struggled to lift his mangled body but his skull slammed back hard onto the slime covered pavement. A thin stream of blood pooled down from his bangs and across his swollen right eye . Syaoran shut them and began to cry.
"Why...? Why did you do this to me?"
"You did this to yourself, kid. Everything is a choice. You choose to be weak and so you only have yourself to blame for rolling in your own blood. Get up before someone sees you," he repeated.
Syaoran raised his head again but it fell back.
"Get up," the voice said once more. It was a command, but a gentle one.
Syaoran turned onto his bruised stomach instead. Using his cut up arms as support, he pressed his beaten down body up from the ground before turning and pressing his back against the brick wall. Now that he was sitting he could see the stranger wasn't one of the boys that had attacked him and left him for dead.
"The next time something goes wrong don't just stand in self pity, kid. Realize that you choose it, learn from it, and move on."
Syaoran silently observed the stranger with interest. He was a larger boy as well as much older. There was something mocking in the boy's appearance and presence, but Syaoran preferred it to the devilish grins of the boys that beat him up. Even the boy's eyes, dark red and angry, were oddly comforting compared to the others.
The stranger looked down at Syaoran. "So have you decided?"
"On what?"
"If you're going to live or not."
Five year old Syaoran stared up into the red eyes without fear or hesitation. "I'm going to live."
"If that's the case then you'll have to come with me."
"…I can live with you?"
"I'll take you to a place where you'll be safe."
"….but why?"
"Because I decided." The stranger flicked the remainder of his cigarette out into the alley and stood up. "I've got somewhere to be, kid. If you're coming then you have to come now."
Syaoran became frantic when the boy started to leave without him. His body was still sore from the attack but his desire to be with the strange boy slowly overcame his pain. Syaoran crawled, then stumbled, until he was at the boy's side.
"You're not from here."
"N-No…I used to live in the north but my parents….t-they were killed…I'm supposed to live with my guardian but…he's disappeared."
"You can't return to that place until you decide to be strong."
"Huh?"
"Those guys will kill you if you return to where you belong. They meant for you to die tonight, just like they meant for your parents to die. You're only living because you decided not to die."
Syaoran paled to a sickly white.
The boy's lip pressed into a thin line as he said, "You'll live somewhere else until you're strong enough to return."
"But….what about school? And my homework? And my guardian?"
"Do you want to live?"
"Yes."
"Then you'll have to be dead for now."
"…I don't understand."
Instead of answering, the strange boy just kept walking. Syaoran struggled to keep up with the conversation and his movements. Blood was dripping profusely from his forehead and making him dizzy, but Syaoran kept on going, anxiously gluing himself to his new guardian. His shirt had been torn up to shreds so he took the fabric off the bottom of his pants and pressed it to his wound as he walked.
There were no street lights here, Syaoran realized. Not even a car light or a window being brightened by a lamp. The area was vacated. The few teenage boys that they did pass took one look at the pair of them and turned heel into the dark night. Syaoran didn't know where they were. The boys had dumped his body far from where he had been assigned to live with his guardian. The decrepit buildings were as unfamiliar to him as the boy at his side.
Eventually they came to a stop at one of the rundown buildings that had once been a theatre. The boy punched down the door and walked in. Syaoran followed after. Inside were a group of people, around the boy's age, sleeping on various items of filthy cloth. Before Syaoran could get a look at the sleeping faces the sound of a gunshot made them vanish.
The smoke and broken stone where the bullet had been lodged sizzled in the now vacant room, while the holder of the gun took one last look around before lowering his weapon.
"Your new home," the boy said, sliding the gun back under his jacket. When he pulled his hand out again he had a can of red spray paint. Syaoran watched with fascination as a red bat was sprayed across the wall that had been shot at.
The boy tossed the empty can away while his other hand pulled a brown bag out from his pocket. As Syaoran fumbled and caught it against his chest, the boy said, "You're safe now, kid."
Syaoran was too scared to move but managed to say, "You're leaving me?"
"Have to."
"But--"
"I already said you'd be safe, didn't I? If you want to live then it's up to you, so there's no point in me staying."
"What's your name?"
The boy paused and looked over his shoulder.
"My name is Syaoran."
"Kurogane," he muttered.
"Thank you, Kurogane-san."
Syaoran swore he heard, "Don't thank me just yet, kid," muttered under Kurogane's breathe, but by the time Syaoran opened his mouth to question the words, the boy was gone.