i do not own inazuma eleven in any kind of way

Perfect

Thats what she was called by everybody. Her white hair with the few pale-blue highlights that reached her knees seemed to glitter in the evening sunlight as she made her way to the room of the student council. Her lilac coloured eyes saw every movement perfectly clear as boys blushed upon seeing her and girls stared in awe at her slender form. She was easily mistaken for a model with her pale-while skin and absolutely perfect body. But that wasn´t enough to be the councils president. She has had the top-grades in the whole school since she entered and never failed to claim even the last point. Academics, sports, she was perfect at everything and her personality seemed to show that. She wasn´t overly cold to people, nor was she a popular bitch, she was just flawless. She was nice and had a protecting type of character towards the girls while still acting cute and blush at times. She wouldn´t act spoilt with the boys either. She would be rather tomboyish but still very ladylike. But the most importent thing, was her smile. The smile that almost never left her lips. When it wasn´t serious matters or she was playing offended or frowned, she would always have a smile on her lips. Not once was she seen crying, screaming or without warmth in her eyes. That wasKyoune Hana.

Or so everyone thought

None of them knew her real self. The fears and horrors she kept inside. She was not even near perfect if one would look past her facade. She was crying a lot actually, almost on a daily basis and she was as fragile as glas. She had a dark personality locked inside herself only waiting to be let out of the cage she created herself to not fall again. To never fall back into the darkness that was seen by her and her respectively. One shall never see this side of her. Thats what was the purpose of her 'perfect' facade, but she wanted the oposite. She was waiting for that one person to break through the paper thin chains that held her like steel. But no one ever cared. They couldn´t see behind her fake smile she practiced for so long, and those who could see wouldn´t bother mentioning it since they were scared. Scared of what waited behind those dead eyes that seemed to devour life in itself. Her wish to break her chains was soon to strong to bear, but she couldn´t break free. She herself couldn´t

She started playing soccer. Why you ask? To say it in the words of a certain soccer freak: ''When passing the ball, your emotions, your words, your everything is being tranferred to the other person and the whole team will understand your will''. That was her reason. She kicked the ball with all of her frustration in hope one could decipher her very self from it. Nobody could. Not one member of her team, nor the enemy could know what was the driving force of this girl. She just seemed abnormally strong to them while she just shot with all of her agony and frustration bottled up and released in that one moment. She felt uterly defeated

Was there no one to understand her pain?

No one with the key to open her chains and free her from the prison she herself made?

She was about to give up, but then, in her second year of high school, she met him and her world started to change. From grey to more colours one could name, from one second to the other, her world grew in colour as she cried her heart out for the first time. And for the first time, there was someone to see her crying face. On that day, the girl learned once again what this one word ment. This one word that made her human once again. The one thing to return a soul into her liveless eyes

Emotion.