This is a world like any other world. It's as ordinary as can be. With ordinary people, living an ordinary life. But amongst all of this, there are always the ones either above or below ordinary and that is where you'll find this little boy who, on the outside is below ordinary but on the inside it's the complete opposite. However, because he has these two contradicting terms, he also has another one, that being…

As the sun settled on the horizon, a gradient of yellow, orange, and reddish hues painted the evening sky. A figure shrouded in obscurity is flying over the orange hue of the sea, heading towards some sort of island.

Somewhere distant, a person is walking barefoot through some sort of town. "Agh, Damn it all! I'll make those idiots pay." Muttered a young boy who was heavily breathing, with a small black bag in his mouth. With messy black hair and blackish-greyish eyes, wearing torn, rugged, old clothing, with scars and bruises all over his thin and frail body.

He's holding his right arm which seemed to be bleeding. With his head down he wanders what seems to be a small little town, with around 10-15 small tent-like shelters, with scraps, garbage, and junk everywhere.

This young boy you see here is named Akishima. He is a 10-year-old orphan who has no one to look to and is now living in a huge pile of junk, where homeless people settle, Garton The Junkyard. His mother died shortly after giving birth to him and his father died on his 6th birthday while trying to hustle money to buy something for his son.

*The Scene Switches To 7:00 pm At One Of The Small Tents…*

"Uh, finally I'm home," Akishima utters, he sits on his dirty mattress whilst heavily breathing after the long trek to what he calls home. He drops the bag on the floor next to his feet. The structure seems pieced together from scraps, planks, and bits of metal scavenged from the surrounding junk.

Despite the makeshift nature of his shelter, Akishima's right arm is still throbbing from the injury. Thankfully, he's managed to apply some pressure to the wound.

"Agh! If it weren't for those fools I wouldn't be like this right now," he exclaims, the pain evident in his voice. Anger simmers beneath the surface as he adds, "I'll make those jerks pay!" Fists clenched, his frustration boils over as he continues, "I'll get my revenge, you hear me, Yuji!" With a burst of emotion, Akishima takes out his anger on a nearby metal pipe, delivering a resounding strike. However, it did leave a bruise on his knuckles.

He then takes off his old shirt which reveals his thin frame; however, there are still muscles apparent on the boy, and many scars, but a huge and very noticeable one is the one on his back. It's a huge burn scar that almost covers his entire back and with closer inspection, there's a slight resemblance to that of a lion. Afterward, he reaches for the small bag he had with him, takes out a first aid kit, and proceeds to patch up the wound on his right arm along with his knuckles.

After completely patching up his wounds, our boy then thinks, "I'm quite hungry. I haven't eaten anything since this morning, and fighting those soldiers took a lot of energy." his belly grumbled, his right hand on his chin as he tilted his head to the right, the thought crossing his mind.

While thinking, someone calls him from out of the tent. "Hey Akishima! You there?!"

Akishima was a little startled at first but after figuring out whose voice it was, a warm, slight smile lightened his expression. He proceeded to exit the tent still shirtless and saw the person.

Realizing that his suspicions were correct, he greeted the person, "What's up meathead? You're not dead yet. That's a surprise." with his arms crossed, head titled to his right and a smirk on his face, while referring to the individual as 'meathead' as he jokes.

The person smiled as he responded, "Oh, I'm alright. Still hanging in there. I won't be dying any time soon."

The individual was a little taller than Akishima and also had a wider frame. He had orangish-brown hair with reddish-brown eyes, his arms crossed just like Akishima's, and his whole body was filled with many scars, even more than Akishima's. He wore very similar clothing to that of Akishima; however, they were larger.

Akishima then realized a large sack filled with something at the person's foot and inquired about it, "What's that?" awaiting an answer.

The person answered his question after realizing what he was talking about. "Oh, this? It's my day's hunt!" He exclaimed with a cheerful smile.

Akishima was a little shocked that the person managed to gather this much food from the junk in just one day.

The person then revealed the reason behind his visit. "You see, I came here to have a little feast with yah." With a huge, cheerful smile he picked up the sack to show how big it was, and soon after they made a little fire with their sitting flanking the fire, and ate a good meal while talking.

But Akishima's companion wasn't finished surprising him yet as he pulled out a bottle of alcohol.

"Wow! Is that?!" Akishima exclaimed in shock. Questioning if his eyes were not deceiving him.

His companion replied, "Yep that's right it's a full-sized bottle that hasn't even been opened yet." answering Akishima's question as he held the bottle closer.

