Long Journey || ATEEZ

San's Resolution

2017

The boy sighed as he slumped down onto the gritty, muddy floor. He swept his long, black, overgrown hair out of his eyes and stared at the puddles just centimetres away from his bare, blistered feet. It had been raining the night before; he knew because he had to sleep through it – out in the cold, with nothing but his flimsy clothes to protect him.

Clothes that he had stolen.

The boy's name was Choi San, a name given to him by his father who had wanted him to grow up to be a comforting hill for some, but an enormous mountain they daren't challenge for others. A truly grand mountain – but right now, he couldn't be either of those things for anyone; he was alone.

And on the run.

His parents, he had barely known. Only there for a sliver of his newborn life, his uncle had taken over the helm when they were gone and took care of him for a good seven years of his life; before his uncle left the world too. He was then taken in by an orphanage and stayed there for a while, until that, too, was burnt to the ground as a result of the war. That had been several years ago. He was eighteen now, and still living on the streets.

He shivered, and brought his knees up closer to his chest. It was cold today and he wished that he had warmer clothes to wear.

He was alone.

And in danger.

He was in Taerrya, hometown of several gangs. And one of them was after him, because he was a demon. The boss of the Cherries gang was particularly fascinated by that particular species of Dark Creature, and would do anything to get them under his rule.

San had never been a normal demon.

According to his uncle, he was special, and he could feel it, too. Reaching back to the early recesses of his memory, he had always been able to see an aura around people. His uncle had told him none of the demons he knew had that ability either – not even San's parents.

San was one-of-a-kind.

As a light drizzle started up and the people of Taerrya got out their umbrellas, or rushed to find shelter, San stared listlessly at the auras surrounding him. There, that person yelling into the phone was red inside. He was angry. And a reckless person; light blue haze surrounded him.

San still didn't quite understand why he had been gifted with such abilities. Sure, it was convenient to know if somebody was lying to you, or knowing if someone was a manipulative, deceptive snake, but what else did it do? At this point, looking at all the losses and misfortunes he'd suffered in his eighteen years of life, it was almost a curse.

A curse that enabled him to see killers for what they were.

The demon boy shivered again as a man walked past. He was dark grey outside, and the stench of death was strong on him. San retched, but nobody took notice. After all, Wanderers were common on such wealthy streets.

Another dark grey passed, and then a pink. Then a brown, an orange and a yellow. There were so many different types of people out there.

A black one passed, and San stirred. A killer of many, black meant, but that wasn't what had stabbed an icy cold knife of fear into him: it was the tattoo on his neck, startlingly red and in the shape of a cherry.

To Choi San, it meant danger. To a gangster, it symbolised the Cherries gang.

Before the gangster could notice, San quickly picked up Shiber, a shiba inu plushie gifted to him by his uncle – and his only possession – and scrambled away.

* * *

How long would this go on for? Staying in this godsforsaken town, and running away to some other street corner at the slightest hint of danger? San didn't know. It wasn't like he could leave this city. Because everywhere else was filled with the scary men with the guns and the white masks and the outfits. At least Taerrya didn't have those. They had gangsters instead.