Hi, everyone! A new story, where Gray is the main character, some other Fairy Tail characters may/will follow. I really wanted to try writing a darker story, hopefully I made it! It might seem a bit sad, but I still hope you enjoy it! (Vocabulary notes: oyabun = father in the yakuza network, kobun = "child" in the yakuza network, the children have to obey the father, who protects them) ~Mintdreams
The world, a place where injustice rules
„Come closer..", said a dark voice. „Come closer...". But the boy didn't move, he just stood in the back of the room his eyes staring at the floor.
Now the dark voice snickered and someone flipped his jackknife. Some people were shifting.
„Come on little boy, come to me...", repeated the dark and somehow distanced voice, but the boy didn't seem to notice, at least he didn't show any signs of registering the situation. It seemed like he was made of stone, left behind in the center of the wet and dirty room. From the corners of the rooms were the sounds of spitting and murmuring heard. Some dark smoky and dirty voices were arguing.
The voice snickered again and began laughing. Instantly the other voices extinguished. It was an incredible cold voice, like from another dimension. It echoed through the room, like a bell in a big church. Everyone stared at him, the one, who owned this powerful voice. Except one little boy in the center of the room. No one dared to make a sound.
The nasty laugh belonged to a man sitting on a wealthy-looking chair in the back of the room. There was just one light in the small room, which was enough for illuminating him. He sat on his chair, like a born king in his throne. His knees folded and his feet resting on the back of a crouched man. Finally the man abruptly stopped laughing and straightened himself. His cold gray-coloured eyes still focusing the boy. That's when someone got pushed to the ground in one of the corners. His head hit hard on the floor. Without turning the eyes from the boy, the man smashed a knife from his place straight in to the left side of the chest of the one who had pushed the other man to the ground. Silence followed, while the man with the knife in his chest, tried in vain to steady himself and kept begging for help. The guys around him just moved back and looked at him disgusted. His eyes already looked distanced when he stumbled over his dead comrade. He didn't last 5 seconds, when he finally broke down, next to his comrade, the knife still sticking out from him.
Silence followed.
The man on the one and only chair in the room, leaned his chin on one of his hand and looked bored. He indicated with a nod in the direction of the boy: „Take him away and don't forget the rubbish. We don't want it to start reeking, want we?". It was more of a rhetorical question, because no one would dare look him in the eye. If they talked to him, they all focused on a spot under his chin. He stood up from his thone-like chair and went to the door. When he passed by the boy with charcoal-coloured hair in the center of the room, he laid his hand on his left shoulder. He even stooped a little bit to whisper in a self-confident and chilly voice: „Don't worry my kobun. Oyabun Deliora will protect you. Don't listen to anyone beside me" and then he moved to the door, where another boy opened the door for him and closed it.
The boy in the center didn't move. His eyes still staring at the floor and his mouth a little open. Some guys just grabbed him and dragged him outside, while his head moved up, his eyes now focusing on the lonely and illuminated chair in the back of the room. Finally and apparently awakened, he murmured: „Deliora...".
One evening 10 years later
Gray leaned like always on a beech-tree in his favourite park. While smoking, he played with a knife in his hand. He wasn't that bad at throwing knives. Actually he thought knives were a good way to protect himself, but he knew they weren't only used for protective reasons. Knives could be pretty dangerous in the wrong hands, but Gray believed in himself and loved his knives. He never went out without one. His favourite one was a present of his oyabun. A rather short one with a metal grip and an engraving, which said „Blood is thicker than water". It looked a little bit scary with the red letters, but Gray accepted it proudly. A present from the oyabun was something precious. He knew that very well, that's why he hid it in a secret place. Suddenly he heard someone plopping himself next to him. His eyes moved to the boy next to him. It was Lyon. „What are you doing here?", Gray began, rising one of his eyebrow. The white-haired boy next to him grinned at him and said: „What do you think? I'm keeping an eye on you, so that you don't get into s*** again". Gray spit his cigarette out and stood up. „What are you rambling about? YOU keeping an eye on ME?! I'm laughing my ass off. I go home", he began walking in the opposite direction of Lyon. „Home?! Stop lying to me, where are you going? You know 'home' is in the opposite direction", he pointed. „Do I have to remind you, that you shouldn't piss off oyabun anymore than necessary? And don't forget you have an appointment later", Lyon continued. Gray stopped for a second, but didn't turn around he just continued strolling in the opposite direction. „Whatever...", he answered. Lyon watched him and murmured: „I really want to know, where he always disappears, I don't have the time and nerves to always follow him, there are enough stupid guys for that", groused Lyon, seemingly annoyed.
Gray walked through the city, it wasn't far away. From outside he might seem lost, but he knew where his feet would drag him. Soon the sun would set, but the city was still buzzing, a lot of teenagers were laughing and from everywhere were the sounds of mobile phones to hear. Some pairings were strolling through the city, chatting and exchanging sweet nothings. In some small alleys, were even during the day sunrays didn't reach, people already were searching through trash or exchanging things. Some already were drunk, some other were dripping with blood, some other just sat on stairs and stared at the opposite wall in front of them. Gray just passed by, this was nothing new to him. The world was a place, where injustice ruled. When he met someone familiar, he just nodded without stopping, his hands still in his pockets. One boy, maybe half his age came asking him about cigarettes, but he just declined and walked on. After that the boy insulted him. Gray just ignored him, his head already at the place, where his feet dragged. And finally after some minutes he came to the place. It was a little bit out of the city and the buzzing. He stood and looked at the clear and still river. It was sparkling from the last sunrays. Gray smiled vaguely and breathed deep in. For some seconds he just relaxed and forgot everything, just himself and this wonderful place and maybe... a connected memory. He grabbed his necklace and walked down the small hill towards the river. This place was really special, it was the only place, which had that kind of special silence, which Gray needed. One metre before the river he stopped and watched over the river. The river and this place didn't change much in comparison with one week, one year or 10 years. Gray looked at his reflection in the river and looked at a kinda sad and expressionless face. He closed his eyes. He changed. Not just from the outside, but from the inside too, he felt it. Who was he? What was his purpose? And where was she? Did she change? Was she even alive? What was he thinking all this questions? Like what would all this thinking change, he knew tomorrow and the day after, everything would stay the same... in this world were injustice ruled.