To Be The Strongest

4. Fight

Italics represent thoughts, flashbacks, and memories.

Bold represents sign language or when Y/N spells into hands.

Underline represents important documents or letters being read aloud

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CONTAINS GRAPHIC LANGUAGE, THEMES, AND OTHER DEPICTIONS INVOLVING VIOLENCE

Third Person POV:

The small child ran out of the house, stumbling down the crumbling stairs. They skidded to a halt as a horse and carriage nearly hit the child.

"Watch it, brat!" The driver yelled.

Y/N stepped back, fearing the noise and commotion occurring in the city. Normally, the streets were calm when Y/N and their mother took their strolls, but it was currently noon; the busiest time of the day.

The child's wide E/C eyes scanned up and down the street, hesitant on where to start their search. They squinted, seeing the hill they hiked up to see the sun in the distance.

Mama! She might be at our spot!

A toothy grin spread across their face as they took off running, trying to keep to the sides of the streets to avoid getting hit or trampled. Pants left their mouth the further they ran, eyes never leaving their destination. That was, until, the child collided with another person.

"Oh!" A woman exclaimed as Y/N fell backwards from the force, skinning their elbows and hands from the fall.

Y/N let out a gasp, but quickly composed themselves, scrambling to get up.

"Woah, darling, hold on!" The woman ordered.

Y/N paled.

Oh no, I am in trouble. What if she finds momma and tells her how much trouble I'm making in the streets??

The woman crouched down and offered a hand to the child with a frown on her face.

Y/N blinked, taking in the woman's beautiful appearance.

Her wavy, long, raven coloured hair framed her shoulders as she bent down to meet the child's frightened eyes. Her eyes were a piercing steel blue color, almost grey, but held warmth and concern the more she looked at the child. The woman smiled, and took the bottom layer of her white, frilled dress and gently grabbed the child's hand.

"Be careful, honey. You shouldn't be running so fast in this part of town; it's dangerous."

Y/N saw movement to the right of the woman and saw a boy, roughly her own age, clutching the fabric of the woman's dress. He too, shared the same black hair and mesmerizing eyes, yet his were more narrowed, almost in a scowl. He raised his eyebrows once Y/N met his gaze, and he turned his face back into the woman's dress.

"What's your name? Where's your parents?" The kind woman asked.

Y/N watched as the woman gently patted her dress onto the wounds of Y/N's hands. The S/C skin was broken in some areas, with blood streaking the palms. The woman didn't seem to mind this, though, as she kept dabbing away the blood. While moving to
Y/N's elbows, the woman smiled.

"My name is Kuchel. And he," she drew out while nudging the boy forward with her other hand, "is Levi. Forgive him, he doesn't talk much."

Y/N blinked as they yet again peered into the boy's wary eyes. He gave a curt nod before glancing away.

"Darling?" The woman asked again once she was done patting away the wounds.

Y/N paused, not really knowing how to speak to the woman. After all, Y/N didn't know of anyone else besides their mother and gamma who could speak to them.

With a sigh, Y/N met the gaze of Kuchel and brought their hand into the woman's. Y/N then traced slow letters into her hand, hoping the woman would understand.

*just pretend Kuchel is watching your name being traced out by each letter*

"Y/N?" Kuchel asked.

Y/N nodded, thankful that the woman could understand. Not many people in the underground were able to read or write.

"Well," Kuchel sighed, "Hello, Y/N. Where are your parents? Did you lose them in the streets? It's very easy to d.."

Y/N grabbed the woman's hand again, shortening her sentences to save time and effort.

N-O      D-A-D; G-O-N-E.     M-O-M     L-O-S-T.

"Where did you lose her?" Kuchel questioned, her face morphing into that of concern the more the small child spoke.

G-O-N-E         D-A-Y-S.

Kuchel felt her eyes widen, knowing who the mother must be of this child.

A murder had happened in the brothel a few nights ago. Thankfully, she was not involved, but she was the one who reported all of the commotion. It occurred right after midnight, waking Levi and her from their sleep. There was yelling between a man, who appeared drunk by his slurred words, between the rooms, and a woman. The military police had confirmed the following morning that she was killed not long after the fight broke out. Apparently, the man was angry with the woman, who was soon identified as M/N L/N. Kuchel did not pick up much, but heard enough to know they were separating, or the woman was trying to, at least. The name Y/N was thrown around a lot with the man, who seemed angry with the entire situation. Kuchel couldn't help but piece together that those people fighting were Y/N's parents. Levi, who heard most of the fighting, had trouble falling asleep following the report later that night into the early hours of the morning.

Kuchel remained frozen, kneeling on the cobblestone, unsure of what to say or do. This poor child, whom she had never even met up until currently, had no idea of the grim situation involving her mother. What would one do in a situation like this? A child, neverless around the age of her own, wandering around the most dangerous part of the city unsupervised. Kuchel frowned, a wrinkle settling between her thin, black eyebrows. There was nothing she could do.

So, Kuchel lifted her dress to her knee, unclasping something from her garter belt. She fumbled for a minute before pulling her clothing back down, handing an object to Y/N. It reflected light for a fraction of a second as it was put into the child's hand.

"Y/N," the woman spoke in a near whisper. "I need you to take this. Never lose it and don't let anyone who is mean to you come near you. Just show them the pattern, or  hit them with the blade and they will leave you alone. I can't help you, but know that I am sorry.."

Y/N's face become one of confusion as well, realizing that Kuchel had given her a blade. On it, there was an "A" marked into the handle.

But..

Y/N thought.

Why is she sorry?

While the child was looking at the engraving of the handle, Kuchel took the opportunity to leave into the crowd, taking Levi with her. Y/N went to grab the woman's hand again, about to question the object when they only grasped air.

Y/N only lifted their gaze, staring blankly to where the woman and boy once were.