My first fic, yay! :DDD
I looked into the mirror and regarded myself with shadowed, cold golden eyes. Eyes that had witnessed the deaths of many. Hands that had killed on numerous occasions. And the soul of someone who simply didn't care.
I had grown used to death. Grown up around it. In the harsh life in Meteor City, you would do anything to survive, even though life had no meaning. And to survive you had to kill.
When I met Kuroro Lucilfer, I saw someone who was like me. He was the predator, not the prey. Although I was only ten when I first saw him, I knew.
I met him one day in Meteor City when I was resting on the top of a bashed car. I wasn't doing anything, simply sitting the day away. I saw a little boy of eight run. He had jet black hair, and he was running as though his life depended on it, which it probably did. He stopped and moved until his back was to the car I was sitting on. He didn't seem to notice me, a mistake. I moved to go beat him up, simply to amuse myself, until I finally saw why he was running.
A gang of eight boys came into view. They were the hardened children that Meteor City had given birth to. The Hell-ish world in which we all lived in had toughened them up. But I knew I was stronger. The gang moved closer to him, jeering and laughing. They too, didn't notice me sitting atop the car.
Even though the little boy was outnumbered and seemingly weaker than them, he seemed to have planned this; planned on pretending to be cornered and scared, and then strike. I knew this because I had used this technique once or twice. I debated on whether to help him or not. I decided not to. I wanted to see what the younger boy was going to do.
"Give us the things you stole from us and we won't beat you up... too badly," one of them snickered.
Ah, so this boy is a thief as well. It seems as though we have something in common, I thought.
The boy stared at them with blank black eyes. From my position on the car, I had a bird's eye view of everything that was happening. The boy had a length of iron pipe hidden in his tattered shirt. The bullies came closer, and in a smooth, confident motion, the boy took the pipe from his shirt and struck one of the boys.
Scarlet blood poured from his head. The other boys stood there for a shocked second, and then, with cries of outrage, they started forward, using their anger and fists to pummel the boy. The boy didn't seem fazed at the seven furious bullies.
Instead, he seemed quite happy that they were putting up a fight. Seemingly without effort, the little boy proceeded to wipe out all of the bullies with his pipe.
Less than a minute later, the eight boys were lying in their own pools of blood, their own life liquid. The little boy looked at them in a satisfied way. I had a feeling that the bullies had been bothering him for a while. I moved soundlessly from the top of the car and down behind him.
"You very good," I commented. The boy jumped and turned around. He raised his pipe in defence. "Don't worry, I no hurt you." The boy looked at me for a moment.
"You talk weird," he finally said. I looked at him coolly.
"I no come from here. My Japanese no good," I said. The boy still looked at me with guarded eyes. He hadn't lowered his pipe. He was wary. That was good. It showed that he didn't trust easily. Because if you trust too easily in Meteor City, you end up getting robbed, cheated or killed.
"What's your name?" he asked cautiously.
"Feitan," I replied.
"Feitan what?" he asked. I shook my head.
"Only Feitan," I said.
"Kuroro Lucilfer," he said. That night, we shared some scraps under the shelter I had made for myself.
We travelled together for a while, not that there were very many places to travel to in Meteor City. It was all the same; all garbage. But it was home.
Along the way, we picked up some other...acquaintances. I wouldn't refer to them as friends. Merely comrades. There was Ubogin and Nobunaga, who came as a pair, Machi, Pakunoda and Franklin.
I still remember that day clearly. The day when I was about nineteen. Kuroro was seventeen, and he assembled us together. He asked us to join him, and be together as one. As the Spider.
That day, we left the garbage wasteland. But I knew that I would have a place, that the seven of us would all have a place to return to, the place known as Meteor City, the place that was my home.
After leaving Meteor City, again, we recruited new members into our group, until there were thirteen of us.
Thirteen outcasts, forming a Troupe. Thirteen people, causing blood and anger. Thirteen people. The thirteen people who I had learned to trust.
Maybe trust isn't such a bad thing after all. Maybe, in time, I would find that these comrades have turned into friends. But I knew, if that day would really come, they would be the only ones who would understand me.
They were the ones who had lost their childhood, like me. They were the ones who knew that to survive, you had to take someone else's life. They knew, and I knew, and I trusted them, because we are the Twelve Legged Spider, the Genei Ryodan.
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