Hi Hi~~
Another story?! Yeah well the inspiration hit me hard when I listened to that song Centuries by Fall out boy (really whats with me and using songs) and I'm kinda low on it for Ten Flames so sorry if that one takes a little longer.
I'm quite taken to this idea actually. I wanted to write something a little darker than I'm used to. Should I change to M? maybe if I get complaints...
Anyway I do hope you enjoy this! Please tell me whatcha think~~!
"Just die already godDAMMIT!"
"Yes that's the spirit keep it up! Punch him hard!"
"Fuck I have so much cash riding on this!"
"Make him bleed! I paid to see some damned blood!"
The bright artificial lights were burning his eyes. The stench of sweat, fire and blood invaded his senses. The uncomfortable metal around his neck chaffed his pale skin. Screams of pain and agony as well as the shouts of the audience deafened his ears. But he kept going. He had to keep going. Even as he felt his muscles scream and skin burn he could not stop. Not until the merciful bell rings true.
His opponent was big and bulky. So confident in the beginning when he caught sight of his delicate frail feminine opponent. But confidence was dangerous without the skills to back it up. Skills his opponent didn't have.
A sickening crunch was heard as he felt bones break under bruised flesh. Still he persisted, punching, kicking again and again till his opponent half-dead and maybe a little more. But at least he was alive. The brunette pushed his gravity defying locks out of his sweating blood coated face.
Finally a bell, metallic and emotionless rings out cutting through the chaos and he steps back. Beautiful bright orange flames with slight flickers and sparks of red and black died down from his clenched bloody fists. Glazed caramel brown eyes looking away from the gruesome mess made by his own hands. An emotionless voice from an unknown source crackles, how he hated that voice, always an infuriating tone of mocking condescension and sick amusement.
"And the winner again is… Our beautiful, young Bloody Sky! The Tainted Saint! Will anyone stop this little flame from spreading or will he become an all consuming wildfire?"
A resounding roar and cheers were accompanied by the announcement but the Bloody Sky just spat out the metallic liquid filling his mouth out and glared past the blinding lights into the darkness. 'One day…' He swore to himself as he did with each fight. With each victory. 'One day I'll get out of this hellhole and gave that fucker a piece of my mind.' He didn't care about winning nor the money. He didn't want this. To be covered in blood, to harm, to fight. He was fucking only fourteen years old goddammit! A child! He just wanted to leave. It had been years but he still remembered his mother's kind face, her cooking and smiles. He remembered his older brother's laugh, his rants on justice and about how he would grow up fighting all evil, his twinkling blue eyes. He remembered his father's… Well okay he didn't really remember his dad but still.
He remembered the day they went to the park. His neighbour's dog- a chihuahua if he recalled was there. Being the scaredy-cat he was he screamed in complete fear and was chased by the damn animal till he came to the deepest part of the forest. It wasn't surprising that he was kidnapped looking back but at that moment he had been terrified. There he'd been whisked into the darkness of the world.
A delicate figure, porcelain skin, feather soft spiky hair and innocently angelic features fairies could have killed for already caught him an amazingly high price. When they found out he could sing with what that said was as clear as the most polished diamond yet more hypnotising than a siren's call he spent two years as a human pet under the alias as the Broken Bird, passed again and again through 'collectors' and auctions. He'd been lucky those people, disturbing as they were- weren't into more carnal pleasures but instead chose to admire the concepts of beauty and purity the boy and his voice held. Of course it didn't stop them from a little touching much to the distraught child's disgust.
Despite some of his owners being abusive or negligent he would have kept this lifestyle in a heartbeat if he knew what laid ahead in the future.
