It was cramped, knees tucked into his chest, shoulders squished against his sides. There was no light, no air, he suffocated. There were no bindings on his arms or legs, he struggled wiggling, moving, he had to get out of the dark. He had to get out.
Movements restricted. Still, he placed his feet against the flat surface, pushing. Kicking, had to get out, had to get out. The air was thin. He was moving. Chest rising and falling and rising and falling. He looked unable to close his eyes, teeth grinding against each other.
His body still hurt. Head pounding and screaming. Before the movement stopped, the bumps, the sliding, it all stopped. He could hear the clicking, the crunch, the stomps. Someone was moving closer.
Then the air, the light, it all hit him at once. He looked, his body covered in white bandages, head wrapped tightly, only small locks of hair squeezing between the gauze. The area around him unfamiliar, grass and large trees littering the entire space. His heart thumped loudly within his chest, threatening to burst. He could hear a light rumble behind him. He moved fast, eyes looking to the two men that stood before him.
Their clothes were unlike any he had seen before.
The two men wore military fatigues, however there were no insignias that divulged which military they belonged to. Their eyes uncaring as they stared at the child in front of them. They did not speak. The soldier on the right grabbing his sheathed knife that sat attached to the right shoulder of his vest.
At the blade's appearance, the boy sitting, scooted backward eyes narrowing. His body trembled, he was afraid, however his small fists clenched. That was all before the knife was tossed at his feet. There was little hesitation, grabbing the handle, the boy took the knife in hand. His gaze never left the soldier's, his mind had completely shut out, there were no thoughts, his body only moved.
No words came from the boy's mouth, but a low constant growl came from him, his throat burned. His hand clenching tightly around the knife's handle. He waited listening as the soldier on the left's radio crackled to life. It was an unintelligible mess. The very noise made the boy place his free hand against his head. He backed away from noise, a rise in his chest warming his heart. It was 'Loud!'his head throbbed even more. He hated it! The pain!
His grip grew even tighter and for a fraction of a second, he had moved, the tip of the knife pointing towards the soldier's direction.
*BANG*
His approach was stopped, the other soldier held a pistol. Barrel smoking. The ground in front of the boy sporting a new hole. Despite the fact the noise had nearly ruptured his ears, the boy could recognize the danger, he slowly backed up, watching the gun. A minute passed before the soldier had stopped responding to the radio. The soldier looked at his comrade before shaking his head. The bag the pistol wielding soldier held in his other hand was meant to be given to the boy. Inside, water, rations, medical supplies and a map. All of which, by the order of the radio would not be given.
Instead, the soldier shot at the ground in front of the boy again, this time not stopping until the boy was forced to turn and run into the large rainforest that surrounded them. As soon as the boy left their line of sight the pair reentered their vehicle and soon left.
.
All he had was the knife in his hand. The boy stalked through the brush that littered the ground before him. His bare feet were covered in mud as he moved forward. There was no sense of direction, he only knew that going back wasn't possible. The pain and hunger that coursed through his body failed to go away. Each movement hurt and as he passed through bushes full of thorns, small cuts had begun littering his body.
The forest was entirely different to anywhere he had ever been. the bugs that clung to his body. The thick mud that restricted his movements and the noises of the ever-moving rainforest. The boy had forgotten that the idea of blinking had existed, his eyes as he walked constantly moved. He watched the tops of trees, the path in front of him, the grass below. His chest had yet to calm down, his breathing rapid and quick, hand gripping the knife as if it were his lifeline. Despite the pain in his head, he did not stop to hold it.
His body screaming that the idea wasn't good. Despite the air being fresher than that of the dark home he lived in, he still couldn't find comfort. His hair stood on end, chills ran up and down his body. Hands shaking. Each noise that he heard in the forest surrounding him causing his eyes to dart off in different areas. 'Watch! Listen!' The instructions flowed through to his body, no delay, only the screaming voice directing his body.
There was no time to stop, eat, or drink. He could see berries littering the foliage around him. Animals did not eat it, he would not. Still the hunger pains that hit him only an hour after his march forward began to corrode his inhibition to eat the berries.
