Author's Note:

Hey guys! Here's my first Friday update!

Just wanted to thank you all my dear readers for all the good words in the comments and the reviews. Especially huge thanks goes to PRESSit for one really amazing review. I still can't believe some people keep my story in such high regard.

Anyway, hope you enjoy this short chapter/prologue thing about Ace in his home environment and hope to see you all next week.

DarkSun

P.S. I'm thinking of uploading some excerpts from stories I may plan to write some time in my life so if it gets approved by the moderators and you have time, it would be nice if you checked it out! Off now!

P.S.S

Sorry for the long author's note which will become longer than the chapter if I'll waste any more time thinking over everything I want to say >.

***

Kirin watched and snow fell while sitting on a windowsill in his room.. He had managed to crawl on it from his table and felt very proud of himself. From his position at the window of the second floor, he could see the street below and those who rushed through in a hurry.

This position always amazed Kirin. It was just so strange to sit here, higher than anyone else, and watch them as if they were nothing more than ghosts passing through; grey and featureless. He felt like a god and he often liked to pretend that he could control those people going past him. He’d give them backstories and imagine where they were rushing so.

A woman in a black jacket went by with her head low. She had bright yellow scarf wrapped tightly around her neck and a large package in her hands. She clutched it tightly to herself as if it held something invaluable, and maybe it did. A Christmas present for her daughters maybe? Kirin could almost see the happy faces of the girls as they woke up to find something under the big shining tree.

Another person went past. It was an old man, his face almost reaching the ground; his back was twisted this much. Kirin knew him as Harry but wasn’t sure whether the guy had any family or not. Could he be spending the holidays alone? Or did he have someone to visit him? To play Santa for?

The old man raised his head and slowly waved towards the boy as if seeing him. Kirin knew it couldn’t be possible through the thick curtain of snow but he waved back anyway. Harry was an interesting guy, always ready to tell a tale or whisper some secret kids had no right knowing.

For example, he was the reason Kirin knew why Santa Claus always came to other kids.

He extended his hand to touch the window. It was cold under his fingers and the kid smiled. He put his whole face to it, enjoying the feeling of freezing coldness. From his eyes so close to the see through surface he watched as the snowflakes danced in the air.

They reminded him of those people in old movies with castles and such. When strange music started to play, they would take up circles, unusual formations and start moving in a rhythm. He could hardly call it dancing but his parents said it was so. Snowflakes were like that too. They moved and twirled in a fixed manner known only to them.

He noticed a dog running past. It was huge with flapping white ears and a tongue to its knees. Kirin grimaced at it. The owner of the dog was Veronica and he despised her from the bottom of his being.

She tried to always include him in what the other kids were playing, not caring he wanted that or not. He would have to smile then and play those stupid games or people would start to think there was something wrong with him. Depression was their favourite word and he hated when they were jumping around him, trying to cure a disease he didn’t have.

He’d rather play those stupid games of hers.

And she never got it if he refused nicely. She would always say there was nothing for him to be embarrassed about, they all knew him and admired his character’s strength. Kirin knew it was a lie as it was a word parents first started to use and only then children caught up without even knowing what it really meant.

Even now, years after the incident, people often remembered to mention it. Did they really think he was that strong for being able to smile and laugh after all that had happened to him? His disease, teacher’s suicide, absent parents and non-existent relatives? Didn’t everyone have bad things happen to them and lived through it?

He couldn’t understand why was he so revered.

Worst of all children loved to copy-cat their parents and all of it resulted in more annoyances for Kirin; more games to be played, more fake smiles to be put on.

The dog made a circle of the block and was back again. Kirin glared at it. What was he walking around here for? His home was ten houses down the street with that crazy girl where she was opening wrapped up boxes and eating chocolate.

Kirin hit the glass with his forehead to get the image out of his head and moved it where the glass wasn’t even the slightest warmed up by his skin. He breathed in that coldness, relaxing somewhat. There was at least one good thing that had come from visiting all those doctors who said they were no doctors and just wanted to know more about you.

Two people wrapped in their thin jackets turned into the street. They were holding hands and smiling brightly as if not feeling a chilling wind passing straight to their bones. One of them, the female, had a hand in her pocket and kept glancing at it every other moment as if checking if something was still there.

Kirin watched them walk down the street and stop before his house. The male took the key out and unlocked the door. They walked in, leaving the kid’s sight.

Kirin took a couple more deep breaths before scrambling down from his vantage point. He looked over his messy room, scrunched his nose and went to his mirror. The room was dark but from the window there was enough silvery light for him to see the contours of his face. He tried on a few smiles before deciding on one with slightly curved sides; he called it a wistful one, and with it on his face went under the covers of his small bed.

Not long after that a knock sounded on his door. He grumbled as if disturbed but didn’t open his eyes. He listened for what they will do.

The doors opened and soft footsteps entered his room. He felt a hand brush the hair off his eyes. It was his father’s hand. Mother was standing a few steps away most likely.

“Should we wake him?” father asked in a barely audible voice in which slight disappointment could be heard.

