Prologue

Yao! Raven here, though none of you have probably ever heard of me! (Unless of course you're also a fan of Code Lyoko) Anyway, this will be the second story I've ever written! So please don't kill me if it starts out crappy, I'm not that good a writer, especially when it comes to writing action scenes. So, this will be a prologue chapter about the main character's past, to help get people more introduced to the main character of MY story. No offence intended, Endou-san. OK, let's begin!

Also, this first chapter will not be what you expect, please don't let it stop you from enjoying my story!

Disclaimer: I don't own Inazuma Eleven or its characters, but my OC and the plot of this story are mine. No stealing!

Someone's P.O.V

I clenched my teeth, lips firmly sealed, as the belt once again cracked across my back. No matter what, I was determined not to make a sound. Tears that had started to stream down my face now began to blur my already spotty vision.

'Don't make a sound.' I thought, 'It'll be over soon.'

A few moments after I thought that, the belt stopped. I heard him shift and start walking towards the kitchen. He stopped, and walked back over to me. Grabbing hold on the back of my neck, he ordered me to stay put in that gravelly voice I had learned to fear. Then he roughly let go and walked back towards the kitchen.

I closed my eyes and tried to catch my almost nonexistent breath. My long white-ish silver hair hung in a messy curtain around my head, some strands sticking to my sweaty face.

It hadn't always been like this, I remembered. We had once been a happy family. No one drank, no one smoked, no one cursed, and no one had a hand laid upon another.

A mom, a dad, even an annoying twin brother. My brother was, what you could call, my opposite. Where I had white hair, he had blond. Where I had crimson red eyes, he had ocean blue. Where I was porcelain white, he was a sun kissed tan. He was my other half. But everything changed when the fire nation attacked.

(Not really! Real sentence :)

But that all changed the day my brother died.

It's kind of funny really. My mom blamed me, my dad blamed the coach, but I don't blame a single person. No, not even the man who killed him, what I blamed, was soccer.

Soccer killed my adorable brother.

It had been such a normal day that summer. My brother and I were at soccer practice when it had happened.

My brother, Aron, and I were 11. Though I was older by a few hours, I was smaller and physically weaker compared to Aron, who was more thinned out and taller.

He was the teams ace striker and was what you could say an air-head. He wasn't the brightest soccer player, manly relying on gut instinct than common sense.

I was a midfielder and captain of the team, though I sometimes played as backup keeper if Yuki was injured. I guess you could say I was the brains of the team, giving out orders and making decisions and plays on the spot. That's what made me captain I guess, even though I wasn't the best player.

Thinking back to that day, I guess it was a little forewarning. My friend Akio, who usually walked with me and Aron to the field, had been given the opportunity to play soccer abroad. He had acted indecisive and I saw it as something great, so I told him to go, but to also contact me once week to see how he was doing. It had been two and a half weeks since his last message. I still don't know where he is, no one does.

The coach also had to leave the field for a bit to go find the field's caretaker about something.

Anyway, that day I had asked Yuki to look over the plays I had written up for our game Saturday, while I went to fill up the water cooler with some more water. She was like my co-captain.

I was just coming back when I heard a scream come from the field.

I instantly dropped the cooler and ran over to see some drunken loon swaying around and threatening everyone with a switch blade, yelling something along the line of,

"Soccer players are ya?! Well I'll tell ya now, playing soccer will get-cha killed! Soccer's the game of tha Devil!"

Before I could even think to do something, Aron did the most idiotic thing; he kicked the soccer ball right into the man's face.

The unexpected hit caused the man to stumble and become dazed. Seeing the opening, I yelled to everyone to run and find the coach. Everyone did as told, except for Aron.

"Aron get over here!" I had yelled.

He didn't answer, didn't take his eyes of the insane drunk. Looked behind me to see that everyone had made it away from the field safely and then ran over to Aron.

I grabbed Aron's hand and tried to pull him away, towards where everyone else had run. He didn't budge. By then the insane drunk had come out of his daze and had set his murderous sights on the two of us.

Seeing this, I tried harder to pull him away, but being the stubborn person he was he continued to stand his ground. Tears started to prick my eyes as the man came closer.

"Aron, please." I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper while I trying one last time to pull him away.

The fear in my voice must have triggered something, because it was then that he came out of his stubborn daze. But by then it was already too late, the man lunged and stabbed at him.

There was no time to react; the knife went right into my brother's stomach.

I froze.

I couldn't move as I watched my brother fall to the ground, the light in his eyes gone.

I fell to my knees, my mind in a trance like state, not moving, only thinking. 'It was my fault he died. I wasn't strong enough to pull him away. I was the one who had pushed him into playing soccer, even when he said he wanted to stop playing soccer for a while and try basketball. It my fault… no it wasn't. It was my love of soccer that killed him. The very thing I loved killed my brother.'

When I had come to this conclusion, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was the coach. When he got there, I didn't know, but then I saw the insane man lying on the ground unconscious and a bruise forming on my coaches left cheek.

I silently thanked him, unable to speak. A funeral was held for him a few days later.

After that, my parents fought often, my mom continuously blaming me while my dad claimed it was the coach's fault, along with other comments thrown in.

After 6 months of this, they got a divorce. I was put into my dad's custody because my mom didn't want anything to do with me. We moved a month later, away from our small home in Namimori and into a new one a few miles outside of Okinawa.

My dad started drinking and few months after that, the beatings started.

It's been a little under two years since my brother died.

The clink of glass and swish of liquid brought me back to the present.

'What's going on?' I wondered, fearing whatever it was.

And that's when I felt it.

At first it was cool and soothing as what I had thought was water washed down my back, but then it came. A pain like nothing I had ever felt before. I scream crawled its way up my throat and out my mouth. It only lasted a second or two before I was abruptly shut up by an empty bottle to the back of the head.

I blacked out after that.

First off I would like to apologize for this not mainly being about soccer in the beginning and making it evil. Also, for the town called Namimori, I will tell you now that I got it from an anime I love very much, and if I have some KHR fans reading this, hello! The Akio I mentioned in the story does come into play, but later. So, did you like it? if so, leave a review, but if not, then you don't have to keep reading. R&R

The Raven speaks its wise words as the world takes a new form. Good or bad, even the Raven knows not.