An exhausted sigh escaped the boy as he slouched over an old bench in the middle of a dog park.

The moment he did, the air shifted. Voices dropped to a whisper and footsteps hurried past him.

In particular, a woman playing with her pet dog stole a glance his way, her fingers tightening around her frisbee. When he fixed his eyes on her, she recoiled back, quickly turning her gaze back to the frisbee.

“A demon.”

It didn’t matter how many times he heard the word, the sting never fully subsided. But it wasn’t the harsh insult itself that stung him most. It was the feeling of utter isolation that it carried, not to mention their eyes. Always those same cold and unforgiving glares.

“Here we go again…” He muttered to himself.

Akuma, a teenage boy, couldn’t help but think his presence was a bother to the people around him. Perhaps it was his unnatural crimson eyes that seemed to pierce through your soul. Or maybe it was the fact that he would sometimes talk to himself, even arguing here and there.

Those might’ve had a part to play, but he knew what the cause was. How could he not? When he’s a murderer.

After another exhausted sigh, Akuma curled further in his bench. With his neck slouched over the bench’s backrest, he gazed at the clouds above.

Though his eyes were lasered at the clouds, he was really hoping he’d find heaven. Specifically, the part of heaven where dead spirits go. Such was his favorite past time on the days he skipped class. A day such as this one.

Instead, he was met with the devilish grin of a child angel. One with no comprehension of the term “personal space”. His wings flapped as he hovered above Akuma’s face, though by now, he was used to it.

“Should I go back to class? Nah, there’s no point.”

Now don’t misunderstand. Just because he’s skipping class doesn’t mean he should be lumped in with petty delinquents. Believe it or not, he’s the number one in his grade when it comes to academics. He would be number one in athletics too, but he’s skipped too much P.E for that.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“I wonder if we had homework… I hope not. I really don’t want my grades to go down. Being number one has its perks.”

For a moment, Akuma could’ve sworn he heard the feint meow of a cat. The sudden shift in his posture and gaze spooked any pedestrian who happened to have looked his way at that moment. Their footsteps almost doubling in speed as they pretended to be busy on their phones.

“For crying out loud, you could at least pretend like me.”

That was the final straw. Akuma had gotten tired of his clearly unwanted company and decided to make everyone else’s days a bit easier. And so, he left, going wherever the wind felt like taking him.

It was then that he spotted a black cat hopping over a brick fence at the corner of his eyes. He wasn’t big on cats or anything, but he found himself wondering if that was the same cat he heard earlier on that bench. It could’ve been. Or maybe it wasn’t. It’s not like cats were a rare sight or anything.

“Y’know… I’m getting kinda hungry.”

A few minutes later he stopped by a nearby vending machine and suddenly had the urge for some donuts. Unfortunately, the button didn’t seem to work, or perhaps it was the machine itself that was broken.

The answer was neither of those. It was actually the haunting apparition that purposefully jammed the donuts in between the channels. His mischievous grin gave it away.

“Now is really not the time for this.”

He tried everything -kicking, punching, hell even headbutting. But the damn thing just refused to budge. Finally, after much more pounding, the pack of three donuts fell, returning Akuma’s warm expression.

Naturally, the people around him were convinced he’d just stole those from the machine but the last thing they were gonna do was risk death. I mean these people had families to return to, lives to live for.

While strolling down the city’s street, Akuma’s eyes were glued to a businessman hurrying past a homeless man, his phone pressed to ear and gaze carefully averted.

The apparition floating nearby smiled at the sight. Honestly it seemed more like a grimace than a smile.

“You saw that too, huh?” Akuma muttered to his unwanted companion. “Everyone thinks they're being neutral by just minding their business. But sometimes doing nothing is just as bad as doing something. Then again, it’s not like I’m helping him either.”

If you were to ask Akuma if heroes existed, he’d probably look you in your eyes, laugh and turn the other way.

But if you caught him on a good day then you’d maybe get, “If you mean heroes from fantasy novels then no. In real life, when someone helps you, it’s because they want something. Which mean anyone that claims to be a hero… is just an opportunist.”

Maybe it’s that belief that brought him to his current predicament.

To his left, a deafening honking as well as bright lights that obscured his vision of the fist of pure steel -a truck as some would call it. He was airborne with no way to move as he’d hurled himself in the middle of the street to save a black cat from being run over.

As he stared at the truck speeding toward him, flashes of distant memories danced in his mind. His training. The first time he ate donuts. And then, more important memories… moments with a girl at school.

The thought of never seeing her again brought a single, panicked thought to his mind.

“Shit.”