my 12 year old angel

Yu Kanda was 16 years old. He was your typical rebellious teen. Disinterested in what was best for him, he didn't listen to those who claimed only to want to help him. He was Japanese, and looked it; clean long black hair, sharp ebony eyes which, with closer inspection, would be found to be a rich and thoughtful midnight blue. He had not smiled since the age of 8. He had been a happy child, a treasure. He lived with his mother and father and older brother for these first 8 years. His brother was one that every one would be proud of. Every one was proud of him. He was kind, considerate and an absolute genius. But modest, he cared for his family, and younger brother. But he soon grew distant, and it was in Yu's 9th year of living that he killed himself.

The Kanda family was very traditional, and for this to happen brought shame to the family. They were rejected, and they secluded themselves, with in months they had moved to Britain. Before they had even learned the language.

Yu Kanda was sent to an English school, with almost no knowledge of the language. He was teased and bullied, and his childish happiness left all his features. He learned self defence, but the first time he used it, a boy was sent to hospital. His own parents disgraced him. Never quite as good as his brother, they kept him, but barely supported him.

Kanda would never be like his brother. And he was quick to choose not to. He separated himself from people altogether; his parents, his classmates, potential friends and strangers.

He went through each day merely searching for a reason to live, without a reason to die.

After his 16th birthday he had had enough. The empty shells that used to be his parents, all but fed him. They couldn't even look at him. He felt pathetic, a pointless existence in the household. After his insufficient dinner he went to his room and packed his tiny amount of possessions and left. He didn't sneak out, he didn't even try to be quiet. He just walked out the front door at 7:32pm.

His parents didn't spare a glance.

He lived on the streets. For the first week he tried and tried for jobs but his applications were rejected countless times. Eventually he ran out of food and was drawn to a skinny form that screamed hunger. After 9 days he stopped applying for jobs. But refused to become what he saw 'a pathetic slime' in other words a beggar. He sold his possessions for money at first. Keeping only two items that meant everything to him. His katana, Mugen, which he received on his 6th birthday from his brother. And his Jade comb, girly though it was he always kept his hair clean, long, straight. So as the days wore on in his homelessness, though his clothes became dirty, his face bruised and unkempt; his hair would be constantly clean and knot free as he passed the time brushing it. On the 10th day he stole food. Fed himself and slept.

Theft was foolish, in his mind, and he was in no rush to do it again. Hence he continued to starve himself. He became nothing but a sack of skin and bones.

After 24 days his legs collapsed. It was 6:02 in the evening so there was no body around. No one would help as he tripped over his own exhaustion and starvation and fell onto the sidewalk as the sun began to set. No one would save him. He wasn't afraid. He didn't, couldn't, care anymore. Death was just another annoyance, coming to bother him.

He watched as a light snow fell on the pavement in front of him. At first it melted away as if it had never existed. But then it began to pile up, creating small mountains of ice, and he could feel the cold biting his cheeks. He breathed out and watched his breath fog the air as he closed his eyes for what he hoped would be the last time.

He couldn't bare to look at this world anymore. It was such an eyesore. If ever he was sad, that emotion had been smothered by his anger and hatred at the world. He couldn't even remember what it had felt like to be truly happy, half his life ago.

In the darkness he heard footsteps crunching in the snow. They seemed so distant but Yu focused on them as if they were a god send. Perhaps an angel coming to take him away. But then he questioned the existence of god. Of heaven. Surely no such high and mighty figure really existed. He was sick, in Kanda's mind he could imagine a sick, sadistic man laughing at him, and had he enough energy he would have growled as his anger flared. But as it was, he just curled tighter, as if protecting himself.

The cold ice had created a numbness that reached all through him, passed his skin turning his stoned heart cold, and he realised, suddenly, that the footsteps had stopped. He nearly smiled as he thought that in his rejection of God; God had rejected him.

But out of no where, through the numbness of his cheek, he felt warmth press on his cheek. He opened his eyes to glare at whatever had pulled him from his death with that push.

An angel.

White, white, white. The snow was grey in comparison. No the snow was grey. The pale face and the ivory hair that looked like silk. Shiny silver eyes, pooled with worry and concern, confused the dying teen, never had he seen concern like that, let alone for him. The face was so close that their fogged breaths were mixing. And the warmth was coming from a gloved hand, resting on Kanda's cheek.

A red scar mauled the perfect angelic features of the boy in front of him. But his open and concerned mouth turned slightly into a relieved smile as silver eyes peered into dull blue orbs.

He didn't remove the gloved hand and Kanda held onto the warmth as he shut his eyes and allowed himself to slip into an exhausted unconsciousness. The last words he heard were barely caught, sounding like whispering chimes on the wind, tinkling into his ear, but creating a thread. A thread that would keep him alive.

"How's your faith these days?"


A/N I probably will write a second chapter... most likely- in fact im already planning it... well I hope you liked it. I suppose nothing much happened. I got the idea from 'seasons' by the Hilltop Hoods. If you haven't heard it I suggest you listen. Very deep. And I really wanted to use that last line.

Oh and by the way, just for some extra context, it's Christmas eve.

Please review!