This flashback takes place several years prior.
((
The young boy stared at the deluge of wanted that snaked along in front of him, staring aimlessly as he refused to accept that what had happened to him days before was a part of his reality.
He leaned forward, and his gaze from his pupils lowered. His dium-length, brown hair blew in the cold wind and his frail body began to shiver from the sudden change in temperature.
Winter was approaching, but the kid who wore tattered clothes and now sat under an isolated bridge was not necessarily happy about it.
If this was a dream, he wished that it would be over soon.
No, it definitely is a dream.
There was no way those people that he shared great mories with vanished just like that.
There was no way that the people close to him were ripped apart from his life so easily.
--There was no way that ****** ****** was now all alone by himself, with no one by his side.
It’s not real. It’s not real, It’s not real, It’s not real, It’s not real.
He was just lost. Yes, that was all.
He was lost and needed to return to his loved ones.
***
Nearly two days after the incident, he had remained under the bridge that towered over the river underneath.
With no food available and barely any potable water around him, the pangs within his stomach grew as a new day dawned.
Everything changed for the better, though, when that man decided to make a stop by the river to fish.
The boy would never forget that mont. How could he, when this man had saved him that day?
"Kid, where are your parents?"
"...Huh?"
He blinked, almost flabbergasted that the man several feet away who sat by the edge of the pavent had looked in his direction, even more so decided to talk to him.
"No kid should be alone at a place like this," the man continued. "Go ho."
The boy wished that it were that simple, though. In a sense, there was no ho to return to.
Noticing that no reply ca, the man shifted his attention to the water in front of him, and got to work, catching a couple of fish with his fishing rod after waiting for a few minutes.
The sight at potential food almost drove the boy insane, and his longing for a taste of sothing that could fill his stomach plagued his mind, making him silently sob as-
"Hey."
"Eh?"
He raised his head, with tears streaming down his face as the growling in his stomach continued.
There was the man who towered over his crouching body with brown hair, a piercing gaze and a heavy tone in his voice as he spoke.
"By chance...are you...holess?"
Silence.
The black-haired boy averted his eyes to the fish that lay trapped in the small net that he held with his right hand, and following his desperate gaze, the man sighed.
"I’ll take that as a yes, and also that you must be hungry. Thankfully, I have my portable burner for cooking in my backpack."
He narrowed his eyes and quickly unloaded the burden of his backpack from his shoulders before taking out the burner and a water bottle. Then, he pulled out a knife from his pocket and opened the net.
"Just give a few minutes to clean the fish, okay kid?"
Silence again, but he could see that the boy nodded slightly.
Not much of a talker...still, a kid this age being holess is...
Guilt clouded his empathetic heart as he hastily tried to get the boy food and water to indulge in, and after nearly fifteen minutes, everything was pretty much complete.
The lightly salted cooked fish was now perfectly cooked.
They both began to eat their fill silently, and after taking a peek of the kid quickly hoarding the fish into his mouth with glee, the man smiled with pride.
"My na’s Matsuo Yamamoto."
Matsuo introduced himself, and placed his hand on his chest with a kind gesture as he continued, "What’s your na?"
"I...can’t rember."
No...I don’t want to rember.
"...Huh?"
"I can’t rember."
The sudden faint response threw him off guard, and the boy repeated himself without hesitation.
He doesn’t know his own na? he questioned internally.
After pondering for a few seconds, Matsuo decided to try to push for answers.
"What happened to you? Where are your parents?"
"-hk."
The child paused, and as he stared into the distance while trying to reminisce about past events, a chilling, fearful expression ford on his face, and his eyes watered."
"W-Woah, kid..."
Before Matsuo could calm him down, the boy ran into his arms and broke down into tears, clinging onto him as if his life depended on it.
"Please...d-don’t leave ....here..."
".....Kid..."
"Please..."
Matsuo furrowed his eyebrows, deeply disturbed.
And from that day on, he stuck to the decision that he had made on that fateful day.
"Okay...alright. I’ll try to take care of you for now, kid."
--That was the day in which Matsuo Yamamoto, the Chief of the Shinigami Soldiers, had taken in the kid who was later nad as Liohi Kitagami.
))
***
Liohi could not rest at a ti like this. As he continued to sweat profusely while doing pushups on the living room floor, that mory of where he believed his childhood truly began kept him going.
He had pledged absolute loyalty to the man who took him in, fed him, clothed him, trained him to be skilled at his job, and helped him to earn money for a living until he eventually began to live on his own.
Matsuo Yamamoto was like a father to him. And now with possibly the biggest mont of his life inching closer and closer, he had to ensure that he was physically ready to successfully complete the mission.
With the preparation eting that would be held amongst the rest of his workmates coming soon, he looked forward to the details of the mission and the specific instructions that he would undergo, but for now...
"I’ll finish that mission, get my huge reward, have a talk with Chief about my job, and possibly..."
His voice trailed off as he tried to motivate himself, but he knew what he wanted to say at that mont.
...And possibly find out more about my parents’ death in that location.
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