Silence. Finally. Finally it was completely still and for the first time in weeks he was able to let his mind calm down. There were annoying, little birds chirping in the trees in front of the entrance, roadmen working with their heavy gears right under them, talking and laughing people walking past the bureau building he lived in for nearly five years now. But it was silent.

Hiruma Youichi took a deep breath without anyone noticing while standing in his balcony door's frame and staring at the bright sky, his arms crossed upon his chest.

Usually everything in his brain was fed up with work; thinking about the opponents' next steps, new tactics for the battlefield called American Football Court, the best methods of using his underlings who were, at least in the eyes of outsiders, nothing more than slaves. As a matter of course, that applied to most of them although some individuals emerged to have more character than others. But nothing he could not handle. He normally thought about the most effective training methods, of how to deal with the problems raising equally to the advancement of the Deimon Devilbats, of new chances for proving their skills, not only to the opponent but to themselves, as well. His mind was captured by all these thoughts. And these were too complex, too critical, too provident and too rushing as if anyone had the chance to follow or to relieve him of some.

So he would always treasure the moments of complete silence. It didn't matter if there was noise around him; as someone who steadily shot around with bazookas, flame-throwers, Smith&Wesson's, Magnums, rifles and of course his beloved machine guns, the seventeen year old was used to (cause an) uproar. It was easier to cut out all the noise around him and shut his pointed, pierced ears to ignore the riot of daily life, daily training, daily idiots begging for mercy while he was blackmailing them with this typical evil grin on his sharp-cut face.

Intelligence – he wouldn't want to miss his subtle mind but there was no doubt that sometimes it could become just as annoying as someone not reacting the way he predicted it.

Silence. Silence meant vacantness, a blank mind.

Nothing, really nothing went through his head in this precious moment.

The blonde with the spiky styled hair closed his dark eyes.

Nothingness meant complete relaxation. And the more aggressive he behaved towards nearly every person approaching him, the more he longed for a moment of tranquilness.

So far for that topic – because in this moment one of his numerous mobile phones ringed.

At once Hiruma Youichi's eyes dashed open, his pupils almost vertical by fury and disappointment. The fury prevailed though.

A bit frustrated, the high schooler left his place on the threshold of his small balcony and gripped angrily into the sports bag all his restored phones lied. Without even spending one second to the thought if it really was the right one he gripped, he opened it and awaited the caller's voice.

'... please, don't hang up.'

Hiruma tensed up immediately and his mind was running at its usual speed, hunting his mind down with all of its mastery, desperately searching for a way to annihilate this situation as if it had never happened.
Instead of hanging up, his own voice didn't show the slightest hint of tension, neither his fury nor his feeling of being committed.

'Shut it. Have anything important to tell me, tell it now. Otherwise my time's too precious as to waste it on the phone.'

Some seconds passed by until the answer came.

'I really am proud of you, Youichi, you know', the male voice said and there seemed to resonate a kind of sadness.

'I once tried to call you a few weeks ago. But you didn't answer the phone so I assumed you were very busy and left a message...'

'Yeah, so what? Finished already?'

The blonde teenager paced up and down in his small room, every now and then looking outside the open window into the wide, clear sky. That was it. Whilst the rare silence, his mind was clear like the sky today. This was the first time he really was concious about why he was staring all the time into the vastness above his head as soon as silence laid down in his raging thoughts. Why hadn't he noticed before?

'Youichi...', the voice on the other end of the wire started again. 'Don't you think it would be easier for yourself if you just accepted my apology? I know you probably won't ever come back and that I have no right to call myself like I did when you were younger. But situation's changed by now; you changed, I did, as well, and there is no reason for you to cling to the past. Why won't you let go?'

Okay, that was enough, definitely enough. Hiruma wasn't keen on listening to anything this person was going to tell him in the next few minutes. No fucking need, no thanks and no.

'Shut the fuck up and get off my back. The one not letting go of the past is you, so mind your own business.'

The demon-like student didn't hear any response for he had already hung up and thrown the phone onto the pile poking out of the sports bag on the ground. In the next instant he had slammed his entrance door, stepped before the grey building and set off.
Still those annoying birds sang their shitty songs in every tree he passed with the wide steps of his long, slender legs and it was sufficient to just point his black rifle once into the branches, together with a deadly glare, and the small blackbirds flew away to a place safer than their actual one. Which wouldn't be difficult.

Perfect, Hiruma thought ironically whilst he had the urge to shoot something or somebody down. Ideas of how he could attain this intention in order to get over his truly bad mood came up in his mind, flashing past his inner eye; mere schemes, some of them rejected instantly, some picked out and kept safe for later purpose.

After about fifteen minutes the blonde had reached his goal: Deimon High School. Of course, he was much too late, but that didn't bother him. He didn't necessarily need to attend class to be able to pass every possible exam coming up in this or any other school. Until the phone call of his former father he had intended to stay today at a place like the rooftop of some high building in town where he would have been under perfect conditions to enjoy his own silence.

Well, so much for that. Now he had at least the chance to screw the fucking Amefuto team members. If that wasn't something worth coming to school every day - at the latest in the afternoon when their usual training started. A little smirk showed up on his attractive face.

Just when Hiruma was about to kick open the door to his classroom, he heard one of the few phones he brought to school vibrate in his jacket's pocket. He ignored it, used his special way of opening doors and grinned at his teacher who looked shocked, forced himself to a faint smile and continued with class, desperately doing his best in ignoring the cheeky but absolutely superior genius sitting at the window in the last row.

Youichi remembered that there was no silence from where he came. There had never been. It was better to make it appear on one's own than to expect it from others. Same went for trust. Especially when there was no point in relying on people who gambled away their right to be called like 'father' or 'mother' or what the hell else. Of course, he himself gambled like the world's champion but unlike many others he knew he possessed the skills to do so. The interesting thing in life was gambling and winning. There was no sense in losing, so all he had to do was winning, over and over again. So that there wouldn't be any frustrations ever again. That's how it worked.