“Sorry, Robert, but just look at him” his mother said with a light laugh. “Could you really wake him up when he looks so innocent and sweet?”

“No, but you know he hates being called an Angel.”

His mother sighted tiredly, the long day of work returning to her with vengeance of having been dismissed for a while. “Yeah, but he’s not going to escape that label. He’s just too cheerful, nice and friendly.”

“Sometimes I wonder if he really is” his father said cryptically, standing up. “Let’s go. We can give it to him tomorrow” he whispered in a defeated tone.

Floor creaked slightly as he moved and Kirin stirred. He shifted in his bed with his eyes half open, almost unseeing. His parents froze in their spots hoping he’ll settle back into his sleep. Kirin didn’t do that but instead grumbled and mumbled, faking a person who was just woken up. In time he opened his eyes fully and smiled widely upon noticing his parents.

The moonlight did nothing to hide their sunken eyes and hollow cheekbones, if anything it made them more pronounced. Anger rose in his stomach for he knew who was at fault for it. And he could do nothing to change it, more than to jump off of one of the cliffs surrounding their village. He forced the feeling down and rushed at them, falling over the sheets in his rush.

Father caught him with a laugh. “Where are you in such a hurry to?”

“You said you might meet Santa on the streets! Did you? Did you?” he asked, looking up at his father’s smiling face. “You did, didn’t you?” His father only smiled brighter.

Kirin jumped on his feet and turned to his mother who was standing suspiciously silent with a face wide grin. “You have it!” he shouted at her accusingly and rushed with all the speed his small frozen legs could muster. His mother danced out of his way, holding the package he’d seen before over his head.

The boy tried jumping up to reach it but it didn’t work, his mother would move it even higher if he got anywhere near reaching it. So then to his father’s delight he tried to jump from the bed and even his desk, but sadly to no avail. When nothing helped he looked at his mother with a silent pleading look. “Please..?” he whisper-asked her softly.

His father laughed out aloud this time. “Julie, you’re done for. Admit defeat and save your pride.”

His mother was more resistant than that but Kirin knew he almost had her. “Mother... Please..” he whispered, looking up with an expression of innocence and bright shining eyes. The look on his mother’s face was priceless as she struggled. She tried to keep a stern expression, failed miserably and burst out laughing in the end.

“Told ya” his father said, snatching the box from her hands. She huffed indignantly to which Kirin chuckled and grabbed the box from his father before he thought of a challenge himself. They loved doing that to make the atmosphere lighter and put everyone in a happy mood.

Kirin turned away from both of them and quickly opened the box. At first he couldn’t understand what it was but when he took it out, the shape finally made sense. It was something he’d seen in one of the shops and wondered what it tasted like. One of the aunts had suggested to buy it for him but he had thoroughly refused and had hoped it was the end of it. Seems like the word has been passed to his parents.

His eyes clouded with unshed emotions but his face shifted into one representing delightedness as he squealed in happiness. “Chocolate Pizza!”

The thing was sliced into six parts with each having a coating of something white to represent snow and then each filled with different things. One slice had purple, red and orange bubbles, another some sticky looking light brownish stuff and so on.

He turned to his parents holding his prize high up to make sure they could see what he had. “Look what I got! It’s a chocolate pizza! Like the one I’d seen with the aunt!” his face became grim as he turned from one of his parents to the other. Their expressions became instantly worried. “Don’t you like it? Is something wrong?” they asked as Kirin shook his head. “Did you thank the Santa?”

His mother laughed to which Kirin threw her a despairing, almost crying look. “But if you didn’t he might not bring something as amazing next year!” He shouted out, pushing his mother angrily with one hand. The other held the present tightly grasped.

His mother caught his arm and lowered herself to his eye level. “You have nothing to worry about, okay?” she waited to make sure she had his attention. “Me and your dad, we both thanked him with all our hearts. He’s coming back next year for sure. Maybe you’ll even meet him yourself!” she said, taking him up in his arms and raising him above.

Kirin smiled and laughed as she spun him around with the chocolate clutched tightly in his hands. When she finally let him down, Kirin rushed to his bed and opened the packaging of the thing and took two pieces out. He brought one for each parent. They tried to refuse it, saying it was his but he didn’t hear a word of it so together they ate the sweets and enjoyed a conversation about absolutely nothing.

Time went by swiftly and soon Kirin noticed his parents only acting cheerfully, no longer having the energy to actually feel that way. So he yawned a couple of times and quickly they told him to go to sleep. He refused for a bit for the eyes but soon allowed himself to be carried to the bed and be tightly wrapped in the blankets. They kissed him goodnight and left. In moments the house was as quiet as before their arrival.

Kirin waited a bit before deciding they were asleep and crawling out. He went to his window and looked around since the snow had stopped falling. Christmas trees shone through many windows, people sat at large tables and kids ran around, holding wrap paper and smiling from ear to ear.

The boy took notice of it all before turning back to his room. It was dark and lonesome, dismal. He shook his head and returned his eyes to the dancing lights outside and watched them till morning came and people started to move in his house.