WARNING: Shounen ai. Boy x boy love. Yeah, you heard me. Of course, it comes later on. I'm planning on making this a chapter story, so...
Authoress' Notes: Yup, here I am. I am proud to state that I, Hieica, have made the very fourth fanfiction on of the series Gad Guard! YAAAY! . I also want to state that mine is the first fic I've read about the sexy Katana's past, though I decided to leave the whole Sayuri thing out other than the "played with the neighbours' kids" stuff. I used the information based off of the episode with Radigue, Snow Warms Up the Soul/Snow Melts the Heart, and my crazy fangirl imagination to create this ficcie.
...yeah.
Have fun! -big grin-
Aoi
"Blood"
He came from a well-known family. A wealthy family that was known for both of his father and his mother, because both were important members to society. His father was an extremely successful and known businessman, and his mother was a beautiful, world-renowned famous actress. It was because of this he was unhappy.
Like most children that come from wealthy families, he could possess whatever material item that he desired, a toy or a pet, he could have the latest thing before it was even released to the public. He knew of all of the important people, the people that were behind every important business or operation at the time. Also, like most children that come from wealthy families, he desired the one thing that all of his parents' money pooled together could not possibly buy him.
Love.
Why was it that his parents could spare him a few bucks, but not a few minutes of their time? Was time so precious to them that they couldn't be bothered by the son that they spent so much of their precious time concieving? Was time more important than the child that was birthed from their mutual love? He wanted to know the answers to these questions and more.
Why was it that he was always home alone with a maid or a nanny? Did they deem him inimportant enough to only see him a few minutes after weeks of pretending he was non-existent?
Did they hate him that much?
Or were they just making a couple of mistakes?
Either way, he was lonely. He was starved of love and attention, he had long since grown tired of the lifeless stuffed animals that listened to him but were silent when he asked them questions. He'd long since grown tired of silent dinners at the long dining table lit by tall candles by himself, or the dinners at the neighbours' houses and seeing their perfect families, laughing, smiling, talking, spending time together. He didn't understand what all the other children had that he didn't. He wanted to know why their parents loved their children and his did not.
Around his neighbours, he felt ostracized. Even drawing on the walls with the other children, he felt different, as though he was the only child without that parental love, comfort, and security.
He watched quietly and in envy in the shadows as the mothers would bring their children to the playground and help them on the monkey bars, or push them as they sailed into the air on the swings, or catch them at the bottom of the spiral slides. He stared with those golden eyes in longing, yearning to be one of those happy, smiling children. He would do anything, give up anything to be one of those despair-free children. He would watch the joyous children and their beautiful mothers at the playground. His mother was beautiful, of course, but she didn't have that motherly air about her, she didn't contain the beauty and gracefulness of a mother's love.
At night, after all of the smiling children and their mothers went home to a warm house and were greeted with a nice, joyful dinner spent at the table together, he would perch himself onto a swing and kick off of the ground, swinging back and forth. Nobody to push him, nobody to stop the swing if he went too high and got scared. Nobody but himself and the chilly breeze of night, and the rattling of the chains on the swings as those chilly breezes blow through and at them, creating the illusion of invisible children swinging with him, back and forth, in the cold darkness of night.
When he went home, his nanny would run up to him and sweep him off of the floor.
"Where were you?" She would ask.
He wouldn't reply, no, he had stopped trying to let out his feelings a long time ago. He would just look at her with wide olive eyes. The nanny was the only one who would ever speak to him, though there relationship was a bit uncomfortable because he knew she was just getting paid for watching him and she knew that he was hurt inside and would not wish to remind him of it. She would hold him in her arms and hope that, as he got older, he would realize that she only wanted him to know that someone did care for him.
"We were so worried about you!"
Lies. All lies. He would tightly shut his eyes and wish it all to disappear, to go away.
It was rare, but sometimes, his parents would give him a tiny bit of attention as well. They would bring him along with them to parties, or on cruises, and the nanny was left to take care of the house. Whether they brought him because they regretted neglecting him, or if they just used him for their image, he would never know, but that was the only time that he would be able to be loved. Even if it was fake, in front of the camera, he would still treasure it.
It was one of those parties on a cruise ship that would change his life.
He was sitting on a chair at one of those tables, peering over the edge of the ship, allowing himself to stare deeply as the waves crashed into the side of the ship. He wondered what would happen if he fell overboard. Would anybody even notice him, flailing around in the water, struggling for air?
