Now just spoon up a heapin buncha lawsuit.

Go ahead, laugh it up.

INHERITAGE 2nd: YOUTH OF YESTERYEAR

Chapter 2

Natural Selection

Juuban Orphanage

Rhys had taken to Japanese quite well, being able to speak at least a little of it after a few months. If you talked slow enough, he would be able to understand you.

Needless to say, with children being as cruel as they normally are, no one spoke slowly. His routine was basically committed to memory, as the ridged schedule keeps everything on time nearly to the second.

Rhys found that he could function, at least enough to live, just by going by the huge clock that was situated on the tower in the middle of the facility.

7am: Wake up

8-9am: Breakfast

9-11:30am: School. Rhys had tutors that taught him Japanese as well as the normal courses. He received the notes for those classes typed in English.

Noon: Lunch

1-4pm: School again.

And after that, free play. The bane of Rhys' existence.

Rhys had picked up on certain words and phrases in Japanese faster than others. Particularly things like insults, curses, and the like.

It was, in this orphanage, considered 'cool' to talk about how you became an orphan. A bit morbid, yes, but kids do some pretty weird things when faced with stuff like that.

Most kids knew how their parents left, died, or whatever. That means, as far as Rhys could tell, that they should all hang around each other. The ones who just go given up were in another group. Those who knew that their parents were dead were another group.

And for those who didn't know, they were by themselves. Most just took the insults from the other kids, about how their parents were dishonorable bastards and the like.

The place where these kids were getting that type of language happened to be the History teacher. Mr Horashi. He often went on rants.

Don't ask. Just… just don't ask.

Of course, the children who didn't know took those insults without violence or protest. The English teacher was responsible for that. She was the one that students ran to crying. She would often say that the other kids were just making stuff up. That they couldn't be right, they don't know what happened.

And kids, being that young, didn't realize that they didn't know either, and they didn't really know otherwise.

And either way, that didn't stop the insults from hurting.

Rhys was different though. No one really knew if he knew or didn't know what happened to his parents. The kids knew that, by now, he knew enough to tell them if he did. He rarely answered any questions, and even more rarely were the answers in Japanese. When approached about his family, he'd either calmly walk away without giving even a passing glance, or he'd glare at them when walking away would get him in trouble.

Him acting like this gave the other children bait. Bait they were going to use. Because even if he didn't react, they thought it was funny just to say it to him.

"Oi!" A boy said. For a five year old, he wasn't very big or small. Just a normal kid with a mean streak, "Gaijin! We've got some more suggestions!"

Rhys, for once, didn't move or react. He simply sat there.

"Goro thinks that maybe your mother got bored screwing animals, so she divorced your dad!"

"Keitaro says that your mother was stupid."

"I think they fell in a valley!"

"You always say that one, Akio."

"Shut up, melon head!"

"I think maybe they had money problems, and couldn't afford to support a child with their low income. I mean, it costs a lot of money to support a child, and maybe they didn't have a possible way of getting the money."

Everyone stared at the girl who said that.

A pause.

"What?"

"You're weird Kaoru."

Another pause.

"His mother was a flying aardvark!"

"You know what I think?" A boy named Kuri said, leaning in over Rhys, "His mother was a whore. His father was a wife beating bastard, an alcoholic, and a failure. They got together… and this little piece of trash was born. That's why they deserved to die, that's why…"

He didn't get to finish.

He found himself staring at the sky. A second later, he felt his back hit the ground hard. Only after laying there for a few seconds did he notice that his jaw was exploding in pain. He grabbed it, and started howling. Everyone saw that this boys skin was split. The teachers rushed over to him.

The kids in the yard were either staring at Kuri or at Rhys, who was now standing with his fists ready to swing again.

Some kids still swear that they heard a low growl that day.

Rhys stood there for about six seconds, not moving. He was shaking, probably keeping himself from running forward and beating the crap out of Kuri and any teacher that got in the way.

After those six seconds, he left his hand relax. He swallowed, and started towards one of the playhouses. The one with the green slide.

The one with the green slide was the one no one ever played at. The swings were too low, the slide was sticky from the sap from the tree right beside it, the fire pole was surrounded by a pit that always collected water, the rungs of the handle bars were missing, the sandbox was full of rocks, and the swinging bridge doesn't necessarily swing anymore.

Rhys goes over there often. Under the slide is a small area that was previously bolted shut. The children, before they abandoned it, had somehow pried it off. Inside was dark, dry, and quiet. The sand from the sandbox had for some reason been moved there, and was pushed to the right hand wall as you walk in.

Rhys found himself sitting here more often than not. The panel that had been pried off on one side could easily be swung over as a door, and the red pebbles outside would crunch loudly if anyone approached.

He sat there numbly for a few minutes, before he heard the clock gong six times.

Dinner.

Wahie! Naka naka!