Prologue

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Memories flash in his head as he stumbles off the beach in just his black shorts. He couldn't comprehend the flashing images, going way to fast for him to make out what they were.

He looks around, his vision blurred, objects whipping past him. His legs ache, as if he had just ran a marathon.

His vision starts to become clear, and his thoughts stand still, focusing on one question he didn't know how to answer.

Where was he?

The boy looks around once more, finding the blurred objects to be vehicles of some sort, all different in shape, size, and colour. The noise startles him, making him flinch and curl even further into a ball.

He lifts his head from his knees once again, spotting a few people staring at him. They must think he's crazy.

Or on drugs.

To avoid any further attention, the ebony-haired boy stumbles to his feet and walks off like he knows where he's going. He looks at the sky, in attempt to avoid the excruciating pain in his feet. His eyes wander, exploring the place with his violet-coloured eyes.

He counts the floors of the tall buildings, listens to cars fly by him and the occasional crunch of leaves beneath his feet, feels the air nipping at his skin as he makes his way down the side of the highway.

He smiles. Then he stops, feeling his energy drain away as he pretends to be normal and smile like everything is okay. He isn't okay. He's lost, doesn't know where he's headed, and he doesn't even know how he got here.

He attempts to get people's attention, but they always give him a weirded out look, and walk off. He looks over at the lady who ignored him, backing up in a panic. Everyone thinks he's a crackhead. Everyone thinks he's on drugs. Where is he supposed to go? What is he going to do? How-

"Oof!", he mutters as he bumps into someone. "I-I'm sorry... I didn't mean to...", he trails off, avoiding eye contact while he pats down his hair.

"That's alright. Are you alright? Are you lost? You never see kids your age walking along the highway.", says a young, adult male voice.

The boy slowly looks up. There are two males. One has smooth light-brown skin and short light-brown hair. He gave off a kind smile, adjusting his glasses.

The other is a taller male, with short black hair, and a white tuft at the front. He has a fair skin tone, and a noticeable scar running across his nose. He seemed to be wearing eyeliner, and had a father-like smile on his face.

"Um, could you tell me where I am? I seemed to have forgotten."

The two men exchange glances. "Do you have anywhere to stay?", the shorter of the two speaks up, ignoring the boy's request.

"N-no", he stutters, his lips making their way into a sheepish smile.

"One second, sweetheart-" the male turns and starts whispering to the other. The boy pretends he can't hear him, but he has to admit the man is a poor whisperer. "-Takashi, we can't just leave him out here on his own. You know most people around here wouldn't take in a boy on the sidewalks."

"Adam, can we even afford to take him in?"

"I doubt he's that expensive. He looks around fourteen, maybe fifteen?"

The taller man sighs. "Alright fine."

They both quickly turn around. "So we have an offer for you", says the man named "Takashi".

"You can either stay with us, or stay here on the streets on your own", the man named "Adam" finishes.

"Y-you- you wouldn't mind if I stayed with you?", the boy asks.

"Just one thing though- What's your name?", Takashi asks.

"Ah- uhm..." His head pounds, making him clutch at his hair. The two exchange worried glances.

"Are you alright?"

"Keith", the boy says out of nowhere. His hands are placed on his hips, hugging himself while sending a small smile their way.

"Nice to meet you Keith, my name is Adam, and this is Takashi-"

"You can just call me Shiro."

"-Let's head back home, Takashi. And we're taking the car next time, my legs are killing me!"

They each take one of Keith's hand, and they lead him back home.

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