September 1st, 1939: England, London.  

"Tao," his mother says in her proper accented way as she swats him away from the newspaper boys herding the ladies and men dressed in proper clothes instead of the rags most poor people wear, "I told you not to give to strangers." 

"My teacher says these people need money, mum" he says softly, chin tucked against his chest as he eyes a tall lanky boy run across the street, a large bundle underneath his arm as he ducks his way through the crowd to get to a lady wearing tall heels and a long dress. "Plus, they can't be all bad."  

The boy is running back across the street, his bundle still as fat as before, and his feet land him in front of Tao and his mother (whom he's holding the hand of) "would you like to read thee' newspaper miss and young mister?"  

"Anything of interest, or is it just about who owns too many cats again," His mother says, nose held high as she releases a giant puff of air from her busty chest.  

"Well ma'm, I beckon you don't know that France and us have declared war on Germany, the damn grunts have tried to attack Poland." He says proudly, pulling out his bundle as Tao's mother covers with her gloved hands.  

"War?" Tao repeats, brown eyes looking up towards his mother's horrified gaze, "what does he mean that we be going to war, mum?"  

The boy, at least 4 years older, smiles a toothy grin (at least 2 teeth are missing, and it doesn't look like he brushes all too well) "it means we're all going to starve."  

"Blasphemy!" She huffs out, "you just be making things up, damn runt!" Picking Tao's hand back up, she raises her chin and drags her child along.  

"I'm Tao!" Tao calls after towards the newspaper boy, "I hope you don't starve!"  

The boy blinks, and Tao's mother shushes him with a wicked hiss.  

 ∞

September 23rd, 1939: England, London. 

The boy from before had been terribly right, Tao realizes with a hungry stomach as his mother ushers him back into the house because it's terribly dangerous to be roaming around outside too much.  

Supplies are low, and people are whispering about the war and what is actually going on. People speak of a man named Hitler, most hiss his name, and some respect it.  

"A horrible, despicable man," his mother says every night before bed as she tucks her hungry children under the coverts, "I don't understand why we don't just cut off his head and begone with him."  

"Killing him won't do us any good, miss" Kai says, a farm boy accent straight off his tongue as he turns onto his side, Kai had come from Poland, Tao's father says, and he's the only son of a very nice family. Tao, truthfully, doesn't like Kai, his eyes are much too heavy and knowing for a 12 year old, and he refuses to play outside with Tao half the time.  

"How can you defend him?" She huffs, "he ran you 'bout right out of your homes! Looking for Jews, he says, well, he hardly knows what a Jew is himself! He's just grabbing people blind and forcing them to serve under him." 

"Do people not return from the place they go?" Tao asks, raising a small eyebrow as he goes onto his knee's, curiosity engulfing him as his mother lowers her head and shakes it slowly.  

"No one escapes Hitler" Kai says gravely, "that's why we all 'ought to run away. Even then, soon here won't be safe." 

"Have more faith in God, God will never let such a filthy man touch us." Her curls are a lot looser now days, Tao thinks, and his mother's dresses aren't as extravert as they used to be. She seems older, wiser, and more cautious.  

Tao let's out a long tired sigh, falling back into his bed, and he thinks of the newspaper boy and wonders if he's still selling newspaper even though people are warned not to be outside.  

We don’t know what's coming, this is such a burdensome war. Though Tao finds it quite safe, nothing bad has happened lately.  

 ∞

October 2nd, 1939: England, London.  

Tao's mother finally agreed to let him and Kai wander the streets, though, Tao realizes the streets are a lot more empty lately and there isn't a bunch of men in their suits walking along.  

There isn't much men in general, actually.  

"They've all gone to war to serve their country" Kai says softly, guiding Tao away from sweet shops and instead towards the shops selling diary and bread, "Madam said we need to get food for dinner tonight, that we're out."  

"We'd better hurry," Tao says, clacking his shoes against the pavement and being extra careful that he doesn't step on the cracks and brakes his mum's back. "The shop's close at 1 today, today is Sunday."  

"Do you go to church?" Kai asks, looking around the streets, "I've never seen you and Madam go to the church." 

"Mum doesn't like them, too many twats she says." Tao laughs, "how 'bout you?"  

Kai pauses, holding Tao's hand (even though Tao is 12, not 8) but times are in war, so he had agreed to letting his mother convince Kai to hold his hand like his mother does when they go out, but when they used to go out, the streets were much more crowded.  

"I don't believe in any God" Kai says finally, and Tao blinks at him. 

"Why not?" Tao asks childishly, "everyone believes in God."  

"Some don't," a boy (a  boy with a much deeper voice) says, and Tao raises his head, looking into the eyes of the lanky newspaper boy he had seen about a month ago, "the people who don't believe in God are those whom are abandoned by God himself."  

"Just," Kai finally says, giving the newspaper boy the stinky eye, "in Poland it is quite a bit different, we have different beliefs there."  

"Well that's no good," Tao huffs "we 'ought to believe in God, if we don't, what do we believe in?"  

The newspaper boy laughs low and soft, before saying, "believing in no one is a safe bet."  

"Who are you even?" Kai snaps "can you please leave? He's just a boy." 

"Doesn't look very young to me," he says pointing straight at Tao, "he looks about 11 or 12." 

"I'm sadly only 12," Tao says gravely, "I'm not a child Kai."  

