Flash back
The day was peaceful as it was ever going to get with the occasional dogs barking or someone yelling about something. The Rukon District was instead a poor neighborhood like any other. Being poor comes with a constant sensation of not having quite enough. It feels like a roller coaster. For a little while, everything is okay. For a few breaths, the hunger is at least at bay. However, nothing like being full doesn't last forever, where everyone has been fighting or working for ways to gain resources such as food. Being poor feels hungry, and that hunger drives some people. It spurs them to do what it takes to satiate the hunger. They work harder, blindly pursuing what they (think) they need to do, never to feel that rumbling in their stomach again.
And sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't. Even when it does work, though, the echo of that hungry feeling is still there. It never seems to go away, no matter how full one person make themselves be, it sinks deep into the bones, into the very sinews of your life and never leaves you. One youngster knew what it feels like to live in poorly, for he just managed to swipe a few buns from the stand.
"OI!!!!!!!!"
The voice of an older male shouted with his fist into the air while a jet-black individual took off running with an arm full of food he stole. He stumbled a bit, mostly out of fear of being caught. This young lad carried far too much for his good, and he lost a few buns that flew out of his arms. But still have enough to last for the day, they were just lost cause and had no intention of turning back for them. Panting as he ran while rotating at a corner as the voice of the shouting man faded slowly, the further, Izanagi ran. And ran he did, barefoot and all as far as his feet could carry him.
Eventually, this eight-year-old boy has gotten to another area but not too far from where he stolen the good looking buns. He sat in this alleyway, where he placed the buns in a pile on a cloth for the time being to catch his breath before going home—counting them like they were a currency that could be used to barter with. The black-haired boy mouth drool of hunger while he couldn't help himself but storing one inside of his ragged outfit and was planning to eat a bun.....until.
Three tall shadows emerged at the entrance of the alley, where all three stood there side by side—wearing these intimidating expressions, where each one had similar fashion, poor, raggedy, and smelly.
"Well, well, well. Look at what we found? Wasn't he that kid we saw back at the market and got away with a pile of food without paying?"
"Yeah. It is the kid. Be ashamed if we ignore him without punishment."
"Unless the kid be nice enough to share some of his food with us, and maybe we could act like we didn't see him."
They all mocked the little boy and smiled mischievously like while they were nothing but older guys, wannabe thugs. They were trying to intimidate him by crunching their knuckles, applying pressure to the balled-up hand with their palms. Izanagi did not have the strength to run or fight, but each second they were gaining closer and closer, thinking Izanagi was going to hand over his earnings like that. He stared at them blankly, trying to think of a solution, something that would prevent them from doing what they intended. He grabs the pile of buns with his arms, like holding a baby, and they towered over him greatly while they look down at a defenseless kid. Izanagi stared back up at them while they were pretty big and scary looking, their faces were shrouded by darkness, with only a glint of evil in their eyes.
"C'mon Kid, hand over the food, and we will be on our way."
Izanagi diverted those purple iris back at the buns just for a moment, wondering why they chose to pick on him? Why couldn't they steal food on their own? They had the numbers to do so? It bothered Izanagi very much that some group of thugs wanted to take what he "earned." after working hard to get this food. And just like that, he quickly guided his tongue across every bun that he could lick which their reaction led them to be disgusted. But not disgusted enough to leave Izanagi alone and for his actions come consequences. One punched him dead in the forehead, which he fell backward, landing on his buttocks, which all the buns he caressed within his arms went flying in all directions.
Then it begins.
The form of punishment for not confiding to their needs, they end up beating him, stomping him, kicking him, resorted in immense punishment. Each strike was to the face, arms, legs, anything that was exposed to their view that could bring great pain. Of course, this was nothing to the abuse he already suffers, and the pain didn't bother him too much. Still, he shifts to a fetal position, arms, and hands covering as much as he could around the head area. After a long period of beating, they finally dispersed and picking up the tainted buns anyway and took off. Once they eventually left to his own expense, Izanagi was finally able to drop the act and let out a single tear from the eye. He was coughing up the red liquid from the mouth while using one arm to coil around the torso as he was slowly coming to his feet. Wincing a bit at the possible chance of hurting his ribcage, more likely bruised.
His vision was slightly blurry in one eye, and the other eye was closed shut, so staggering on out of the alleyway. Some shapes were finally bleeding into his view, a few onlookers, and one particular woman who was shook at the fact of what happened. But she covered her own child's eyes and went on inside the house, and she did not wish to involve herself. Everyone else went on about their business, and not a single soul lend a hand to help this poor boy. Izanagi wasn't surprised; this was just the simple life of the Rukongai.
Sun was finally setting as it was slowly making its way to hide behind the horizon. The young black haired rukon citizen pushed the door open to a raggedy building open. It creaked as it opens. That is when the light illuminated the interior of everything that it could touch. It also revealed two individuals were sitting at a wooden table, a man and a woman, showing their once silhouetted forms to a more visible appearance, and they didn't look too happy.
"And where the hell you been, you little punk!?"
He exclaimed the moment the boy appeared in the door.
"You had one job! ONE! Go out and steal food for the family! And look at this shit! You come back empty-handed you little piece of shit!"
His words were like everything else, barren, blank; they hardly meant anything at this point. Izanagi adapted to this sort of tone and anger. To him, this sort of behavior was typical, or at least he thought until his sister was born. Once one little girl came into this family, it seems she gets a different kind of approach. Not once did their Father abused her in any way from what Izanagi sees. And soon, his shirt was grabbed, being snatched into the house more, and this tall individual has Izanagi off the ground. Just holding him in the air by his shirt alone, and that is when he cocks one arm back.
"Here it comes."
Izanagi inner voice said.
