It was stormy, the sun was sad, it had stormed away, and hid behind the clouds, the clouds thought we were the reason, so it took out its wrath on us.   

I was in my mom’s arms being cradled, while she ran away from people who chased us, I couldn’t look at the back at the people but, mom looked worried, so I raise my tiny hands, to touch her face. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ I was crying, as I watched my Mom, being grabbed around the neck by someone, she looked towards me, no at the person holding me, she shouts at the person, where she shouts,   

“Don’t touch him you filthy animal!!”   

But I couldn’t see who it was, mom looks straight at me tears ruining her beautiful face, my voice had turned cold as I wailed, my arms were out. towards her, I see her flailing her hands, trying to get free from her holder, to no avail, my cries intensify--   

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________   

*Trrrr* *Trrr*   

The sound of the alarm clock on the shelf wakes me up. I open my eyes to the ceiling decorated with a space theme, with lightly dim stars. I feel something slide down my right cheek, racing to reach my ear. I lift my hand to stop it, to feel its wetness. I get the same feeling on the other cheek, but this time, I’m late as I feel it hit my tragus and change its direction it moves down, but before it could, I wipe it off,   

“Wet.”   

I look up at the ceiling, lost,   

*Trrrrr* *Trrrr*   

The alarm rings again, and I’m forced to wake, shutting it off I look in front of me, at the mirror,   

A boy in mid-teens, lean body with trained muscle, pure black frizzy hair, silver eyes, lightly tanned. An above-average face, with marks of tears running down of it.   

“Pitiful.”   

I call myself, getting up, I feel the blanket to come off me, and the rest of my naked body comes out to view,   

“*Huff*”   

Signing I head to the bathroom.   

Getting out of the bathroom I'm greeted with the view of a trashed room, things laid wherever they found a place, while one portion of the bed was filled with piled clothes. With an irk I move around and take out my uniform from the cupboard, white pants with emerald strips, an olive-colored, half sleeves shirt, with the academy's logo on it.  

A square box, inside it, a half circle with a revolver on it. 'Revole Mag. 6' written below it. 

The best school in the nation of Drood. This school takes the War Hero as it's predecessor, who used a Revolver, the school uses the same style, the Revolver, to teach its students. The efficiency of precision, perception, stability, and calmness to have students excel in war.  

Not caring about other things, I get dressed, get my bag, and head down.  

Downstairs I see my father sitting on the chair in the dining room, and my (pseudo) mother beside him, they seem to be talking in whispers, Saraha the housemaid seems to ignore them while preparing breakfast.  

My father is in his early 40's, little fat if you ask me, he had gone to the military school. In his time, no one was a war hero so no school had a predecessor to follow, he has silky white hair, light skin, brown eyes, nothing seemed similar to me, and he has a rugged personality. The (pseudo) mother is in her late 30's, she is a brunette, light skin, dark brown eyes, slim and beautiful, over here too no similarity.  

Saraha is the lady who is living with us for a long time, she had lost her parents in a tragic incident after which my parents took her in. Out of all the family members she is only one who is the closest to me, she is around 22 years old, her skin is pinkish, green eyes, red hair, she looks luscious, and probably that is also the reason that both, (pseudo) mother and sister hate her.  

While I descend the stairs, I purposely make a sound to let them know of my arrival. The (pseudo) mother flinches and looks towards me,  

"Good Morning. Sally."  

She smiles at me and says,  

"Mom!! I'm not a girl.-"  

Making an exaggerative movement I say,  

"- and Good Morning Mom, Dad."  

"Good Morning."  

Father says in his solemn voice. After greeting them, I go to Saraha,  

"Good Morning, Saraha, hope what you are cooking is going to be good."  

She replies in a smooth tone,  

"Morning, Master Salvas, *hmm* you have been loving my cooking all this time, so I'm sure you are going to love it."  

I look at her, smile at her, she smiles back. I take a seat in front of the Father and (Pseudo) Mother.  

"Salvas."  

"Yes, Father."  

"Unlike your sister, you got into Revole Mag. 6, without my or your mother's help, I'm proud of you for that. You have involuntary made our reputation reach heights among all our colleagues, peers, and family. Keep on doing things like it and all that you want, we will do our best to fulfill it."  

"Yes, Father."  

Saying that he goes back to talking with mother. I look around feeling something amiss, I muse at what I feel missing, my fingers move, that's when I get it, my phone, that's missing. I try to remember where I kept it yesterday.  

"Master Salvas, here's your breakfast. Master, Madam." 

Saraha puts forth plates with toasted bread, cheese, a bowl of salad, some bacon, and sausage on the table. 

I take the toast, put veggies on it, cheese slice on top of it, some bacon and sausage on top, and silence them all by putting another toast on top. Chewing it up, I kill the other that I made. 

Saraha leaves the room when I was eating and comes back before I finish, the only difference is, she carries my phone with her. She keeps it beside me, I get off and wash my hands. Picking up my bag I move to leave out of the house. 

"Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad. Bye, Saraha." 

As I wear my shoes to leave. Saraha comes to me, 

"Sally, you left your phone." 

Giggling she tells me. I male a stoic face and stare at her. Covering her mouth, she suppresses her laughter, I grab her hand which is holding the phone and hug her, 

"I'm happy that you can live with us now." 

I say as we separate, she stays quiet and looks down, 

"Thank you." 

She says meekly. 

HentaiNingen

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