It was by accident really. His new 'master' and his family were particularly abusive and his resolve to survive another day was strong. There was a spark, a flame and a burning need to live. One thing lead to another and in the end orange eyes looked on emotionlessly as the mansion before him burnt to the ground. The echoing shouts and screams of all that lived in their ringing in his ears. Yet he didn't, couldn't feel anything but satisfaction. There was nothing but greed and cruelty in everyone's eyes. He had been humiliated, degraded and even marked because of their selfishness. And now with the fire burning what would be his last owner he was free to stretch his wings. To be reunited with loved ones. To become an endless boundless sky. To-
*clink*
Now reverted caramel brown eyes widened as he felt the cold press of metal around his slim neck. Thin malnourished fingers shook as they felt something engraved. A collar. The panic and despair set in but he was too weak at that time. A sharp pain and darkness embraced him whispering cruel words and promises on how it would never let go.
It took around a gruelling year to learn how to fight. Apparently he was being sponsored much like every other 'contestant' in the new twisted world he found himself in. Before he had been a caged bird. Used to entertain and please as he sang a song of sweet lies decorated with pretty things. Now he was supposed to be a stray dog. Groomed to fight and kill.
It was endless the violence. The first few fights he had were complete annihilation. The next few were close but ultimately ended in a very painful failure. Honestly he didn't see why his sponsor didn't kill him like all the other wounded dogs who failed. Why he didn't just get put down.
He remembered his first win, his twenty seventh fight, the next time he awakened some strange flames that seemed to be a part of him as well as a renewed resolve. The exhilaration, the feeling of power and superiority as he was the one giving the pain. His orange eyes glowed eerily as tears fell down unconsciously his face twisted in a victorious smile while his small body bathed with his opponent's blood. Then the guilt, the horror of what he'd done and the nightmares. That was the day he was earned the title Bloody Sky.
Traumatized and haunted by the feeling of life draining because of his hand's he nearly lost his next fight. And consequently he almost lost his life. In that moment between fading in and out of consciousness he saw no remorse, not a glimmer of care in his opponent. In fact when he finally, if not groggily opened his eyes before the bell rang he could see disappointment and fear in the other. The brunette realised at that moment with alarming clarity that in the stage full of faded bloodstains and memories of the wounded and the dead there was no place for the weak. It was a dog eat dog world. The wounded would rise once more like weeds, the dogs that silently lick their scars and grow stronger ready to kill again whilst the merciful who let them live will forever fear every shadow.
A flare of pure orange coloured resolve shimmered in his eyes. It felt different this time, no longer did he feel like a collared dog. He became even scarier. Cold. Calculating. Desperate. A caged beast.
After that he'd never lost a fight since.
It's been three years since then.
The crowd had left and the blood covered young teen sighed as he was dragged to his appointed sleeping quarters. He looked at his room. There was nothing but a worn dirty bed and a few books scattered in the corner. Tiredly he entered a small door connected leading him to a cramped bathroom filled with moss and other things not that he cared. He was grateful. As someone who held a kill streak of two hundred and seventy he was allowed much better conditions then before. At least now he had a room.
He washed the crimson substance off with water so cold he was surprised there was no ice hitting him, revealing pale milky skin. He didn't know which was disturbing - that he hated the sight of his own flesh or that he felt more comfortable covered in blood. White meant purity. Something he was anything but. It made him look like a walking lie and he couldn't stand lying. When blood covered him like a second skin it used to sicken and repulse him- it still did- but now it felt normal. Like a coat of armour. None would cross paths with him, none could hurt him.
After getting cleaned up and dressed he proceeded to train as best as he could. Shadow boxing, push-ups, stretches and more. He was strong yes but he knew there were stronger out there. Despite his revelation that the people he save will come back stronger and maybe one day kill him he didn't care. When he saw their resolve stay firm, their desperation reflected in his own he couldn't help but let them go. Maybe those rather uncommon but not rare acts of mercy was why gave him that stupid title Tainted Saint. But that didn't mean he was weak. He wouldn't die. He would also get stronger. For he too held no death wish.
After rigorous training the fighter would find some food slipped under the door which after carefully analysing would warily eat. His intuition was strong and had never lead him wrong but you couldn't be too sure. Finally he laid his head on the mattress and prayed may sleep find him quickly. He had forgot when he stopped praying for help to come save him from this hell. When he stopped thinking obsessively about the memory of his family and what the taste of fresh air on his lips and real daylight felt on his skin. Now he just wanted sleep and even then it no longer comes easy.