They were ready for it, a move seen multiple times in his life. And when the hand came across his face, leaving a purple bruise mark along the cheek. He didn't wince, didn't cry out the pain that sort of toughness pissed off the old man, something Izanagi is unaware of that his lack of showing any pain or of crying out was a form of challenging his Father's affliction.
"Oh, tough guy, huh!?"
The Father wasn't having this at all, and the mother had coddle up their three-year-old daughter like she was protecting her. She was trying to block her eyes out by burying her face into her chest. But little did mother know, there was one eye that manages to peek out from the corner and still watch. Izanagi was thrown to the floor hard, which the bun he tried to keep safe for his sister dropped out. It rolled over near his sister. Takehiko sees this, and it triggers a greater evil within, face twisted even more into full-blown rage.
"SO YOU WAS TRYING TO KEEP SOMETHING FOR YOURSELF, YOU LITTLE FUCK!"
He was picking up the already wounded Izanagi by the neck, where he was thrown towards the direction where the bun laid, just a few feet away. He winced as the pain in the left rib hurt more.
"YOU WANT IT!? GO, GET IT! CRAWL LIKE THE LITTLE SHIT THAT YOU ARE!"
There was no known reason as to why this man, a father, and husband is like this way. Bringing harm to his child that he helped create. There wasn't a shred of empathy for a boy; he doesn't even call by name. He was throwing insults around at a boy that was younger than him. He was nothing but a child himself. Then a mother that done nothing to help but watched on, a child she brought into this world, and she was okay with this? What did Izanagi do to bring such pain and suffering? To him, he wouldn't know, nor could his mind comprehend that this wasn't normal behavior a child should be going through.
His one eye saw the bun in view, and he reached one arm for it, but to no avail, he wasn't able to successfully get it and was kicked in the injured rib. All the breath he held in was suddenly lost for a good ten seconds. Izanagi was gasping for air to come back to him, into his lungs. The pain was excruciating to the point he ends up rolling onto his back, holding the rib with one hand. And the Father walked away for the moment, and Izanagi mindset was to leave quickly, whatever the inner thoughts believe it was gone. Leaving never cross his mind before until now, he was slowly breaking down to nothing and mustering up all the strength Izanagi could, groaning while trying to move. It took a minute, but he manages to make it to his feet.
"Where you think you are going!?"
He shouted, and all Izanagi could think was
"Fuck. Go away already." and once turning around, he saw his Father standing a reasonable distance away wielding a knife in hand. Upon seeing that item, a weapon. Something in Izanagi's mind......
SNAPPED!
The moment his Father even gotten close, something manifested from the abdomen of Izanagi that just exploded to the outside. A burst of intangible lilac energy was released from the very pit of Izanagi's soul in all directions, causing him to kneel on both knees, screaming.
"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
His Father, Takehiko, was flying away across the house and eventually crashing into the wooden table. Mother and his sister took refuged by taking cover onto the floor. The burst of this force didn't last, but a couple of seconds caused the boy's eyes to rolled into the back of his head until the lids closed shut.
What felt like a few minutes to him was actually a week without him knowing time passed that much. Both eyes were slowly opening to the dim view before him, blurry at first, but it started to become slightly more transparent. However, darkness still shrouds the room too much for him to have a clear view of the surrounding. Always felt like a truck ram into his body and left him lying on the road
"Did I die?" something his inner thoughts would ask while he wanted to get up by a metal rattling reached his ears. Izanagi turned his head to what seems to be a metal chain and something attached to the ankle.
No surprised. Izanagi was chained up like some household monster without any clu-
"Oh right. I reme- I remember what happened."
He told himself while trying to gather his memory correctly, trying to pick the last thing he remembered: flashes but nothing concrete at this moment. The sound of a creaking door had opened, and the sound of something hard sliding across the floor.
"Brother...eat eat."
This voice was the voice of a little girl, his sister, Elyss. However, she didn't stick around to say any words, and she rushed out before being busted. Days.....weeks......months passed, and his little sister would come and visit him, feed him when she wasn't suppose too. Taking care of her big brother when he couldn't return the favor. During those days, he remained isolated in darkness, and he could hear a new name being utter from his parent's mouth at night.
"Akuma" a name fitting for a boy that became a devil in their eyes. Eventually, she would stop coming to see him, wouldn't even hear her voice through these thin walls. Did she run away? Did Father take his anger out on her and killed her? During this imprisonment, not once did his dad or mother came to see him. They were trying to let him die here, leaving him broken for another time. Psychologically crippled by the abuse and mistreatment and what's worst, it was my parents that were suppose to be the caretakers.
"Don't worry. I am here."
A voice said from out of nowhere, which caused Izanagi to immediately looked and scanned around the room though he came to see no source of this voice. Even without knowing Izanagi hair end up lavender and black.
"Hahaha! I am not somewhere; you can see me. But I see everything. I seen what they done to you."
The voice said.
"You.....see me? Who are you?"
Izanagi asked.....
"Who am I? Do you need to ask? It's me....
"AKUMA!"
Present Day
The voice of Akuma caused the eyes to shoot open while finding himself slouch over, with his back against the gate of division 11. A palm came up to one side of his face.
"When did I...."Izanagi trying to remember exactly when did he return to division 11. Last of his whereabouts were watching some members in division 13 sparring, and then he blacked out?
"Was I dreaming?"
He questioned his mind, but then an answer came.
"Like a baby! So I carried us here, back to the barracks."
The voice of Akuma returned in Izanagi's inner thoughts, where he stood up yawning and stretching with his asauchi in one hand. He didn't bother to reply back but just begin to plant his back against the wall, placing the scabbard to rest along the shoulder, diagonally. Both piercing purple eyes closed shut, only to close them as they been irritated from the brightness of the sunlight.
