Disclaimer: I don't own anybody, anything or a period out of anytime. The end.
Author's Note:
I'm writing this with my French book in front of me (math and French tests tomorrow…)
I don't think I'll continue it since I have trouble keeping anything up. Anyways, this might be a one shot, or I might add more, or I'll try to add more but fail miserably. In the third case, I'm very very very sorry to the one-in-a-billion person who might have enjoyed the story.
Kong Shan is a made up Chinese place which means empty mountain incase anyone wants to know
The street is busy with cars going this way and that and people rushing along trying to get to their appointments. No matter where you choose to place yourself, you'll always be in the middle of the mass stream of people and cars and food carts. The main street of Kong Shan is noisy and dirty. The noise goes away after sunset and starts up again before sunrise. But the dirtiness never goes away. Perhaps that's the reason so many of Them lived.
They lined the curbs of the roads, all trying to get to the best spot to get food or money, or, if they are ambitious, both. The city has an official name for them: The-Needy-And-Homeless-Children-Who-Came-From-Harsh-Backgrounds-And-Should-Be-Dealt-With-ASAP-Due-To-Unfavourable-Reflection-Of-the-City-Image. In actuality, they were referred to as "little bastard beggars", or in some case, "lazy thieves" with a scoff accompanied by the comment. You can't blame Them, you know. They didn't choose to be this way. Their parents forced them to beg for food, then abandoning them when they got to old to attract any sympathies because they are no longer able to support the family and uphold their duties as the man of the house. That's why They usually celebrate their eleventh birthdays on the streets, with dirt and mud and scraps of food, which littered the road. Sometimes, a philanthropist will take one of the boys and raise him as their own son. Other times, a slave driver will take a bunch of them away at once. After all, nobody cared.
This day is just like any other day in the city—noisy and dry, without a hint of rain—and They lined up by the street bright and early as usual. But He was not like the rest of Them. He's been here for about a year, but if you were to ask any other boys, they would say he had been here forever. "Slave drivers didn't even want him", one of them might tell you, "they said he was too scary."
Another day ended as the sun dipped below the sea of office buildings and antennas. It's funny in a way if you think about it: they had enough money to build so many buildings, but not enough to build a shack for a homeless shelter.
"Of course, we will address it as soon as we can." The election promises are always the same, but nothing was done. Why would they be done? After all, the shelters will take work to maintain at the cost of city council.
As the crowd of boys around him begins to disperse, he stood up slowly from his usual spot and looked into his tin bowl. Well, at least no one tried to steal it. He picked up his empty bowl and rubbed the inside out of habit. His eyes were devoid of emotions and his face was blank. Once upon a time, they were happy and full of laughter, but that was then. He walked down the street nonchalantly, broke off some branches from the willow trees that lined the road and picked off all the leaves. He then bent down to scoop up some soft mud from under the bushes, which were never watered anyways, and mixed the leaves in them. Then, of course, is dinner time. This is an act he performed many times now. However, today he took special care in choosing mud that were smoother and leaves that were greener, because, it's his 13th birthday. Something else is out of the ordinary—his normally unobserved actions are being observed very closely by a woman with a beautify face wearing a long skirt.
"Miss Yelan, would you like to tour the city now?" Yelan turned to nod consent to the mayor's suggestion, but he attention remained on the boy.
Suddenly, as if just realizing he was being watched, the boy turned to face Yelan. Hatred and anger blazed out of his eyes. He turned and walked away.
His name is Syaoran Li. Once upon a time, he had a family and a master of magic who was willing to teach him everything he knew. But, his master turned on him, fearing Syaoran was getting more powerful than he, he tried to kill him but failed. However, he did manage to convince the family that their son was going to be a dangerous criminal, so they shunned him. He began to roam the streets. He soon discovered that people wanted his magic, wanted the power that came with it, so his locked his magic away inside him, along with his emotions.
Hehe… here is my very depressing chapter on Syaoran's bleak life…. Hope it's not too bad.
Haven't decided if I wanted to continue yet due to short attention span. Hope you liked it and continue to enjoy the life that's before you!
Er… yeah, anyways, please R&R and sorry about the tense shifts… sort of forgot my English grammar there, hehe.
