Hi y'all. I should probably be working on an update for one of my other stories, but I really like this one right now and want to work on it. I'm terrible at focusing on one thing at a time. I will not overloud myself though, I will keep on track with everything (trying to motivate self only half working…) Well, disclaimer time.

Disclaimer- I do not own +Anima, hurray…

Chapter 1- Of Ponds And Outcasts

His eyes weren't even open and he was already blinded. Turning around Keane groaned, it was always so bright in Sailand. Pushing himself into a sitting position, the red head saw that he managed to fall asleep in his clothes, his robe crinkled and bow untied. Taking them off he quickly changed into some fresh clothes, he was probably late for his first lesson by now.

Running most of the way, he'd managed to make it to class before his tutor, a scholarly looking old man with a really long beard, started to worry. He was mainly his advisor on the social and public aspect of being king, so Keane wasn't surprised when he began explaining about the riot. The old man told him that these sort of things were to be dealt with efficiently and immediately, and that the king should not succumb to the will of the barbaric people who use these sorts of protest. That didn't really make much sense to the red head though. If the people were upset to the point of physical violence, shouldn't something be done?

He didn't ask that though. Whenever he did ask about anything along those lines, he usually just got the response that 'some things needed to be sacrificed for the good of the country.' Apparently he'd understand it when he was older, although he wasn't really sure how true that was. There didn't seem to be much to understand.

So he would just nod and pretend he did. Going through the rest of his classes, they weren't as intense as yesterday, and he didn't have sword practice. Finishing an hour early because of this, he decided to go to the courtyard. It was his favorite place in the palace. It was most of their's actually. The closest they got to freedom was a joke with a bit of truth in it, although Keane didn't really mind.

Walking to the far end of the courtyard, he made sure to steer clear of the pond in the center. He didn't know how the other Princes, the ones who picked on Myrrah right along side him, could even stand to walk by the place, let alone play and relax there.

"Hey Keane!" Holding back a sigh, the red head turned around. It was Maxwell, someone who he used to think he was close to before he was put first in line. Once that changed though, he was one of the first to change tone and was by far his worst tormentor. The black haired boy was, of course, one below him in line, and once again Keane wondered if this was how Myrrah had felt about things.

"Yes?" He asked, a bored tone to his voice. He wasn't going to shrink away from him, but he wasn't going to immediately get violent like the feisty silver haired boy used to. He'd go with somewhere in between instead.

"Heading off by yourself again? What's the matter? Too good for us now?" Maxwell accused, arms crossed in front of him. Keane had to resist rolling his eyes. The reason he stayed by himself now was because he wasn't accepted anymore.

"You know that's not it," he said simply, not wanting to go on a whine fest that no one accepted him anyone and he was so alone and bla bla bla. It wouldn't have done anything and he didn't want anyone's pity anyway.

"Why don't you come over here and tell me to my face what it really is then?" The black haired boy asked, trying to give off a condescending look. Turning around to just leave, he really didn't feel like fighting today, he saw two other boys standing in his way. Of course, he shouldn't really be all that surprised. Turning back, he walked up to Maxwell, who was standing right next to that stupid pond. It unnerved him just going near it, and Keane hoped this would just be over soon.

"Look Max," He started, using a nickname he'd made years ago. It was just a habit of his to give them to people, "it's none of your business if I want some alone time, so why don't you just play by your little pond and let me-" he was cut off rather suddenly by someone, definitely Maxwell, seeing as he was the only one close enough to actually do it, pushing him backwards. It was so sudden though their wasn't any way for him to possibly regain his footing.

When it registered in his head that he was in the pond, the panic set in almost immediately. It was deep. He couldn't feel the bottom and the only thing he could think of was that someone had died in there. Myrrah had died in here and now he was going to too all because he was too freaked out to think straight enough to actually swim.

He only barely registered someone grabbing the back of his shirt and lifting him at least partially out of the water. He quickly gasped for air and almost instinctively grabbed the edge of the pond to pull himself out. It was only after a few seconds that he started to actually hear things again, or at least acknowledge it.

"-of died! What's the matter with you!" the red head managed to stop coughing long enough to look up to see who was yelling, which was probably the same person who had pulled him from the pond, he wasn't really all that surprised.

It was Straton, probably the only kid around his age who wasn't out to get him. He had short, dirty blond hair and brown eyes. Overall, he wasn't a very remarkable person, and was actually pretty low on the ladder in terms of future power. They'd never really been friends, but he'd never actually made any move against the ginger, which he was thankful for. He was usually pretty quiet, but that didn't change Keane's belief that out of any of his 'brothers,' he would probably be the one to save him.

"Oh please, he knows how to swim. Besides, it's just water," Maxwell said, not appearing to really care about the future king gasping on the ground. Before Straton was able to say anything the red head managed to catch his breath enough to speak. Well, it was more like yelling, but he still managed to.

"Just water! Myrrah died in there! Don't you freaking remember? Or is a year too long for you?" the second he mentioned the silver haired boy's name, everybody became tense. Despite people's usual repression of the former first in line's memory, they'd freeze up whenever he was mentioned. It was the only death any of them ever really had to deal with on a personal level, let alone suicide. Keane didn't care though, simply picking himself up and starting towards the inside of the castle.

He didn't expect anyone to actually follow him, but that didn't stop Straton from tagging along a few feet behind him. Neither said anything until they were deep inside the castle and the other boy's far behind them.

"Hey, are you okay?" the blonde boy asked, trying to avoid the puddles Keane was leaving in his wake. The red head nodded slightly, rubbing his arms a bit. It was kind of cold all wet like that.

"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks," he said, not planning on bothering to turn around and face the slightly younger boy, just keep walking. He did though, when he no longer heard him following or heading back. When the ginger turned around, he was just standing there, staring at the ground.

"Um, something wrong?" he asked, taking a few steps back towards the other boy. He wasn't sure if this was something normal for him, or if something was really wrong.

"No, it's just.. Well, you and Maxwell used to be friends, right?" Keane nodded, not sure where this was getting at. To anybody who paid any attention, it was obvious that Maxwell had started hating him as soon as he was named first in line. They were only friends when they'd shared a common enemy.

"Okay, I was just wondering," Straton said, looking up from the floor again. The ginger blinked in confusion. He'd never actually had a real conversation with the blonde haired prince before. He was confusing.

"Well, um, bye then," Keane mumbled, not really sure with what else to say. He really was grateful for being saved, but he wasn't the best at showing that. He usually came off as over emotional or not enough. Not to mention his knack of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.

"Alright, bye," the brown eyed boy said before leaving down the opposite direction of Keane. His room was probably that way or something. It was no surprise that Keane didn't know where everyone's room was. He didn't think anyone did, actually.

Reaching his room, the red head got dressed into his pajamas. He thankfully didn't have any other classes left today, and so no more reasons to leave him room, except for maybe dinner. He could always say he wasn't feeling well though, and have it delivered.

Sitting on his bed, he tried to just block out all thoughts of what had happened, but that was hard to do when you had nothing but time to think. Straton sure was weird. The more Keane thought about it, the less he knew about him. He kept to himself more then even the red head did now a days. Kind of like Myrrah had been like, except without the explosive personality and constant bullies to bring it out.

Maybe he'd try to talk to the blonde boy more. After all, if he was going to be an outcast, might as well make friends with the people who already were.

The first real chapter. Yay? To anybody reading this so far, I hope you like it. I'd also like to say hurray for being the only fanfic in the Keane section of +anima, hopefully it shan't always stay that way.