Ten Years Earlier
Though the institution housed in the building was oficially known as the Karakura School for gifted children, it was in fact an orphanage, one of the finest in Karakura town.
Namikawa Moto had been an instructor at the orphanage since its founding fifteen years prior, and he was as proud of his students as any teacher. He could count a number of famous polititions, scientists, and authors among his former pupils, a fact that he used as an effective motivating factor for the children still under his care. They may not have had parents, but that did not mean that they would not have a future.
Namikawa said goodbye to the children for the day and headed out, nearly stepping on a bundle on the stairs just outside the bukding.
"Hello. What have we here?"
He bent down to pick it up. A pair of blue eyes were staring back at him
"A baby!"
He ran back inside to the front desk.
"Hey, Mochi!"
"What is it?" the overweight secretary asked.
"Someone left a baby outside!"
"Huh?"
"Look!"
"I don't believe it. This stuff only happens in the movies."
"Well, we are an orphanage."
"There's a procedure to these things, Namikawa. A lot of paperwork must be filled out before a kid even sets foot inside the building."
"Are you suggesting I put the infant back where I found him?"
"No. We have no choice but to keep him here for a while. But we will have to report this to the police. Abandoning an infant is a criminal offence, even in front of an orphanage.
"Did you see anything that identifies the child? Does he have a name?"
"No. There's no document, no nametag. Nothing."
"Then we'll have to give him one, at least until we find out who his parents are."
"Right." Namikawa took another look at the baby's eyes. "Like the sea after a storm."
"Oh God." Mochi moaned. "Not another movie reference."
"How about Wesley?"
"Ugh. I hope when we find his parents he'll have a better name than that."
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The investigation into the boy's parents proved to be completely fruitless, so the name Wesley Roberts stuck.
It quickly became apparent that little Wesley was an unusual child. For one, when his hair grw in it was so blonde it was almost white, an extreme rarity in Japan that suggested one of his parents was a foreigner.
In addition, he was exceptionally bright, able to speak and understand complete sentences by eighteen months and able to read Dr Seuss by himself before his third birthda, which was determined by an estamite of the age he was when he was found.
Unfortunately, that brightness, and the intelligence of his eyes, scared away any and all potential foster parents. As one pair of husband and wife put it to Namikawa when Wesley was four years old, "We want a normal child with normal smarts. Not a freak."
So while children came and went all the time, there was one constant at the orphanage, Wesley Roberts.
The fact that no adult wanted Wesley was picked up on by the other children, who began to shun him as well, giving him the nickname "Weasel." They were jealous of his brains and frightened of his eyes.
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When he entered kindergarten Wesley had art class every day. The first day of class the instructor told them to draw whatever they felt like.
Wesley set to work in a corner by himself, having had almost all of the crayons taken by the other children. He was left with four black crayons, a grey one, an orange one, and a purple one.
When nap time arrived, the instructor came around to collect the crayons and see what each child had drawn. Their were several trains, many anime characters, one picture of Batman, and a couple of ponies.
The instructor stopped at Wesley's picture.
It was not any better drawn than the others, but it was unique. A group of six people, each wearing a black kimono and wielding large katanas. One figure was especially unique, wielding a blade that was truly gigantic and with orange, spiky hair.
"Did you see The Princess Bride rencently, Wesley?" the instructor asked.
"No. This is what I thought of."
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Five months later, Wesley began to notice strange things.
Everywhere he went there were people around that he did not know. Some of them could float. Some could not. But they all had the same broken chain coming out of their chests.
He pointed out several of them to his teachers, who smiled, patted him on the head, and told him having imaginary friends was ok.
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Shortly after his sixth birthday Wesley started having strange dreams.
He stood in the middle of a plain that extended for all directions. The sky was a dark blue, like in the period just before dusk.
A wind blewfrom infront of him, knwing him down.
Wesley rubbed his head as he tried to sit up. When he had succeeded he found himself staring into a pair of frightening red eyes.
"To..."
"Ahhh!"
Wesley awoke screaming, also waking up his roommates.
"What's going on?" "It's freezing!"
Wesley shivered as well.
"Weasel, go close the window!"
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The seven year old Wesley sat across the desk from the social worker.
"So, young man, tell me about these dreams you've been having."
"It's really dark and really windy. And there's this big blue dragon that's always there. It keeps on saying 'To.'"
"Do you have any idea to what or to where?"
"No."
"Have you had any experience with dragons before, in a movie you saw, or at a parade?"
"No. Never."
"Tell me about your classes. I hear you're taking a literature course at a nearby high school. Did you read any fantasy books with dragons in them?"
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"Can I ask what is wrong?" Namikawa asked the social worker after she dismissed Wesley. "Or is that against the ethics of medical confidence?"
"It's fine. You at the orphanage are his legal guardians, so you should have some idea what's bothering him. And I believe you may be part of the solution."
"How?"
"Take him to a psycologist just to be sure, but I believe he's reached the age where he feels like a prisoner in his own home and that his subconsciousness is manifesting itself in his dreams to tell him to leave the orphanage. It would not be surprising for a child this unusually brilliant to feel trapped in his current environment. I also belive that these 'ghosts' are a manifestation of his feeling crowded in."
"So you think we should get him adopted as soon as possible?"
"That would be the best solution if I am right. But he should still see a psycologist to get a second opinion."
"Great. It's hard enough trying to convince prospective parents to adopt him as it is. If they find out he's seen a psycologist that will be the end of any hope of that."
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Wesley continued to have his dreams about the dragon into his eleventh year. He was seeing a psycologist once a week and sleeping by himself. The other children had made the connection between him and the coldness that struck every night, even though the adults denied such a thing was scientifically possible.
Wesley had begun to hear the voice of the dragon even when he was awake. In addition to the word "to," it kept on saying "hyoree," which Wesley did not understand. He assumed it meant a haori robe, though that did not make sense to him.
He learned to ignore the ghosts, as any mention or acknowledgement of them creeped out both the other children and the adults, and even claimed to have stopped seeing them to his psycologist. The ghosts made it relatively easy, as they were usually just passing through and not all that interested in conversation with a ten year old stranger. They could not interact with physical objects at all, so Wesley dismissed them as harmless.
The dragon, on the other hand, was impossible to ignore. It seemed to always want to talk, though it always had the same nothing to say.
It was lunchtime in the orphanage when Wesley learned that trying to ignore the dragon, or the spirits, was probably a very bad idea.
The wall to the backtard with the jungle gym exploded from the outside, burying many of the screaming children under rubble. Wesley was sitting by himself as far way from that wall as he could, and still pieces of plaster struck him in the face, causing him to bleed profusely.
People were crying, shouting, screaming about the police, bombs, terrorists, and the apocalypse.
"Well, they're right about that one." a voice said from behind the smoking ruin of a wall.
Toshiro heard the voice clearly even over the screams. He saw the figures clear as day as they stepped into the destroyed lunchroom. They wore black cloaks and white masks that hid their faces.
'What's going on?' he thought in a panic. 'Why can't anyone else see them? Are they ghosts too? But ghosts walk through walls! They don't blow them up! And they dress normally!'
The one who must have been the leader began to look around. "That reiatsu is still here. We didn't kill him. Which one is it?"
His eyes settled on Wesley, the only one who was staring at him.
"Hello, Substitue Soul Reaper." he siad to Wesley. "It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Yakon. I am here to kill you."
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I don't know why the update for chapter four still hasn't shown up. It still says that there are three chapters and that the last update was Wedesday, even though if you click on it there are four, now five chapters. I'm not happy about that.
Please review.
