vivesco | inazuma eleven ficlets [very slow updates]

[two.] hang us in the louvre

[ hang us in the louvre ]

. . .

au
how the boy with a
heart made of ice met
the boy kissed by fire

. . .

SUZUNO was only four when his parents died in a freak accident.

They were fighting, as usual, and fighting never scared Suzuno. He forced himself to get accustomed to the screaming, thinking they would never stop even if it meant it would to save their marriage. Even if it meant it would affect him, their child.

Though this particular time, he was petrified.

He was in the car with them, his small body trembling in the back seat. His father was drunk, and his mother was hysterical. Suzuno remembers how they both were facing each other, while the car was moving faster than what normal was to a four year old. They were arguing about money, family, selfishness, and his father's addiction.

It all happened so quickly. Like ice breaking as it hit the ground. Another vehicle crashed onto their car, mostly onto the side where Suzuno's mother was. The car went flying, and was flipped upside down. Suzuno felt like he was jumping on a trampoline. After the impact, he could only watch his motionless parents.

He observed the crimson red fluid flowing endlessly on his mother's thin arms and his father's silver head. It was a beautiful color, he thought. Later, sirens loudly rang in his ear, and it was only when the rescuers covered his parents in plain white cloth did he realize that death had taken their lives.

And Suzuno didn't cry. He never once did.

So when a new boy came into the orphanage, while throwing a tantrum, he was baffled. He's seen other children cry, as much to Suzuno's annoyance, but never from the ones his age.

The boy had hair the color of dried blood, and eyes as golden as the sun in 3 PM. Tears cascaded down on his flushed cheeks, and Suzuno vividly remembers how the caretakers attempted to calm him down, only to fail miserably. Perhaps he was crying because the orphanage was his new home now, or perhaps he was crying for a completely ridiculous reason, like most kids do.

Nagumo Haruya was kissed by fire, both in hair and personality.

And Suzuno didn't like him one bit.

&

"WHATCHA doin'?"

Suzuno sighed heavily, setting his brush down on the dewy grass. Nagumo stood beside him, and his towering figure blocked the sun's rays from illuminating Suzuno's face—to which he was grateful for—though either way he was still irritated. Not because he wasn't alone anymore, but because another person knows of his favorite place.

Suzuno had always been a lone wolf, and he spent the majority of his free time in the orphanage's large garden, on a hill facing a small lake. There was a cherry blossom tree on the hill, and he frequently stayed under it for shade every time he painted. Suzuno liked being isolated in nature. The whispers of the wind calmed him down, water streams were a wonderful melody to his ears, and the crunching sound of dead leaves give him a satisfying feeling.