The Bloody Sky woke to the smell of burning and screams. Whilst he was at full alert mode the sarcastic part of his mind sardonically sighed. Of course it had to happen to him. Why the fuck wouldn't it? After all it wasn't like there was seven billion other people on this planet- oh wait.
Something in him was screaming to leave the place no matter what 'This is your chance' it seemed to repeatedly hiss excitedly. Not wasting a second he activated his flames and kicked the door down. It took a few good blows before the hinges broke and by then the fire was reaching his floor. He didn't waste anytime running to the exit. He sprinted past the other caged children with the mindset of an uncaring warrior. Past the screams and pleads for help. He didn't care. None had helped him. He had crawled the bloody ladder of victory with his own burnt, broken hands. He didnt care if others perished. He didn't care that he could save their lives. He didn't care. 't didn't. He- SHIT! Skidding to a stop he ran back toward the flames as he activated his own bright orange ones. Despite everything he was still weak and naive the brunette thought bitterly as he smashed the locks of the captives.
But as he looked on at the grateful smiles and looks of awe with seemingly emotionless eyes the young teen couldn't help but think maybe a little weakness isn't too bad. Before the little group he managed to free can voice their thanks Tsuna interrupted them. This was wasting time they did not posses and he still had one more cell to go. "No one should go through what we have. I only saved you all because I couldn't bear seeing you all die a pathetic dog's death despite us all doing our best to survive. So save your fucking breath and leave unless you think I wasted my precious time." It was scathing with the purpose to offend and disgust, so the children could turn away from him and run. The latter part had been fulfilled however occasionally a child would turn their head back to look at him with an unnervingly uncomfortable gaze with an emotion he couldn't pick up. Well it had been a long time since the Bloody Sky had encountered such an emotion but in the future he will see it again and again. Awe. Respect. Admiration.
With a sigh he turned his back to the escaping group of freed fighters and with renewed vigour ran past the flames only to slightly hiss at the pain of the burns adorning his skin. One more cell. It held an individual fighter unlike the others who are usually put in a cramped space with about four other inmates. Of course this teen was in hi own opinion was definitely unlike any other he'd seen in this disgusting place.
By now he was sweating profusely. Using his whatever flames was hard and required a lot of energy not to mention concentration. The flames tauntingly licking his sides were starting to get to him but something inside him egged him on. Finally he got to where he wished and using his momentum he broke into the giant cage. There in the corner was the boy he'd been searching for, who he'd gone headfirst into flames for... and who held the stupidest grin like nothing was wrong. "Hi, hi Bloody Sky~ or should I call you the Tainted Saint?" The ginger head pretty boy chirped happily like there wasn't destruction all around him. The brunette was definitely regretting his actions at this moment.
With gritted teeth he acknowledged the other. "Magician"
The Magician kept his smiling face, his starry eyes betraying nothing. The Bloody Sky found it was the one opponent he couldn't read, like he wasn't human and that had always intrigued him. The ginger haired teen was a newbie- he arrived wearing his strange signature black wizard hat and cape a month ago, quickly rising to the ranks as well as proving to be a great fighter. Though much to the brunette's ever irritation his intuition hinted to him that even while he fought with all his strength and abilities the smiling male before him- who looked more feminine than him- was just playing around. The rookie even let him win! It was disgraceful and a blow to his dignity however the teen couldn't object nor complain- he wasn't so naive anymore that he believed all fights needed to be fair. Survival was everything. However that day the Bloody Sky knew he owed the Magician a favour and today would be the day to repay it.
"Mou please call me Gingerbread." Orange eyes narrowed at the flippant attitude but chose to do nothing else.
"Come on we need to go. Now." It was obvious in his tone that there were to be no arguments nor objections. Though apparently the ginger haired teen seemed to not notice as he shrugged slightly nervously.