The sun which had been high just moments ago had begun to fall. His vision would quickly be snuffed out under the darkness. The thought terrified him, but he could not linger on his fear. In the distance he heard a movement in front of him. He quickly dove into a nearby bush, whatever wandered near him was not friendly, he was sure.
His eyes fell onto a small girl, her hair dark blue in color, the white shirt and shorts she wore covered in dirt. Hair disheveled. Over her left shoulder a large bag was resting, strap tightly fitted. In her right hand was a knife like his. She looked far better than him, her skin was healthy and other than her dirty appearance she seemed ok.
The boy bit down his lip, the gash which had been there leaking a small amount of blood into his mouth. He watched as she crouched down, with sticks placed in a pile, she paused with a small pants. She began to dig into the small bag pulling out a box. Her small fingers grabbing a small stick and after moving her arm, he saw it. Light.
A smile appeared on the girl's face while the boy's fist clenched harder.
"KYA!" There was a scream, he could not see it. A shadow pouncing from the bushes behind the girl. On the ground she continued to scream, a large jaw clamped over her neck. A long slender body covered in fur and brown spots. A paw with 1-inch claws pinning the weak girl down. The girl kicked and struggled crying out, "Mommy! Mom-*crack*!" the noise faded. The animal's jaw clamped tight enough to snap the girl's neck. Letting go the animal licked its paw, not minding the spilled contents of the bag that littered the floor around it.
It took a moment before the animal clamped its jaw once more on the girl's head. The boy watched as the animal began to walk, dragging the body with it. A hand covered his mouth, trembling, eyes panicked, he could not make a noise, he could not stay here. As the animal continued to drag the body it stopped, its head raising, nose sniffing the air as its eyes looked in the boy's direction.
It was enough. The boy moved his foot, *Snap*. A branch on the ground. The animal growled, he could not think or move. The knife in his hand almost falling, he turned, he had to run. Doing so, however, was a mistake. The second he appeared out of the bush the animal leaped, there was no way to outrun it. He could only raise his left arm to protect his neck. He had seen how the girl died.
It took only a second for an unbearable pain to appear in his arm. His thin skin and malnourished bones were not able to stand up to the pressure of the animal's bite. Taking him to the ground the boy cried out in pain. The animal's teeth flayed him with ease, his unprotected body the target of the animal's claws. It was by sheer luck that the paw had not ripped him in half. The power behind the strike was enough to fracture his ribs, the claws digging into him. Blood pouring from the wound.
His bloodshot eyes looked at the animal, fear coursed through his body, but he had no choice, looking for the knife that dropped from his hand he felt through the thick mud engulfing him. He was dying, he would be eaten. 'Kill! Kill!' his entire being screamed. It was either him or the animal. Fear and rage swirled in his chest. His head which was being unraveled from the bandages pulsed. He found the knife, hand grabbing the weapon by the blade. The razor-sharp edge cutting into his hand, still he thrust it forward and into the animal's shoulder.
The animal angered bit down harder breaking more of the boy's arm, still he did not stop. He plunged the blade in and out still holding it by the blade. It cut further into the base of his fingers and palm. The animal had eventually let go of his arm, still he did not relent despite the state it was in. He forced his arm up and for his hand to grab the animal's fur. His knife's target changed to the animal's neck. He sliced through the fat and muscle and into the veins. Blood pouring over him as the animal fell, its voice crying, limbs moving to crawl away.
He moved, he climbed on top of the animal, finally adjusting to hold the knife correctly he dug in deep. Stabbing the animal in the chest, plunging in and out rapidly, his demising strength causing the wounds to get shallower. Yet despite the exhaustion and blurring vision he continued. The smooth stabs soon turned to squelching, the fur becoming a bloodied mess. Arms coated in the hot thick blood of the animal. "HAHA!" His head began to hurt once more, a hollowed laugh coming from his mouth, the pain in his bloodshot eyes only worsening.