All around him people were talking and laughing and having a good time, so why did he still feel so alone?
"Hey, isn't he that actress's son?"
He turned his head towards the direction that the voice came from. There was a group of beautiful women, faces he recognised from bill boards or ones that he's seen on the television screen.
"I think so, he looks a lot like her," one said, stepping a bit closer to him and looking at his facial features.
"That kid should be glad he got his mother's looks," said another.
He looked up at them, wondering when they would go away. Whenever someone noticed him, he was always "that actress' son" or "the kid of the business guy". Maybe if he just ignored the women, they would stop talking and leave him alone. He looked down at the hard wood floor.
"How old did she say he was?"
"She didn't say, but he look's about ten or eleven years old..."
"Why does he stare at the ground like that?"
"I bet he thinks he's too good to look at us."
"Of course he does, his mom's that 'world famous actress', remember? Why should he look at us, these lowly models?" One said with extreme distaste in her voice.
He closed his eyes and balled his fists. Make them go away, please...! he thought desperately.
Thunder echoed in the distance. He felt a slight pinch of rain on the back of his head, and he looked up and to the side. The sky was dark, and flashes of lightning sparked, slowly nearing the ship. The rain grew heavier. The models' hands flew to their perfect hair as they ran inside for protection against the rain. They wouldn't want to ruin their precious hair and have it get frizzy.
Soon, he was the only one standign on the deck, getting the full blast of rain. He turned to go inside, when a wave crashed onto the side of the ship. The force knocked him over ontop his hands and knees, and he looked to the side. His eyes widened and he latched onto a nearby pole, one that was helping the balcony part of the ship to stand.
The cruise ship crashed into a dark boulder sticking up out of the water. He lost his grip and rolled, smacking into the wall. He heard the screams of the other passengers inside and many plowed their ways out onto the deck. His father ran to the side and peered over the edge at the massive hole in the side of the ship. Lightning struck the deck near his father's feet, and the man jumped back. Where he was standing one short moment ago, there was now a fire. The rain pelted into it, but the winds caused it to roar and spread across the rest of the deck.
The ship shook, and the young boy heard a crack. He watched as a piece of the deck, and sharp wooden floor board came flying at him. It connected with the left side of his face with a sickening thud. He fell and reached to his cheek, pulling his hand away as pain shot through his mind. He saw the blood on his hand and it flew to his cheek once again.
He called over the roaring flames. "Otousan!" There was nothing but the flames and the smoke. Inhaling the poisonous air, he choked out. "Okaasan!"
He felt arms pulling him up off of the deck and he looked up, through the blood that was clouding his vision, to see his father holding him in one arm and pulling his mother along with the other. Together they ran through the ball room to the other side of the ship. There was a life boat with room enough for the three of them, and the father pushed through the crowd, helping his mother onto the boat and putting him in his mother's arms.
The ship shook violently, and the life boat was torn from the ship. He and his mother in horror watched as they floated away from the sinking ship and his father. There was no time for remorse or even a sense of relief that they were away from the burning ship, because a huge wave towered over the small life boat. His mother held him close before the wave swept over them, pulling them down under the water. The salt water stung his cheek and his lungs were filling with water. He opened his eyes and saw his mother smiling at him, even through the water. Other people were grabbing onto her ankle in an attempt to push her down and propel themselves up.
And she let him go.
Hieica: Umm... how was it? I'm trying here. I'm not sure how this will stand. Did you like it? Did it suck? Should I have made his parents completely cruel bastards?
Originally, his parents were going to pay attention to him and stuff and he would have had the perfect life and stuff, but then I thought of his character now, and one cruise ship wreck wouldn't make him THAT cold, would it? I really don't know. Also, I refrained from using the name "Katana", because I'm not sure if it's his real name, but I doubt it is because there is no last name accompanying Katana. So, yeah.
I wrote this because there's so little Gad Guard stuff out there, and I love Gad Guard, so this is what was born from that. I also own the very first English shrine to Katana, with the same name as this fic, at think Aoi is the perfect word to describe Katana, so that's why this fic is called that and the shrine. Yeah.
Reviews are most welcome! Constructive criticism, compliments, rabid fangirl-osity, flames. They're all welcome so at least I know that people actually read this.