"Yes. Well we have a problem." A vein was literally about to pop on the brunette's head. Yet despite the frustration he calmly took in the situation. While the other's slim figure from the waist up seemed to be functioning properly the waist down-
"Shit really?!"
"I really am quite sorry about this." The sky flame user just grunted as he ran as fast as he could through the flames, dodging the worst of them while making sure the smaller boy in his arms was barely grazed. Surprising the other was much lighter than expected, it was a little unnerving how while to a normal person would not notice a thing, a trained fighter with an exceptional observational ability and intuition like he could tell whatever the Magician's skin was- it definitely wasn't human. Of course he had enough trouble in his own life, he wasn't going to make it his thing to go seeking out other people's problems and secrets.
"Shut up Ginger." He grumbled as more debris began falling down as he skipped steps at a time with a grace so different to when he was younger. A rather large piece of cement fell directly above the disabled magician and with no hesitation, acting on pure instinct alone the Tainted Saint manoeuvred himself to take the fall. He let out a soft groan as the sharp pain bloomed on his left shoulder, biting his lower lip so hard blood fell onto the creamy yet still rather healthy looking skin of the body he protected.
"...You are indeed a good person." Gingerbread murmured thoughtfully. Of course his carrier caught the compliment and couldn't help but laugh hysterically. No one had ever said that to him and for good reason. Yes he saved some of his opponents but it only prolonged their inevitable death, if anything he made them suffer more by letting them live. He enjoyed the feeling of blood on his skin and relished the accomplishment of living another day. He was by no means good. Let alone a person anymore. His mirth quickly faded and a serious expression replaced it. "And you are a stupid fool for thinking such nonsense."
Unexpectedly the Magician simply smiled a wide smile. Maybe the other was even more of a maniac than he was if the ginger could still smile so -godforbid- happily. "Then I guess I'm a stupid fool then~"
The brunette had nothing to say to that. Instead he continued running, focusing on his escape, the aching of his muscles pushing forward as well as the sting screams of the burns adorning his skin, completely ignoring the foreign warmth pulsating inside him- of course his traitorous body couldn't suppress the growing blush on his pale features.
Cool night air finally hit him. Fresh air. It had been so long, too long. Six goddamn years too long.
He turned to watch the godforsaken building burn, watching with vindictive satisfaction as it slowly crumbled. Another living nightmare engulfed in flames. To bad his own personal nightmares wouldn't leave so easily. That his own revenge wasn't by his own hands. But he couldn't complain. He was finally free. And god did that revelation feel fucking amazing.
His little monologue was put at a standstill when he felt hands tug at his dirty shirt. Looking down Gingerbread was gesturing him to move to the darker area near the edge of some forest were. Warily and slightly confused he did so, while he rather not admit it the wizard cosplayer was the only person right now that he could feel safe in putting a little trust into. Of course when three scary, intimidating cloaked and bandaged men appeared out of nowhere the Bloody Sky was seriously reconsidering his decision.
"Thank you for saving Gingerbread." The tallest and the one exuding he most power spoke up, the brunette couldn't help but gulp. If they were the one's who trained the Magician no wonder the other was so strong despite barely even training. The black clad trio seemed to be able to easily kill him if they immediately went at even a tenth of their full power. He was barely at Gingerbread's level when they fought (though right now he had an idea he could now be slightly stronger now). Speaking of the individual the ginger haired teen felt completely limp in his hands. Like a puppet. A doll. His intuition simmered confirming his suspicions. Honestly he would have been more surprised if he wasn't inwardly groaning at his horrible luck. It figures the first person he begins seeing as possibly more than an opponent or an enemy would be a frigging doll.
"Please pass him over to me now." The brunette immediately snapped out of his thoughts and numbly handed the other over. Maybe he should have been more concerned for the gingerette but somehow he knew the other would be safe and healed- or fixed? Either way while the trio seemed emotionless and cold the teen could sense in the taller one a soft almost indistinguishable edge of anxiety, worry and... relief? It was that voice that made the Bloody Sky able to pass the limp figure to them. With a slight, minuscule twitch of the edge of his lips the brunette gave a faint tired shadow of a smile. "Take good care of him yeah? He's a good guy- or doll or whatever."
