He ran.

  "Shit! Shit! SHIT!" a young voice yelled as he ran through the dark streets, gasping for breath.

  This should not have happened.

  "GET BACK HERE, DEMON!" the boy heard from the mob chasing him.

  He knew better. The Kyuubi Festival was held every year! On his birthday!

  “LEAVE ME ALONE!” the boy yelled.

  He just had to stay home. It should have been easy!

  Sparing a glance behind him, the blond-haired, blue-eyed boy with whisker marks on his cheeks saw the large group of civilians and several Shinobi with a look of pure murder in their eyes.

  But he didn’t have any food. He thought he had enough packs of ramen, but… he’d miscalculated. He’d had supposed to get more the day before yesterday, but… he’d forgotten. He could have had milk, but it had become chunky. The last time he had drank that, it gave him such an upset tummy! He’d learned his lesson.

  Why!?

  He thought maybe, this year it would be ok.

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

  Every year they would do this.

  Why did they keep doing this!?

  He just needed to be careful.

  Every year they would chase him.

  Why did they always chase him!?

  He was good at sneaking. He thought he could just sneak out and go get some food before the crowd build up.

  All the time they would hurt him.

  Why did they always hurt him!?

  He’d tried his best. He knew he shouldn’t have left his apartment, but he was just so hungry!

  They were always so angry.

  Why were they always so angry!?

  His best wasn’t good enough.

  Why!?

  Relying on his years of honed speed and agility, the boy ducked through alleyways and around corners, dodging around festival goers and revelers. However, luck would not be on his side this time.

  "Oh no!" the boys cried out fearfully as he came face to face with a dead end.

  "Heh, heh, now where to run now, demon" the boy heard before quickly turning around and pressing his back to the wall, his eyes wide with fear.

  Why!?

  "Please! Just leave me alone! I've never done anything to you!" the boy pleaded.

  "LIAR!" one of the men yelled.

  "Your mere existence is a constant reminder of the sins you've committed" a woman said.

  “What sins!? I don’t know what you’re talking about! I never did anything!” the boy cried.

  "And we’ll make sure you never will" one of the shinobi said while drawing a kunai.

  Why!?

  The boy panted in terror as the mob closed in on him, his arms coming up to cover his face and head while he tried to curl into as small a ball as possible. Hoping beyond hope that, maybe, just this once, they would leave him be.

  The boy's screams rang into the night, but it would be some time before anyone would pay enough heed to it.

  It wasn’t until long after the mob had dispersed that he would be found, bloodied, broken and limp, but still alive.