HERO

"And who do you think you are!?" the large, brawny boy hollered at the pair standing before him, particularly to a boy who was less than half of what he would probably weigh, and a couple of feet smaller. "This is our territory."

"Yeah," his two other friends agreed both just as big and loud as their leader.

The smaller boy stared up at the trio with confident eyes, which were an intense shade of red. "I don't think so," he said simply, a small smirk curling his lips. "This playground is now under the ownership of the orphanage, meaning this is our place."

The much larger boy's face contorted into a scowl as he swiftly grabbed the collar of his opponent's shirt. "I don't think so," he spat, making the little boy grimace uncomfortably.

"Oh? Is that so?" There was a tentative silence, neither boy speaking. A still breeze blew, ruffling the little boy's bright crimson hair into his similarly-colored eyes.

The larger boy drew an arm back; his hand clenched tightly, his face determined and furious. The boy in his grasp kept a straight, unmoved expression, not willing to show any fear or panic until –

"ITTOKI OTOYA!"

There was a loud sort of banging sound, making Otoya snap out of his odd daydreaming with a jerk. The redheaded boy cried out in surprise and fell off his seat with a fairly painful thud onto the wooden floor.

"…ouch…" Otoya mumbled unintelligently, rubbing his now-sore backside. "Who – " Otoya caught the stern, onyx glare of the teacher who towered above him, his face looking incredibly unfathomable – a sure sign that sensei was angry.

"And will Otoya kindly tell the class what his lovely dream was?" the teacher said in a low tone, his lips barely moving. "Or better yet, why not settle for detention?"

A few of the boys at the back snickered as the teacher wrote down on his clipboard Otoya's death sentence and walked away. Otoya groaned to himself and clambered back to his seat.

"Psst. Otoya-san," the boy to Otoya's right hissed, his dark eyes sympathetic behind his glasses. "You okay?"

Otoya gave him his usual, carefree smile. "I'm fine. I haven't gotten enough sleep lately, that's all."

"The people back at Hidamari won't be so happy if they hear that you've gotten detention," he mumbled, shaking his head. He and Otoya looked back at the teacher for a few moments, pretending to pay attention to his lecture on an ukiyo-e – some art about woodblocks and prints, Otoya recalled – artist by the name of Utagawa Hiroshige.

The teacher talked endlessly of dark themes and landscapes and things 10-year-olds didn't really care about, but Otoya found out that listening to sensei just made him even drowsier. He shook his head and instead focused on the notebook that lay open on his armchair, where he was supposed to scribble down notes, but had only managed to write down the first kanji of their topic's name – uta, meaning song.

Hmm, song… Otoya thought absently, his thoughts straying to his acoustic guitar lying on his bed back at the orphanage. He had promised the little ones that he would play something for them later on, but it seems that that plan is going to be postponed.

"Okay, I want each of you to submit an essay on any of Hiroshige's works, understand?" the teacher said loudly, his eyes flitting to Otoya for a moment, as if the homework as directed to him only. "No less than three paragraphs, each paragraph having four to five sentences."

The class gave out a collective groan and stuffed their books and notebooks back into their bags, their hopes for a workless weekend dampened by their least favorite teacher.

"Oh, yes, Ittoki, stay," he added as an afterthought, and all the students but Otoya and his seatmate sped out of the room, eager for freedom.

"Go ahead and tell the others I'm getting home late, Yuu," Otoya mumbled, ushering his bespectacled friend out.

"But –"

"Go, Suzuno, now," Sensei said loudly, interrupting Yuu from arguing further. He sent Otoya an unsure glance.

"I'll be fine, Yuu, trust me," Otoya assured.

"We'll see about that, Ittoki," Sensei said lowly, with a small, almost sinister curl of his lips.

Otoya pulled a smile (albeit a tired one) on his face as he sees the welcome sign for what he has called home for the past two years or so. A fairly large house stood feet from where he stood. It was quaint and had walls the color of cream, with bushes and plants bordering an asphalt path to the main entrance.

HIDAMARI CHILDREN'S HOME – TOKYO

"H-hey! Otoya-nii-chan's back!" a loud, excited voice floats from the house, and suddenly the main door opens, spilling light onto Otoya's path.

"Otoya-nii-chan, it's almost dinner time!"

"Otoya-nii-chan, welcome home!"

"Otoya-nii-chan, you were supposed to play something for us!"

Several children, male and female alike, ranging from four-year-olds to those around ten, crowded around their beloved "Otoya-nii-chan", talking rapidly and tugging at his loose uniform, trying to catch his undivided attention.

"Alright, alright," a louder, much more mature voice, hushes the energetic pack of children. "Otoya-nii – I mean, Otoya – needs to sit down and rest for a short bit. Come on, let him in first."

Otoya sent his friend a thankful smile and allowed the children to pull him inside, still chattering happily.

"Otoya-kun, why are you home so late?" an older woman with silvery hair reprimanded, her dark eyes looking at Otoya worriedly. "Did something happen at school?"

Otoya smiled very slightly. "Had to finish some projects, Suzuno-san, that's all."

The woman stared at him critically for a moment, and then sighed. "Alright, dear. Now, would you like something to eat? Dinner won't be ready for a couple more minutes."

"Oh, no, I'm okay with waiting," Otoya answered politely, collapsing tiredly on one of his favorite armchairs in the home's family room, the one nearest to the fireplace.

The woman nodded, leaving the room full of children, all looking at Otoya hopefully.

"Otoya-nii-chan, will you play that song for us now?" a girl with messily braided hair asked softly, poking Otoya's thigh meekly.

"Of course, of course." Otoya managed a weak smile, watching the children respond eagerly and each sit down cross-legged on the thick, velvet rug.

"I wanna get Otoya-nii-chan's guitar!" a boy volunteered loudly, jumping up with his hand raised in the air, his dark hair falling into his eyes.

"Aw, I wanted to get it, Taku!" another boy complained swiftly, crossing his arms.

"You can get it together," Yuu suggested. "That way it'll be safer."

"Yey!" And the two dashed out of the room.

"You look really tired, Otoya-nii-chan," the girl with braided hair pointed out, frowning deeply.

"I'm fine, Tomoka," Otoya assured gently, ruffling his hair absently. "So how was school today?"

As if he had said the magic words, Tomoka brightened, her greyish-blue eyes lighting up. "Sensei asked us to draw who we considered a hero!"

"A hero?"

"I drew Suzuno-kaa-chan!" someone from the other children chirped.

"Hey, me too!"

"I drew Yuu-chan!"

"You drew me? I hope you get a perfect score then."

"I think Otoya-nii is a hero!"

"Ah, me too!"

Otoya could barely hide his smile. "You think I'm a hero?"

"Of-of course, big brother!"

"Yeah, especially when you chased away those bullies from the playground!" Tomoka gestured wildly, mimicking the movements of a kickboxer. "Onii-chan was like haiiyaah! and — "

"Tomoka, I didn't even fight anybody."

"I know, but you looked really tough, Onii-chan!"

All Otoya could do was chuckle.

Well, if he could be a hero for them, why not?

Disclaimer: All things familiar in heartstrings are the sole ownership of their respective copyright holders, namely broccoli, UTA*PRI project, Elements Garden, Lantis and more. I only own Original Characters, added plot and the like.

Reprinting, reposting and/or redistributing without formal and written permission are against my law.