The trio of guards seemed to tense slightly. Barely anyone who didn't know beforehand could tell that Gingerbread wasn't a human. But they could feel the sincerity of the young child's words. The spiky haired brunette wasn't one to spill secrets, Alejandro knew that first hand when he controlled his beloved puppet. The fire wasn't planned and despite the strength of his doll- it was quite vulnerable to fire. The puppet was precious to the Vindice jailer and such kindness shouldn't be overlooked. Especially for someone who shouldn't be able to understand compassion with all he'd been through. The teen was strong and they could respect that.
"Of course." Long bandaged fingers went under the dark billowing cloak. The brunette tensed warily as the taller guard pulled out- a black card only decorated with silver chain like indents on the edges. Well that was anti-climatic. "Keep this. If by any chance you see us and you need our services show us this card." Suddenly the black piece of cardboard looked amazingly appealing. He was no idiot, he could see these were a powerful, feared group and while he knew that finding these individuals is next to impossible as well as something he rather not do, them owing him a favour was quite a delicious thing to have. With as much politeness and restraint from looking to excited and desperate pale slim fingers reached out for the card. "Thank you."
With that they were gone. Though something told him they'll see each other in the near future.
The adrenalin all at once seemed to leave his body. Caramel brown eyes began fluttering to a close as a sense of cold numbness set in. Stamina wasn't his strong part considering how he had a time limit when fighting not to mention the limited amount of training he could do in the small room. But he didn't care about that now.
He just wanted to sleep.
"Sir there seems to be one more child left." The chief of the Japanese police tore his eyes aware from the tragic sight of the malnourished beaten children and young teenagers who had been claimed as missing from various parts of the world. It was disgusting how child trafficking even existed.
"How do you know?"
"Apparently the children have been crying for a boy with brown hair that saved them." Before he could even come up with a response the chief noticed unusually bushy brown in the distance, something definitely part of the natural flora. Wordlessly he sprinted to only confirm his hypothesis. Another boy, a young teen. He looked much worse than the others and needed medical assistance now.
He woke up in a white room.
It smelt of chemicals that masked the faint odour of blood. Was it cleaning day again? No wait. It all came back to him like a bag of bricks. The fire. Everything was gone. He was free.
Well unless he somehow got caught and is about to be used as a human experimental subject. He chuckled bitterly at that. That would be his luck. To his surprise his laugh was hoarse and dry. How long had been out?
His questions could be answered later as suddenly voices, ones he heard a lifetime ago were coming closer. Never had he felt so nervous and excited at the same time. With the sound of a door opening he heard a sharp intake of breath.
"TSU-KUN!" Immediantly a woman with the same coloured hair as he- if a little darker- threw herself at his bandaged body. He could feel the trembling of the other and awkwardly patted her back, not sure how to respond.
"I-is that really you Tsuna?" A shorter person but still taller than him looked at him with- disbelief? happiness? Tears were forming at the edges of bright blue eyes. He knew those eyes. He knew these people. He had almost given up seeing them again.
The large muscular male with hair as blond as the other male- must be his father?- by his side caught his attention. He too looked quite emotional and unsure how to deal with it. "Do... Do you remember who you are? Your name?"
His name? He hadn't thought about his name for so long. No one in six years called him his name. It was just his aliases or degrading insults. But as he looked at these people. His people. His family. He remembered. And suddenly he felt a little more human as he too began feeling tears well from caramel eyes that trailed down his cheeks.
"M-my.." He choked slightly. Partly from the new emotions he had so tightly sealed, partly from the lack of moisture in his throat. But he had experienced worse and so he pushed on, ignoring the cracking and taste of blood as he softly spoke.
"M-my name is Sawada Tsunayoshi. A-and I'm finally home."
