What is pretty may not always be sweet, and what is sweet, might be a deadly poison in disguise….
A tiny boy who looked to be about 5 years old was thrown out the back door of Number Four Privet Drive. His face was twisted in furious rage, as he clutched his broken arm to his body. He was small, and shockingly thin, with pale skin and ebony black hair. A pair of emerald green eyes could be seen clearly from under a fringe of black hair, blazing with anger.
A large walrus of a man stood in the doorway, his fat face pink with rage. This was the boy's uncle, Vernon Dursley.
"AND DON'T COME BACK, FREAK!" Vernon roared, and the child glared at him.
"Fuck you, you fat bastard!" The child swore. His surly cry startled the man for a few precious moments, in which the boy to make a break for the front yard. He could hear his uncle's angry cries behind him, but he kept running, not looking back.
This boy was named Harry James Potter, and he was sick of the abuse and neglect from his so-called family.
No, his name wasn't Harry, not anymore, now that he was free. Harry James Potter had died the first time his dear uncle Vernon had raised a hand in anger to him. He needed a new name, he thought as he ran, his broken arm mending itself as he ran.
Yuu… Yuu Kanda…. That would be his new name, he decided. Where the name had come from, he didn't know. But regardless of its origin, it was his new name. He was Yuu Kanda.
It was then, at 8:39 PM, on Wednesday, April 23, 1985, that Yuu Kanda grew from the remains of Harry James Potter, stretching up to meet the sky like a lotus.
Three years had passed since that fateful day, and Yuu Kanda had changed drastically from his old self.
The now 8 year old was still slender, but he had shot up six inches in height. He'd gained enough weight to now be called healthy, and his body now had a thin layer of muscle. He'd let his dark hair grow out past his shoulders, though he normally kept it tied back in a messy ponytail. He was now moderately dressed in a thick navy winter coat, blue jeans, a black turtleneck, and brown hiking boots. His few possessions were stored in the olive book bag he carried.
Currently, he was scrounging for food in the dumpster behind a bakery.
It was there that he first heard an infant's wailing. Cautiously, he peaked over the edge of the dumpster, and went wide eyed.
An infant lay in a pile of trash bags, only wrapped in a pink blanket for warmth. Kanda swore, and he pulled himself out of the dumpster. He walked over to the infant, and picked it up.
The baby was so new that its skin was still lobster red in color, and its tiny eyes were squeezed shut. A tuft of brown hair was on the baby's head.
What kind of sick, twisted bastard would leave a newborn baby outside in the freezing November night, Kanda didn't know. All he did know was that it wouldn't survive long without a guardian.
Gently, he set the baby back down on the trash bags, and he took off his bag. He opened it, and pulled out a spare turtleneck and an old black sock, whose twin had been lost long ago. He wrapped the turtleneck around the baby, and rolled up the sock, before putting it on the baby's head. It wasn't much, but it would keep her (It was a pink hospital blanket. Most likely, the baby was a female.) warm for a little while, at least until he could get her some decent clothes.
The baby's cries had by now faded away, and its small eyes opened. Kanda felt himself gasp in response to the sight. The baby's eyes were bright silver, not unlike metal in their color.
"Hello, Alice." He murmured, and the baby cooed at her new name.