• “Major Stain….Major Stain…MAJOR.”
    The Major was broken from his little reverie suddenly and he turned in his seat a pen still balanced precariously on his lip. He removed the pen gazing at one of his subordinates, “I’m sorry could you repeat that once more.”
    The man cleared his throat already quite used to the Major’s odd tendencies and habits, such as selective hearing. “I said that Districts A through E have been cleared out already.”
    “Wow, that fast”, he ran a hand through his flaming orange hair, “good work, any casualties?”
    He straightened his collar at the compliment, “No sir, they put up almost no fight at all, we lost none.”
    “Oh good”, the Major smiled widely, “well, I’ll have the Brigadier take over this area then, we should probably provide backup to the soldiers in the dead zone.”
    He stood up perfectly straight and saluted him, “Understood I’ll contact the Brigadier immediately and begin preparations for the departure.”
    With that the man left and the Major was left to himself again. He leaned back in his seat with an uncharacteristic groan, “Aww, I was daydreaming again.”
    He pursued his lips, swinging around in his chair back to his desk gazing at the large battle plan sheet placed in front of him. There were many lines drawn on it pointing out positions of soldiers, civilians, and enemies. He picked up his pen again balancing it on his upper lip as he leaned back in his chair throwing his feet carelessly on the table. He gazed up at the ceiling of the metallic building, “How long’s it been since that day”, he mumbled to himself shutting his eyes.
    As he began to drift into sleep the dream he’d been seeing earlier flashed back into his mind. A young boy, maybe 10 or 12 stood in a large training room, a harsh boy about his same age stood in front of him clutching his bleeding arm tightly a scowl on his face. The first boy had flaming orange hair, was extremely thin, and had a large grin on his face as he held a small pistol in his hand, which he tossed back and forth. The other boy had black hair that was cut short and tight, but still managed to go every which way on his head, and was built a tad bigger than the first. The black haired boy clenched his teeth tightly as he bent down to pick up his dropped gun. “C’mon Toru”, the orange haired boy called with a grin; “I thought you said you could finish this in 15 seconds, I’m still here waiting for you.”
    The boy growled, “Shut up Stain”, as he clutched his gun in his uninjured arm, angry both that he had lost to the younger boy and the ridiculous nickname he had came up for him.
    Stain twisted the gun around in his hand expertly as Toru stood up straight wincing as his arm bled freely. A voice came on over the speaker distorted slightly by the microphone, “I think you should end the training for today, you are injured Jotaru.”
    “Shut up I can continue”, the boy said hotly glaring up at a window at the top of the room where a group of men stood watching the boys.
    “….Very well”, the voice said after a few moments, “Commence the training session.”
    The moment he said that the room changed back to what it had been before, a room of steel deathtraps and weapons, all with the intent to kill both boys. Stain smiled widely, “Don’t hold me back Toru, or I’ll have to kill you.”
    The boy smirked holding up his gun, “You say it like you actually could Stain.”
    The scene suddenly changed again in his mind this time Stain was even younger about 6 or so as he stood grinning widely at a surprised black haired boy about the same age, with hair that looked like he’d tried to cut it himself using a pair of safety scissors. Stain’s grin looked very silly, because he had lost most of his front teeth, all at the same time, which gave him the appearance of a small hockey player. “You…you’re joking right”, the black haired boy said looking up to the old man he called his mentor.
    “No, you two will be training together from now on”, the old man said seriously.
    Stain rubbed his nose and held out his hand, that ridiculous grin still plastered on his face, “The name’s Stain”, he said cheerily.
    The boy looked at him like he must be joking, “Stain, like a stain on a carpet?”
    His mentor smacked him over the head, “Jotaru, do not be rude.”
    The boy scratched his sore head, “Ow, what the ******** was that for, all I said was his name’s weird.”
    “Watch your language boy”, the man said icily, and Jotaru didn’t comment back, but grumbled angrily with a glower on his face.
    Stain giggled scratching his head, “You’re funny, Toru.”
    Jotaru looked at him oddly with a grimace, “Toru…you mean me?”
    “Yep”, he put an arm around the other boy flashing him a thumbs up, “It’s your new nickname now that we’re partners.”
    Jotaru’s eye twitched and so did his lip, “Don’t touch me, and don’t call me Toru you damn genetic mistake.”
    “Jotaru”, his mentor warned as he gazed at the boy with a steady glare.
    “It’s okay”, Stain said waving it off as Jotaru threw his arm off of him like he had some kind of disease, “I think he’s funny.”
    “How’s it funny”, the boy said angrily not liking this boy one bit.
    He smiled happily, “I might have been created artificially, but your mother was a whore”, he said, the smile he gave not quite reaching his eyes.
    “Major Stain, it’s time to go.”
    The Major woke up with a yawn stretching, “Having that dream, now I wanna go bug the Brigadier.”
    “Excuse me sir”, the man asked confused.
    “It’s nothing”, the Major said standing, “I was just talking to myself.”