Sam just stares at the photograph. It is one of the happiest moments of his life. And it all started in hellish Rwanda.
———
10 years ago
In a hidden reserve in Rwanda, the world's greatest mercenaries live. They are a band that operates far beyond laws. They do any job, as long as it pays.
However, these specific Mercenaries, The Pale Hand, are some of the most highly trained and dangerous men in the quirked world.
Many African governments tried to control them. The next day the heads of the leaders of those nations would be mounted on a spike.
The Pale Hand does have many mercenaries under its wing, but the most heinous of them all, is the child soldier division.
The Pale Hand has a secret recruiting method. They find children who are starving in many different places. The streets, abusive homes, trafficking rings, and offer them a new home, food and water. Also, they are given a chance to become stronger.
But they don't even realize they are selling their souls to the Pale Hand. Once someone joins, they cannot escape. Anyone who tries to escape, is disposed of.
On this morning, the child soldier regiment, filled with kids from many African nations and some middle eastern and European nations are gathered before their instructor.
"Attention! Today we have a new recruit."
From behind the instructor a young 8 year old boy appeared. Yet his eyes were devoid of all emotion. "Suzuki! Callsign: Canvas! Reporting for duty!" He says with a salute.
The other kids are shocked at someone so young among them. The child soldiers here have grown at least to their teens. Yet this was clearly a pre-pubescent child.
"Canvas here is 8! However, you'd do well not to underestimate him. Dismissed."
After that they all just went back to training. Suzuki also decided to go train. However before he could do it, a hand grasped his shoulder.
"So, Canvas, was it? How old are you?" A boy who looked to be French was followed by other boys. They were clearly in their mid-teens as seen with the acne and deep voice.
"8."
They all break out in laughter.
"What's a silly little brat like you doing in a hell like Rwanda. I thought that little bitch was enough but now we have to deal with you?"
He didn't know what their problem was and he didn't care because he needed to keep his body in peak shape, even in this young age.
"I don't know who this 'bitch' is, but it seems you do have to deal with me. Sorry for any… inconveniences."
"You're sorry, huh? Then get on your hands and knees and be my servant. If you know your place, I won't have to be too harsh."
The others all smirk seeing the little boy just standing there.
Just as the French boy is about to egg him on more, Suzuki finally replies.
"No. I see no reason why."
"You don't see why? I can show you why if you wish?"
Suzuki, who was just trying to keep fit, was feeling irritated.
"I'll tell you just this once, leave me alone."
The older boy attempts to slap the boy but he grabs his arm and performs a perfect Judo throw that even he couldn't see coming.
He rolled back to his feet after coughing for a bit.
"You… little shit!"
"Do you wish to continue?"
The French boy suddenly grew claws.
'Claw quirk, no poisons, short range.' Suzuki swiftly analyzed.
The French boy comes at him with his claws ready to tear him up but Suzuki runs right into his face before he can try to touch him with his claws, and gut punches the Frenchie, who begins vomiting.
Suddenly, his two cronies also activate their quirks. One of them, an Asian and one is Russian. The Asian boy has a rock hand quirk and the Russian makes his forehead harder than steel.
The Asian with the rock hands goes for a boxing swing, and Suzuki dodges. He returns it with a jab. He notices the Russian coming with a head-butt, and the boy dodges and sends the Russian boy careening into the Asian, knocking them both out cold.
The Frenchie then tries to sneak attack Suzuki, but is swiftly met with an uppercut after he spun around and rushed him. The uppercut knocked him out cold.
He is about to go back to train but seeing the 8 year old beat up boys much older, they also want a piece of it.
The boy sighs. 'This will be a long day.'
Another youth, likely 16, approaches and asks for a fight. Suzuki is already in position and always keeping an eye on his opponent. Not far from the action, another child was watching with an amused smirk.
"Show me what you got, kid."
———
It is already the afternoon and Suzuki would admit that this was a great experience as nothing is more valuable than combat experience when training.
Laid all over the ground, many boys of different ethnicities are either knocked out cold or moaning in pain on the ground.
The rest, were watching with shock as they see this young boy dismantle the other kids.
Seeing this, Suzuki drops his stance.
Just as he is about to go and rest after fighting so many boys one after another.
"Impressive, Canvas! Or was it Suzuki? Japanese?"
He looks over and sees someone with a high voice like his. 'Another child my age?'
"Half. American and Japanese."
"Oh? So if you have a Japanese last name, what's your first name?"
"…Samuel."
"…I like that. Samuel."
Suddenly a figure steps forward. A girl slightly taller than him but still young. Sam is shocked though because she is quite pretty, with yellow eyes, dark skin and white hair.
"You're not just going to stare all day are you? I know I'm pretty. But don't you want to keep fighting?"
Sam snaps out of it and gets into position.
She chuckles.
"I like your guts. You need guts in this hell. But I can tell you have an idea of what 'hell' looks like. Since you beat Pierre and his cronies and all the other boys. I think it's time we had a dance ourselves."
'French boy=Pierre, noted'
"And who are you? I introduced myself, isn't it courtesy to also share a name?"
She smirks and gets into a fighting stance.
'Perfect form, mixed martial artist, not limited to one specific style. Noted.'
"Very well, Samuel. My name…is Zola, 10 years old."