My Dark Daffodil

Chapter One

~1811~
Reo sat on the edge of the road, far away from all the bullies and bigots that scrutinize his existence. You would think he would able to deal with it, but it really does effect him.

His brain, became the loudness it is.

He was only really 18, but here he was, moping about. He doesn't know why he looks the way he is, and is surprised he hasnt been executed yet just for being different. His hair is blue toned, its very dark almost black but it's still blue. He doesn't know where he got it from, and has no clue who his parents are. He grew up in an orphanage.
His thoughts swirled, a mixture of stress and anxiety from the bullies, and one other problem.His guardians were sending him out to the military. Would be an honor, if they weren't doing it out of punishment.He hates this country. Which is fair, its full of misogynistic bigots. He always knew people were being treated unfairly, especially the colored skins. How would they be of Satan, if they worship god themselves too? He questions the very morals of humanity often.He readjusted his sleeves, playing with the button. He had decided, with all that he muster of his courage, that he was fine with going to the military.He would face it head on, face death in the face and tell him "Do your worst".

~1812~
He struggled, hiding behind a rock as shots flew past him. Who would've thought, they made him go into the violent area. He wanted to prove the others, the world, wrong. That he wasn't a weird blueberry-headed kid. Why do they call him that anyway, blueberries are purple? He shifted a bit only to feel a sharp pain in his shoulder. Oh, that fucking shoulder. Always sticking out when the time was right.
Fuck. This hurts. A lot. He hurriedly shifted back, yelling out in pain. Kind of a late reaction, but it took him a second to process it. He still hadn't processed fully that he'd been shot, until a person showed up next to him, moving him and immediately tending to the wound. He groaned, trying to look at who it was. Why were they helping him? If anything, he deserved this. They were pressing a rag to the wound, being careful but it still hurting like hell. He managed to get a good look at them, and still had no idea who they were. They were an American soldier though. Older. He struggled to compose himself somewhat, because he was practically crying from the pain.
"F-Fuck- Hell...who...who are you?" He managed to struggle out.
They looked up and looked him in the eyes, seemingly looking for something in them, before responding with,
"You don't need to know that bud, but do please quiet down a bit, I don't want them to know we're still 'ere and very much Alive."
"Why are you helping me? You don't even know who I am."
"Human decency, kid. You don't deserve to be out 'ere this young."
Reo started to protest but suddenly there was a hand over his mouth, "Quiet."

There was a clinking noise, Like something was thrown nearby. Their heads turned to look at whatever was thrown.

Fuck.
It was a grenade.

This is it, this is him about to face death. He was excited for this originally, but now he's scared. More for the other person who started helping him. He wanted to thank him. He didn't deserve the kindness.
"Thank you for caring."
The man's voice wavered, "You're special, kid."
And then he moved in front of Reo, blocking and hoping to prevent damage.
"Sir, what do y-"

White light. Ringing.

Pain.