Eventually he stopped the pain becoming too much. His chest, head, arm all hurt. He stood unsteadily, placing the handle of the knife in his mouth as he cradled his chest. He went towards the bag, before digging through it and the ground next to it. He paid no mind to the dead girl, instead he took all she had. Most were items which held no meaning to him. He had little idea what they were, he only recognized the bandages from how they looked. He ripped the packaging open, applying gauze haphazardly, quickly wrapping it around his body sticking whatever he could against his chest. Even he knew leaving them alone would not be good.
His body shivered, his pale skin going gray in color, eyes drooping. He had to stay awake, he had to leave the cold, the dark. He scrambled for the box the girl had been holding before she died. Most of the small sticks had been knocked out, covered in the thick wet mud. Not that he paid it mind. Grabbing one of the 3 remaining sticks inside the box he began to copy the girl. He pushed the sticks he found into a small pile, before he struck the stick and with it a small flame flickered to life. After this he could only guess, his hand moving to the sticks lighting the rest of the fire as the two made contact.
The light began to grow and soon a warm washed over the boy's bleeding body. Although it would have been the greatest opportunity to sleep, he moved once more. With the girl dead he began to covet the food she had.
They were small bars. What they were he had no idea. The smell wasn't dangerous, and it actively made his mouth salivate. Taking the knife out of his mouth, the boy's hand still covered in blood brought the food to his mouth. He ate as much as he could, his hunger alleviated but accompanied by the pain of swallowing. His stomach hurt for a different reason; his breathing struggled as the boy cuddled his body close to the fire. Finally, his eyes closed with his body quivering throughout the night.
.
A line of monitors filled their sights. Nearly over 100 soldiers all sat in front of screens, their eyes dancing from location to location. Behind them stood one man. His body clothed in a thick brown trench coat; face covered by a gray-tinged beard. The man gazed at the monitor directly in front of him with his one uncovered eye. A small grin on his face, as he read the erratic heartbeat monitor.
His ear overtaken with a report given by his subordinate. "Day 1. 28 reported casualties. 9 injured. 47 alive. Sir."
'28 on the first day.' the man scratched his chin; he was unconcerned about the deaths. More would die as the days dragged on. Still, he placed his hopes on two. His eyes switched monitors. One featured a small girl, hair snow white, clothes only faintly dirtied. Her bag slung over a large tree branch as the girl herself slept underneath a pile of leaves, knife at hand. The other... well.
It was no coincidence they met in that alley. He had been watching for a long time. 'The son of Toshinori Yagi and Inko Midoriya, older brother of Izumi Yagi. The forbidden son of the number 1 and 14th hero.' The boy's living conditions were abysmal, abused every day, living in his own filth with only small amounts of food and water to keep himself alive.
The old man had been there from the start, keeping tabs on the family, cameras and microphones placed within the house whenever they were away. For years he had watched the nameless boy. He could have stepped in within the 5 years of abuse, but he didn't. He watched as the boy broke, watched his mind crumble. All because he had seen it. When a name, identity, and intelligence are taken away from someone, all they have left is instinct.
That day and this night had only proved him correct. Despite the environment he bit a chunk out of his sister's leg, all so that he may have the chance to live. Plunged into a foreign place with nothing but a weapon he survived a death sentence against an animal bigger and stronger than him. Instead of expressing sympathy, he robbed the dead body of a child the same age as him without another word. The man was right to withhold the supplies from the boy despite the risk.
He had gotten his hands on something special. An animal who would fight, no matter the fear, the risk, all to survive. The only problem was that an animal like that was hard to tame. He looked at the sleeping child before he glanced at the white-haired girl. They were the opposite, yet similar.
Both knew how to survive.
He nodded, before looking tapping the shoulders of the two men responsible for monitoring the children. "Those two, they'll report to me if they survive." His words carried enough weight and without question the soldiers saluted the man. He had a plan, those two only needed to live.
.
6 days have passed. There were more encounters. His body was streaked with wounds all of which were covered by bandages that only an amateur could apply so poorly. Hands riddled with blood; one knife lodged in his mouth while a cracked blade was held in his right hand. Left arm dangling to the side, skin almost entirely purple.
