"What is going on?" Shiro asked himself.
Suddenly the man let go of the boy who rubbed his right wrist, blood appeared on the tip of his index finger. Blood dripped off his fingers onto the white marble floor.
The mystery man quickly wiped the blood using his handkerchief. He turned around to look at the crowd who looked confused and shocked.
"You should learn how to throw better weapons," the man said coldly and pushed the boy back to the others.
The crowd bursted out in laughter again. They knew that the two boys didn't stand a chance.
Shiro turned back to stare at the strangers face, who stared right back. Those dark brown eyes were piercing through him.
His eyebrows were furrowed as he glared at Shiro and he felt his breath hitch in his throat. Those deep brown eyes were looking straight at him. He didn't feel uncomfortable though. He never was with anyone else. He was alone with his mind and soul.
