"The darkness has always been there; I just don't know what to do with it. Not only have I felt this way for as long as I can remember, but I feel like the darkness has only grown stronger since the death of my parents."
"That was eight years ago anyway, but the topic is still valid. It's only caused me problems during my teenage years. I've had nothing but trouble since then. Nobody to take me in. It seems like they can see this darkness in me, or perhaps it's just more obvious in my personality than I think.
"I have no problem with being homeless anyway; that way I cannot be judged."
As Saint walked down the streets of Matro, the capital of Britel, people shot him looks of disgust.
"Why is that boy speaking to himself?" a group of women said.
"Why is his hair white?" said another.
Saint ignored them and continued walking; he had learned how to block out the negativity.
And just because others found it weird that he would talk to himself, he felt that was no reason for him to stop.
He had been traveling alone for ages, searching for nothing in particular, just hoping to find something. Somewhere that he could settle.
Originally he lived in a smaller town in Britel, called Feston, but after his parents suicide, he had traveled to the capital city hoping that whatever he was looking for would be found here.
Bang, bang, bang.
He heard loud slaps from inside the building to his right, and sounds of exertion.
The building was made from bricks, and its windows were covered with curtains from the inside, so he could not see where the sounds came from. But there was a sign on top of the building.
Angels Boxing Gym
Boxing?
Saint had never been familiar with boxing. Of course, he had heard of it, as the world champions of the sport were some of the richest athletes in the world. But it was never something he had paid much attention to.
He was, after all, very small for his age.
However, something spiked his interest that day. Plus, he was incredibly curious about where the noises were coming from.
So he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The interior of the gym was large and packed with people of all different shapes and sizes.
The noise, however, was coming from the ring at the center of the room.
There were two boys inside, and many people around the ring watching intensely.
"Use your jab, Tester, you fool! Your arms are so much longer than his; yet you're fighting on the inside!" an old man shouted at one of the boys in the ring.
Based on what he said, Tester was the boy up against the ropes, currently being battered with hooks to the body. He was fair-skinned and tall, with a handsome face and long black hair.
The boy delivering the punches was shorter, though still taller than Saint. He was dark-skinned and muscular with braids, and his punches were all thrown with power.
The taller boy finally managed to escape the barrage of punches and circled the ring, throwing out his jab continuously to keep the other boy at range.
Ring, ring, ring.
A bell rang from the side, signaling the end of the round, and the two boys touched gloves and made to exit the ring.
"The jab at the end was good, but you should have been using that the whole time," the old man said to Tester as they left the ring together.
The other boy was speaking to a different old man, but his appearance made it seem like that might have been his father.
He seemed pleased with the younger man, patting him on the shoulder and leaving the ring without having to say anything.
Saint had not noticed, but he was now stood right at the edge of the ring. He had been so captured by the bout that his legs had taken him closer to the ring without him having known it.
"Can I help you with something?" a blunt voice came from beside him.
Saint turned to see a man standing there. He had a buzz cut, wore a black tracksuit, and was average height. Nothing incredible stood out about the man, but Saint felt like he had an incredible presence, for a reason he was unaware of.
"Sorry, I was drawn in by the noise," Saint replied, turning to leave. Though he did not make it far before he felt a hand on his shoulder.
Instinctively, Saint turned and tried to slap the hand off his shoulder, but they were too quick, removing their hand so that Saint missed.
He turned to see the man with the buzz cut standing over him, inspecting his build.
Saint felt like meat at the butcher's market, and the feeling filled him with anger that he forced himself to contain.
Finally, after thorough examination, the man spoke.
"There's something interesting about you, little man. Why did you really come here?"
Saint wasn't sure what the man was asking, but he knew that he didn't like being called "little man."
"Do you want to box?" the man asked suddenly, leaving Saint speechless.
He had not come into the gym with the intention of asking to box, but when he was offered the opportunity, he for some reason felt like he had been given what he had wanted.
With hardly any hesitation, he nodded in response.
The man flashed a grin on his face as he turned to address the gym.
"Which junior rookie wants to go up against..." he turned to Saint, not knowing what to call him.
"My name's Saint," he replied.
"Which junior rookies want to go up against Saint? No one over 57kg; the boy is tiny."
Everybody's attention was on Saint, and he noticed multiple people eyeing him, even the two boys who had fought in the ring just before him.
It was a different person who stepped forward, though. He seemed to be the same age, but easily taller, and with a lean, muscular build.
His skin was white, and his hair was blonde, and from the way that the girls in the gym were staring at him, he was clearly popular.
"I'll give him a little test, coach; see what he's made of," the blondie said, a smile wide on his face as he made his way over to the ring.
"Then so be it, someone get Saint wrapped and gloved up. We're always looking for new Angels, so let's see what he can do."