Scar

Burn

(based off the fire flashback scene in episode 58)

Disclaimer: Of course I don't own YGO Zexal, otherwise, IV would be an anti-hero protagonist along with Rio as the heroine, and the anime would be full of dramas instead of card games! I own the drawing in the top, though... :p

***

Everything was on fire.

Everywhere he looked, there were only flames, licking everything it touched, engulfing it in its scorching embrace. Debris' of the ruined building were also on fire, scattered all over his path. Even his red-and-blond tresses blended in rather nicely with the flaming background.

IV limped, not because of bad leg, but because of her weight started to burden his steps. The smell of smoke filling his nostrils didn't really help matter either. If he stayed there any longer, he'd have died of lung poisoning. But then, he didn't even know where he was; let alone looking for a way out. He could only see fire, as far as his eyes could see.

The girl, Rio, had fallen unconscious after a piece of debris hit her head—or so IV thought, since said girl was now leaning limply by his side, one arm draped over his shoulder. The blunette was drenched in sweat, face contorted in pain; he didn't have time to check for any injury, but that was the least of his worry.

Every step he took felt like dragging a steel ball, his breathing labored, and the time seemed to slow, as if the fire dulled every momentum around him. He was sick of fire and he wanted—no, had—to get out of this inferno as fast as possible.

Once he was out, the first thing he would do was to confront Tron. That brat had a lot explaining to do, especially about that card. If he could get out of here, of course.

IV cursed that card, the card that had materialized real fire and starting this disaster. He cursed Tron, who had given him that card. The kid knew he could never win against her with his own deck. He never felt so humiliated in his sixteen years of life.

That bastard...damn, go to hell!

He repeated it inside his head like a chant, hoping that if he did it enough, it would actually happen. Of course he knew that was a long shot, but he needed something direct his anger.

Hatred and anger were two things that he understood the most. Determination to bring back his father, along with hatred towards whatever had caused his father trapped in that revenge-seeking child known as Tron were two things that drove him to do more than anyone else. His little brother, III, was too gentle to do this kind of dirty work, while his older brother, V, was too busy going over their plans and making sure Tron stay entertained. So, it was all on him now.

That feeling alone was probably the only reason he kept walking in his half-conscious state while dragging the girl's limp form along. In another normal circumstance, he would have passed out already. But 'normal' was erased from his dictionary after his father's disappearance years ago. Ever since that fateful day, all he could remember were unhappy memories.

Chris was lucky that he had been old enough when it all happened, so he hadn't had to be put into foster care and could continue his research to find out what had happened to their father. But Thomas and Michael hadn't been as lucky.

Almost the entire orphanage had jeered at them since they had come from a high-class background and therefore unaccustomed to the simple way of living there. Of course, Michael, being a kindred soul he was, didn't really mind to be made fun of as long as he could make friends. But, Thomas, suddenly been delegated as the older of the two, couldn't see it the way his brother could.