He then continues as he opens the bottle, "We may be under age but who's stopping us?! After all, 'One man's trash is another's treasure!'. So it's time to party!" he exclaimed as he poured alcohol for himself and Akishima.

They enjoyed their night and soon after the scene switches to Akishima sleeping in his tent.

*Within Akishima's Dream…*

"It's almost time… Soon it'll all begin" A deep, distorted, eerie, and shadowy voice chuckles.

Akishima, still in his dream, slowly turns around to see the person who was talking.

But as he's about to see the person he suddenly woke up. "Huh!?" Akishima jumps up from his sleep, and not of his own will.

He then questions himself, "What the hell was that?" He says, holding the right side of his face with his left hand, understandably confused and not knowing what the voice was who spoke to him. He shrugs it off and goes back to sleep.

*The Next Day, 7:00 am…*

Yawn, Akishima murmurs as he stirs awake. Stretching, he lets out a contented sigh, "Ahh..."

Another day, another big hunt, he thinks, his face lighting up with excitement. He reaches for the bag, which also contains a toothbrush and toothpaste. He takes them out of the bag, with a slight smile on his face.

At this moment he remembers back to last night about the dream he had. "What was that dream? It never happened before. Plus, at that moment it felt too real to be a dream." Hinting at the fact that it was his first time experiencing such a realistic dream.

But he then remembered that he drank too much alcohol last night and that it was his friend who must've carried him to his bed. "Maybe it was because I drank too much last night." he shrugs it off once more as it's not time to think about things like that at the moment. "Well, whatever that was worrying about it won't solve anything." He said with a relaxed smile.

"I should just be grateful that I managed to steal this from Yuji's HQ," he looks at the toothbrush and paste, a touch of amusement in his voice.

"Along with the first aid kit I used to patch up my wound." He continues, "My old toothbrush sadly met its end thanks to my clumsiness and toothpaste. Well, I was already running out since I'd been using my finger to brush my teeth. It was only a matter of time." Memories of the past come flooding back as he exits his tent and heads in a certain direction.

*After Sometime Of Walking…*

"Ah, there it is, the standpipe," Akishima breathes a sigh of relief. After navigating through the cluttered junk for what felt like an eternity, the standpipe is finally within his line of sight.

"Hey! Aki! Aki! Akishima!" a young boy's voice rings out, accompanied by energetic waving. The boy seems to be around his age.

"Grrr… How many times do I have to tell you?!" Akishima's patience wears thin as his frustration starts to bubble up.

"Eh?" responds the boy, tilting his head to the right in confusion.

"Stop calling me that!!" Akishima's voice raises a notch, a mix of annoyance and irritation in his tone.

The young boy, whom our young boy, Akishima is talking to and who is also annoying Akishima, name is Hisashi, a 10-year-old orphan just like Akishima who is a resident of Garton as well and is also Akishima's self-proclaimed friend. He has dark-brownish hair, purplish-hazelnut eyes, and wears old clothing like Akishima, however, they're not as torn, and has bruises and scars all over his body which are a lot less than what Akishima has, and is around the same height as Akishima. At the current moment, they're both heading to the standpipe.

*They've Reached The Standpipe…*

"What? Why?" Hisashi's confusion is evident as they both start brushing their teeth.

"Don't play dumb with me, you know why," Akishima retorts, his irritation palpable.

"Well, if I knew why, why would I be asking you?" Hisashi's expression still bears a look of bewilderment.

"Alright, smartass, you want me to spell it out for you!?" Akishima's frustration grows even more pronounced.

"Sure," Hisashi nonchalantly responds.

"Alright then, I don't like it when you call me Aki 'cause it's a girl's name," Akishima admits, a slight blush of embarrassment dusting his cheeks.

"Oh, you keep on saying that, but have you forgotten what I said? I can't bother to say Akishima, it's a mouthful," Hisashi rationalizes, their tooth brushing almost complete.

"Hey," a deep, menacing voice interrupts, sending a shiver down both Akishima and Hisashi's spines. They stood there with their hands on their toothbrushes, facing the standpipe, cold sweat captivating their whole bodies. It was as if a tall, muscular figure stood behind them, a chilling presence that left them frightened, shocked, and afraid.

"N-No way!" their minds scream in unison as they're positive they know who's behind them.

"Good morning," the imposing figure starts, a sly smirk playing on his lips.

"Y-Yu-Yuji?!" Akishima and Hisashi's voices quiver, the terror evident in their faces.

"Little twerps," the newcomer concludes, his tone dripping with menace.

(To Be Continued)