"I'm Kris, I'm 15" Kris (the boy that Tao had been referring as newspaper boy the whole month) introduces, "I'm a blacksmiths son." 

"I'm a ladies son" Tao says proudly, "my mum and dad do business, though, my dad be in Poland right now."  

"Avoiding the war?" Kris asks, a glint in his eyes and Kai shakes his head. 

"He's saving children like me from that man's wrath." Kai says simply, and Kris nods his head in understanding.  

"You should be proud, and what is your name?" 

Tao smiles, eyes crinkling as he barks out his name proudly, "Tao, I'm Tao, didn't you hear me a month ago?" 

Kris laughs, joyly and loud, and something in Tao's core is warmed by his laugh, "I reckon I did."  

 ∞

October 12th, 1939: England, London. 

Kris is quite a smart boy, Tao realizes, most people are, it's just either your family can't afford anything past grade 7, or you're not gifted enough like the scholarship students. Though Tao doesn't really like Tao hanging out with anyone over the age of 11 that doesn't live in a pretty mansion, she doesn't exactly oppose it either.  

It's something about the war, Tao thinks, everyone tries to become closer to each other to have people to rely on when things become to burdensome.  

Tao really likes Kris, he's smart and fun to be around. Though Tao doesn't really appreciate how Kris must hold his hand when they're skipping pavement, or "sight-seeing" as they window shop through stores (a lot of stores are closed or out of business, and many woman are working, it seems).  

"It isn't good," Kris says, fingers interlacing with Tao's as he drags him through the bush onto a rock for them to sit down and talk on, "the war I meant, it seems like it's going to last a long while."  

"The city is becoming smaller" Tao says, without even realizing it, but it's true the city is smaller, there's less bustle and hustle and more hide behind your drapes and hope for your father's to come home.  

"It'll get bigger" Kris says wistfully, "I mean loads of people like Kai are probably going to come. Refugee's, the more power Hitler gets, the more people that'll escape to here."  

"And the men?" Tao asks, picking at his fingernails on his other hand with his teeth, a bad habit, and surely his mother would scold him right now, but he doesn't really care because he's just with Kris, and Kris seems to find his "dirty-habits" funny.  

"Well, they'll disappear." Kris says flatly, "the longer this lasts the more men they'll need, right?"  

"Well, I guess" Tao huffs, "when is your birthday, Kris?" Because talking about war too much is rather depressing, and he doesn't like it.  

"Oh me? I'll be turning 16 on November 6th" Kris chuckles, pulling both of Tao's hands into his, "I hope this war doesn't last too long, my old man will sign me into the army the moment I turn 18 at this rate."  

"I don't think the war will be long enough for me to join" Tao says sulkingly, "my birthday is May 2nd."  

"I'd go to war in your place" Kris says softly, almost whispering, and Tao thinks he wasn't even supposed to hear it in the first place, so he doesn't comment, he clears his throat and holds Kris' hand a bit tighter.  

What a strange newspaper boy. 

∞

November 6th, 1939: England, London.  

Tao isn't exactly sure how long war is supposed to last, but it's been quite awhile, and the word "war" is now just a common mentioning to him. Not rare, and certainly not uncommon. There's posters everywhere now, tempting men to go join the war and fight off Germany and their destruction. There's a lot more boys and girls from all over now, littered with foreigner's with slightly different faces and accents, some don't even speak English.  

Though Tao doesn't really mind, hearing different languages seems to be a part of his day lately, but today he has Kris to focus on, Kris is turning 16 today, which is quite a nice age, old enough to be heard but young enough to be considered a child still.  

He had bought a small baked bun just for today (though he didn't tell his mother the extra change was for the bun he had bought), but he's sure she wouldn't mind. After all, birthdays 'ought to be celebrated.  

Kris is with a few other boys, tall and lanky just like him, some already have hair growing on their face, and they're all a lot bigger than Tao. So he waits, timidly in a corner until the ragged looking boys are gone before he approaches Kris with his small bun. 

"Happy Birthday" he sing-songs cheekily, surprised when Kris turns around with wide eyes and a big toothy smile. 

"You remembered?" Kris laughs, and Tao puffs out his cheeks.  

"How could I forget? You reminded my relentlessly all last week about it." Tao whines, and Kris rolls his eyes.  

"Yes, yes, is that for me?" Tao nods his head, holding out the small gift. 

"Happy birthday Kris, let's hope this all ends soon, so... you can open up a small shop of your own, or whatever men want to do when they turn 20." 

"I'd like to be alive, yes," Kris laughs out, "being alive would be very nice."  

∞

(Tao that night dreams of opening a small bakery with Kris, the war had ended long ago, and Kris never had to go to war.) 

His dreams weren't in colour. 

A/N: Can someone please slap me? Omg. I can't even.

I based this after what my Great Grandpa and Grandparents told me (I am British, after all) so I attempted to make this sound more "british-y" but I did grow up a Japanese/Canadian, so gimme a break. 

Any incorrect information isn't my fault, I searched up most things, so I'm sure I'm 99% correct. Can never be too sure though. 

Let us just focus on the beautiful Taoris. Okay. I know this doesn't seem angst-y, and it's not supposed to be angsty right now. It's just... the beginning of the heart break? Idk man. Go read manga to understand my blabbering. OH GOD I CAN'T WRITE THIS /CRIES 

Oh yeah. Tumblr. Follow. Yes.