ĸorιѕнαвeттo「Inazuma Eleven」

II.v

 –The Pauper and the Spy –

The thirteen-year-old Shirou stood before the grave of his adopted parents, feeling absolutely nothing. He had just lost someone very dear to him, but was unable to cry – not even teardrops formed into the corners of his eyes. One would call him emotionless, but that wasn't the case. He did want to cry, he wanted to curse the world for taking away his dear parents, but he couldn't. Shirou blinked his eyes and turned his head to the right, glancing at a girl with armpit length hyacinth-lavender-colored hair. Her lavender-colored orbs were wet and red from the constant weeping.

"Hey, aren't those the kids who were adopted by Maeda couple?" Shirou heard a voice speak and when he turned around, he saw a group of elderly women having stopped near them in order to gossip about the rumors. Shirou's eyes remained emotionless and all their light and color had been drained away. He had only been left with colorless void – his eyes seemed to be sucking in everyone who dared to look at him.

Again someone was whispering something bad about them.

Once again someone was blaming them for something they hadn't done.

The women seemed startled of the sudden glare they received, but even it didn't seem to discourage them all too much. "I heard the boy was the one who killed them. Apparently he was protecting the girl weeping next to him from the drunk father. Once the father was out of the way, he went after the mother who had witnessed the whole scenario." One of the elderly women gossiped, as if she was a professor who knew everything what was happening in the city.

It was amazing to what extends people went when creating lies from their own imagination and fear. Shirou had always known that he wasn't liked by the citizens for being an outsider, but he didn't understand why they had to come up with such absurd lies in order to soak his reputation even more. He didn't mind much about the fact that people were badmouthing him, it was something he had gotten used to, but he wouldn't tolerate someone talking bad about his parents or her. They would surely pay for it.

He was ready to show them what it really meant to beat someone till death.

Ominous aura suddenly surrounded the all-so-kind gray-haired boy. His face had darkened and the stare of his blank eyes was empty, yet all so agitated. The women moved back the very moment they saw Shirou taking a step towards them. The kind smile on his face had disappeared and the smirk was so wicked; the boy seemed to have lost himself completely. He looked like he was ready to kill the women, not caring about anything in the world anymore.

He was stopped by a strong arm on his shoulder.

The gray-haired boy made a swift movement and flashed a peeved face at the person stopping him. He hissed in anger only to have strong arms wrap around him completely. Shirou's eyes widened in shock and their seemed to get some of their color back. The intimating air around him disappeared completely. A hand was placed before his eyes to cover his vision.

"You can say what you want, but I know that my son is not a murderer. Don't you ever dare to talk bad about him when I'm around." Shirou heard the first son of his adopted parents, and the man who was going to be his father from then on threaten the women. The women flashed despised looks at the man and left while mumbling vexed.

Shirou felt his whole body starting to tremble non-stop as he was held by his new father. He took hold of the man's strong arm and gripped hard, his nails sinking into the skin of the man. Shirou tried to hold back his tears, but the feelings were too overwhelming, he had finally managed to process what had happened him to. He had lost his dear people, and they weren't going to return to his side. He wasn't going to see them anymore – ever again.