His feet moved unsteadily, scratches on his sole causing pain with each step. Eyes drooping, body exhausted and shivering. The violent rain that pelted him not strong enough to wash the dried blood that cling to him. He had lost the bag that he had with him a few days ago. 2 days no food with only the rain to quench his growing thirst. The fire that stormed inside his chest, raging onward.
There was a noise that despite the pouring rain, the boy had quickly become aware of.
Radio static.
Despite the pain he moved, hiding behind the nearest tree. His ears turned out the noises of rain as he raised his knife. He could hear it, the small squishes and steps of boots against mud. It got closer and as soon as he saw the man he rushed forward angling his knife he aimed for the man's throat.
It was instant and the boy found himself staring at the sky, his wrist locked within the grip of the soldier's hand. Any more pressure and the man above him would break it. The knife that was in his mouth was forcefully taken out. It was a fight he had no chance of winning. The man placing his left hand against the radio on his chest spoke. "1 confirmed." It was short and soon after the man spoke a boot planted itself against the boy's face.
He had quickly succumbed to the darkness. Only to then wake up with a startle. Cold water washed over his body. His arms hanging above him. The mud, blood, dirt all being washed away as the strange concoction of liquid escaped into the drain below.
He was too tired to struggle, to fight back. Those around him were not those he could win against. Still, that did not stop him from baring his fangs. For minutes the soldier sprayed his naked body with water. His wounds re-opened in the absence of bandages. Though that quickly stopped as the water began to fade. Shivering, he felt his mouth being covered, a cloth strip being placed within his mouth held tightly as a third soldier quickly examined his body. He could do nothing but watch as his wounds were cleaned out, the stinging of alcohol against his gashes, the tight wrapping of his broken arm, all while he could hardly close his mouth.
After that, there was little respect, wrapped in a small towel he was pushed forward, the bloody footsteps he left in his wake proof that only the most severe of his injuries had been taken care of. His body ached yet he was given no rest, as soon as they deemed him dry enough, clothes were forcibly placed over his form.
Taken to another room his eyes scanned the room. Kids, varying in ages younger and older stood in 3 neat rows consisting of 6 kids each all except the first, the filled rows separated by pairs. Some like him were extremely injured, others although rough looking had a much better condition. Taken to the first row he was placed at the very start and next to a girl, the same age, who was only a bit shorter than he was. Like his own, her hair was white and similarly her skin was that of a pale complexion.
It was there the similarities ended. Her skin was healthy, body slim but not malnourished, her injuries were small, scrapes across her legs and arms. A small mole on the left side under her bottom lip. Finally, her eyes, a pale grey blue. There was something about her eyes that the boy couldn't understand. Still, he captured her appearance.
The girl is doing much the same to him. Their time gazing at each other was short, a loud voice calling from the front of them.
"Attention!"
The man who spoke was one he recognized; it was the same man that he saw in the alleyway. It was the first time seeing him clearly, but he distinctly remembers one eye.
"You have no home. There will be no one who looks for you. All of you have been disposed of. The name you remember, the lives you lived, none of that matters now. From here on out you are soldiers of the S.E.A.R.S program, the ones you stand next to, are your family now. You will eat, sleep, and train together. If your partner dies, you die." His voice boomed over the room, many of the kids shaking, frightened. Despite their survival in the harsh rainforest, they were unprepared. The man continued, "All of you will be given new names, commit them to memory!" With a snap of his fingers the soldiers on standby approached groups of kids, handing them papers with names.
The only pair not given any were him and the girl. The man on the small stage stepped off, his stride carrying his large frame to them. With his one glaring eye he spoke, "Remember the name Solidus." Placing a finger on the girl's chest he named her, "Yorha." Grabbing a hand full of his hair Solidus looked the boy square in the eyes. The older man watched, the tired emerald green casting a hint of red. Jabbing his finger against the boy's chest wounds he spoke. "Jack. You two, take care of each other."
It wasn't a suggestion but a demand. The animal must have a leash, and the leash an animal, otherwise, they were both useless.