Hiro's Mistake.
"Dad please, I swear, I didn't do it!" The navy haired boy begged from his kneeling position on the floor. His hands were splayed out in front of him on the ground and his clothes were dirty and ripped as though he had been beaten while wearing them. A trickle of crimson blood trickled down his dirty cheek.
"No I don't think I can believe that." A voice from the shadows spoke with a mock sweet tone. "You're a disgusting little liar!" A hand shot out from the direction of the voice and back handed the boy across the room.
The boy hit the floor with a cry of pain. "I didn't do anything, I swear!" He pleaded, hot tears burning his eyes.
"Where is he?"
"I don't know!" Another slap across the face.
"Tell me boy!"
"I don't know, he never tells me anything!" Hot, salty tears fell from his chocolate eyes and landed on the cold, hard ground.
A tall man stepped out of the shadows, a sadistic smile plastered across his once handsome features. His navy hair was flecked with grey and his cold blue eyes were hardened, like ice. He wore baggy deep blue jeans and a black t-shirt; he also wore a black trench coat.
"Maybe your death will convince him to come back." He said sweetly. His hand slipped into a deep pocket in the trench coat and pulled out a sleek metal object. A gun.
The boy on the floor gasped and tried to crawl away from the man, but in his weakened condition, it seemed hopeless.
"Are you sure you don't know where he is?" The man asked smirking evilly and pointing the loaded weapon at his youngest son's shoulder.
"I don't know!" He shouted, terrified.
"Well than I guess I had better give him a warning." The man cackled madly, and pulled the trigger.
A click broke through the silence, followed by a bang. The brown eyed boy on the floor screamed as the cold metal pierced the flesh of his right shoulder. A thousand icy, burning needles were stabbing at his shoulder and arm, blood ran out of the wound and stained the ripped t-shirt he was wearing. He raised a gloved hand to his shoulder and screamed again.
The tall man walked forward holding a cloth. He grabbed the boys hair and held his head still while he held the cloth over the boys mouth and nose. Quickly the struggling boy lost conciousness.
The man smirked as he looked down at his son's beaten and unconscious form. "Chloroform, always does the trick." He grabbed the boys torn jacket and hauled him up. The man half carried, half dragged the small boy to a truck outside the warehouse, when he finally reached the truck he threw the kid in the trunk. Walking fast, wasting no time he got into the drivers seat and left.
The drive took no time at all, he parked outside the dojo and ran to the boot, he threw Tyson onto the ground, and lay a letter on top of him, it was addressed Hiro. The man smirked and got back in the car.
"Let's hope the Hiro learns from his mistakes."