Hooray, my second fanfic is up! Hopefully you guys will enjoy it! Please review!

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Chapter 1: The Child at the Doorstep

The rain beat down heavily on the city of Tokyo, wet cold water burning down into anyone walking underneath, an oxymoron in itself. The rain was relentless, sparing no mercy for its victims. Several people staggered through the harsh weather, clad in raincoats, or hiding in the protection of an umbrella. The people all seemed lifeless, not showing any emotion, except sadness, which the rain usually brought with it. No one spoke; no one ran, no one yelled for taxis, nothing. It was silent, and the rain beating down burned loudly into everyone's ears.

A lone child wandered through the rain, trying to block out the sound of the rain mocking him, laughing at him. He slapped his hands to his ears, but the water that dripped from his hair slid down between his skin and his hands, dripping in his ears, and the sound of the laughter started again. He fell to his knees, his own tears blending with the rain, mocking his existence. His entire body gave way, as he collapsed into the ground, making a splash from the impact. Many people walked past him, either not seeing him, or ignoring him outright. One person even stepped over his body, and thought nothing of it. Clinging to his chest, held just above the ground was an orange book, surprisingly dry, especially when you considered how wet him and his clothes were. He struggled with one hand, trying to claw his way forward across the slippery wet pavement, his hand soon becoming covered in scrapes and cuts. The rain kept laughing hysterically at the small boy, crackling in his wake. His eyes slowly closed, his vision becoming blurred in water and sickness.

A young man walked by, clad in an orange raincoat, cursing on the foul weather. He shook his fist around at his side, clenching it, even though no one could see it concealed under the sleeve of his coat. He looked down at the ground, his feet moving across it, watching the whole world soak. He wondered how his day would have turned out if it hadn't been raining all day.

"If it hadn't been raining this morning… I might not have been so depressed… and then I might have been able to talk to DJ without making a complete idiot of myself." He grumbled to himself, cursing again. "It's just not fair… now she'll never even want to look at me again… then again, why would she? I'm just a disgusting person… I don't think anyone in the world would want me."

The boy kept walking, until he noticed a black blur in the distance. He thought it was just someone else, walking through the rain like he was, until he noticed it wasn't moving. He questioned what it was; still walking forward, until he discovered the blur was a small child. Startled to find such a thing, he hurried forward, kneeling at his side, grabbing his arm.

"Kid, kid, are you alright?" The child gave him no answer. He pulled his head up, and discovered it showed no emotion, only a blank stare. He worried he had already passed away, but with nothing to lose, he hoisted the child up, taking his arms over his shoulders and carried him on the large hump on his back, made from his backpack underneath his coat. The book continued to stay close to the child, hanging from the two by his stomach.

The boy reached his home, slamming the door open and carrying the child up to his room. Neither of his parents were home, so no one questioned his arrival, or how loud he was being. He kicked his door open, slamming it against the wall it was hinged to, and lying down the child on his bed. The child had black hair that streamed down his face, making him look like some sort of rebel. His shirt was a pleasant looking orange, and he wore torn up blue denim jeans, ripped mostly around the bottom of the legs. His shoes were black and white, and looked like baseball cleats.

The boy put his hand to the child's forehead, finding no temperature whatsoever, a perfect mix of hot and cold. He questioned why he had no temperature, after being in the freezing rain. Maybe he had just been on the ground for very little before he had helped him out? Whatever it was, he was glad he didn't have a fever. He tucked the blanket and comforter over him, and tucking his head underneath his fluffy white pillows.

"This kid… is he even alive? Was I too late?" He looked down at his feet again. "I messed up again… I can't seem to do anything right… not for DJ… not for this kid either…"

He punched his table in anger, making small cracks in it. It was made of fairly weak material, but stood up to most of the things he did on it, usually his homework. He rubbed his knuckles, seeing a splinter up in his skin, and looking down at his feet again.

"… Urgh…" The child groaned, struggling to wake itself up, to see if it had survived. The boy dived to the bedside, watching him struggle to force his eyes open. His eyes gently cracked open, showing his large blue eyes.

"Hey… are you okay?" The boy watched over him, curiously. The child blinked, and frowned at the boy.

"Just who are you? And where the hell am I?" He softly groaned, displeased by the boy's hospitality. "Tell me right now, before I have to resort to violence."

The boy blinked back at him, lost in his words, wondering why the child wasn't gracious for saving his life, or at least why he was being so rude about it. "This is my house… my name's Alex." He said, calmly, not trying to provoke his attitude. "I found you on the ground outside… you collapsed, or something. Are you feeling alright?"

The small child raised his body from the bed, still a little dizzy. He turned his head to Alex, still lost in the eyes of the small child. "I'm alright… just a little out of it." Alex smiled back at the child, trying to warm him up with his kindness.

He looked up at over his body, from his feet to his hair, when he noticed something.

"Ah!" He shouted, startled. "Why is your hair orange?! It was just black! I swear! I'm not colorblind at all!"

The boy returned a blank stare at Alex. "My hair's always orange… what are you talking about?" The child looked disgruntled and confused with his response, thinking he was objecting to his appearance.

"I swore it was black… and it didn't stick up like that. It was all over your face… like you were some sort of emo kid." Apologized Alex, still dumbfounded. "Oh… yeah, you probably wouldn't know what an emo is anyways. Just go ahead and ignore that." The child flashed his wrists under his eyes.

"No cuts. I'm no emo kid." He complained, glaring at him.

"You know what an emo is?" Alex questioned. "Man, they're teaching kids the wrong things these days… but that's not important… uh, where do you live?"

The child looked away. "I don't have a home right now…"

"What?!" Alex yelled. "If you don't have a home, then you're staying right here! I'll take you in!"

"Take me in?" The child questioned him, almost like he had no idea what he meant.

"Yeah! You'll be like my little brother!" He shouted, determination twinkling in his eyes.

"You sure don't hold anything back, do you…?" The boy looked uninterested, but still stayed in bed.

"Hey, it's what a good person does… they help people in need. Now, what's your name, kid?" He asked.

The child blinked for a second, flopped back down on the pillow, and sighed.

"It's Rifenno. My name is Rifenno." The child tucked his eyes closed, curled up underneath the blankets, and fell asleep again.