THE CYCLE OF HATRED

chapter 79: the raid part 3: the unbreakable Kirishima!

....A ten-year-old boy crouched behind the crumbling brick wall of the abandoned alley, his small frame trembling as if an invisible tremor coursed through his bones. His breath hitched in his throat, each inhale shallow and ragged. His eyes squeezed shut, tears threatening to spill over, and he covered his ears with trembling hands, trying desperately to block out the noise-the shouting, the shouts of men, the distant sirens, and most of all, the desperate cries of a boy in peril.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." the boy muttered repeatedly, voice muffled behind his palms. His knees hugged his chest as he curled into himself, trying to disappear into the shadows. His mind spun with fear, a whirlwind of panic and helplessness. He knew he couldn't stay hidden forever; he knew that he had to do something but the terror of what might happen if he moved was paralyzing.

Across the alley, amidst the chaos, a different voice pierced through-the frantic cries of another boy no older than the boy himself was being dragged roughly by two men wearing dark clothing and headbands adorned with music notes.

"Please! Please, somebody! Help! Please!" the boy screamed, voice cracking with terror and desperation.

From behind the wall, the first boy's body shuddered as he listened to the harrowing scene unfold. His mind was torn-part wanting to help but was also frozen by fear. His fingers trembled as he clutched his knees, and his heart hammered like a drum in his chest.

"Please... please... I'm sorry... I didn't mean to see... please..." the boy said repeating those same words over and over again, his voice was barely audible, trembling with each syllable, as if speaking might somehow make the nightmare stop.

The boy clenched his fists against the rough wall, nails digging into his palms as he fought the urge to scream or run. His mind was spinning-images of the second boy, crying out for help, flashed vividly, his eyes squeezed shut tighter, tears threatening to spill over, but he willed them back

"Help! Please! Somebody-!" The second boy called out once again, his voice raw and trembling with desperation only for one of the men to hold his mouth over the boy's face, covering his mouth and muffling his voice

The boy's heart hammered against his chest as he heard the boy's voice grow weaker, muffled by the hand covering his mouth while the first boy's eyes frantically darted around, a hero, looking for someone, anyone to come and help but it was no use, there were no heroes coming, and he knew that, the only one who could do something was him but he was too terrified, too petrified to even step in

The boy looked back, meeting the other boy's eyes for the briefest of moments, red meeting purple, looking at him desperately, his face contorted in terror, eyes wide with fear, tears streaking down his cheeks as he desperately called out for him, His help but he just froze still, looking at the boy with wide, tear-filled eyes, the boy practically hearing the boy's cry for him in his mind

"'Please... help me... somebody...'" the voice kept repeating in his mind, echoing over and over again, begging him for help, an image that would be burned into his memory like an unbearable scar before he heard the two men started to talk, causing his eyes to widen before he quickly whipped his head back while covering his mouth, hoping the two villains didn't hear a thing

"The boss will be happy about this" the first voice said with a grin

"That's lord, show some respect" The second voice said with a hiss

The boy's body shook uncontrollably, his breathing becoming ragged and shallow with each inhale as he trembled with fear. He pressed his palms harder against his ears, as if trying to block out the torment while tears continued to spill all over his cheeks as he desperately tried to stay hidden and his body curled inward, knees drawn up to his chest, trembling like a leaf in a storm. His heart pounded so loudly he thought it might burst. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to run - to rescue the boy, to scream for help, to do anything - but he was frozen, rooted behind the crumbling wall before eventually, he heard the footsteps growing distant as time passed by, but the echo of the boy's muffled protests still haunted his ears.