Just to be clear, this takes place two years before the main Sekirei timeline. Also Happy birthday, Have a Little Feith!

For the first time in his life, Harry was glad he had the patience of a saint. It meant that when the fuse finally hit the end, it went off with such an explosive force that it left nothing standing in it's wake.

And in this case, that fuse finally reached the end of the line when he realized he was being forced into a full Wizangamot trial instead of being given a reprimand from the office that watched Underage Magic.

The second he saw where he was supposed to sit, he felt his mind go red with rage and his unhealthy suppression of anger finally blew.

Oh Fudge was going down, even if he had to strangle the chickenshit bastard barehanded.

Harry showed admirable control over his anger, right up until Fudge started cutting him off.

Finally he couldn't take it anymore.

"Oh shut the fuck up, you blubbering sack of shit! If you're that determined to get rid of me, then for magic's sake why don't you ship me off to a foreign country or something? It's not like I actually care if this country burns to the ground because you rule over a bunch of sheep!" said Harry loudly enough to echo across the entire courtroom.

Silence reigned.

Seeing the shocked and scandalized expressions, Harry glared at them all.

"For fuck's sake people, I'm fifteen. Does it bother none of you that whatever infraction I committed by casting the bloody patronus would qualify as a case of UNDERAGE magic, especially considering I haven't even sat for my OWLs yet? What if I was one of your children dragged into a full Wizangamot session for something as simple as a stinging hex?!" said Harry, irate.

With no one willing to speak while he was on a roll, Harry continued. The more he spoke, the more the older and supposedly wiser wizards and witches started to glare at Fudge.

Harry had unknowingly given the cowardly Minister an idea to solve most of his problems. Which was why, almost immediately after the court room let out (Harry was cleared of all charges) Harry found himself dragged into another room by Aurors under the orders of the Minister himself.

The green eyed wizard glared at the cowardly Minister.

"It seems we have ourselves a dilemma, Mr. Potter. You see, I don't like having young upstarts stirring up dissent, much less proclaiming You-Know-Who is back. Which is why I'm willing to offer you a deal. An all expenses paid portkey to the country of your choice, and the ability to move your gold out of Gringotts no questions asked."

"And in return?"

"You agree to keep your mouth shut about You-Know-Who and don't go back to Hogwarts," said Fudge flatly.

"Quick question. If I make a magically binding contract with you that states that in no way shape or form that any witch, wizard or squib can return me to England or the UK, will it apply to everyone that's ever lived in England for more than seven years or gone to Hogwarts because your the Minister for Magic?" asked Harry flatly.

"Of course! Why, it was the Minister for Magic that signed the treaty with the King of England many years ago that gave us complete autonomy to self govern," said Fudge.

Harry smirked.

"In that case, would you like some advice to insure that the students have the proper...respect...for whomever you chose to act as a replacement teacher and make Dumbledore's life harder than it needs to be?"

Fudge listened with an attentive expression. When he heard the outline of Harry's suggestion, he was positively falling over himself with glee, because no one could fault him for trying to improve standards at Hogwarts!

In the span of a few hours, Harry had what little he wanted to take with him, a card that lifted the Underage Magic detection on him until he reached whatever country he opted to live in, and a magically binding agreement with everyone who had ever lived or stayed in Europe that prevented them from dragging him back to the UK without his permission first. And it had to be willing.

Four years of Hogwarts taught Harry one thing. Be as thorough as possible and never leave any loophole unchecked. And just to be sure everyone knew who's fault it was if Voldemort decided to make himself known, he even convinced the Minister to post the contract in the Prophet in it's entirety, even if the man did slander his name a little.

In exchange Harry made a magically binding oath not to speak against the Ministry while Fudge was Minister. If he was kicked out of office, then what did Fudge have to care what Harry said about the post or the people who had it?

He also got papers stating he was fully emancipated from both worlds (mostly to avoid having some idiot trying to send him back to his aunt's home), had all his gold moved to a Swiss account that he could access online (thus negating any chance of a wizard getting their hands on it with a mere key), and enough muggle money to live on his own until he either found a new school or got a job.

So what if Fudge had his wand snapped just in case? It was a stick, and odds were he'd be able to find a new one anyway.

Harry cheerfully said goodbye to England, and was happily humming "God Save the Queen", all the while thinking of the chaos he left in his wake.

Sure, he'd missing his friends and Sirius, but this was his life and he was sick and tired of having to fight for his life every year in a bloody school.

Besides, he really didn't want to be around for the fall out when the Queen got the owl with the copy of the contract between King Edward and the Minister, and how many breaches there were in the thing in the past hundred years alone.

To hell with England and the UK.

Hello Japan.

Thanks to the miracle of a magical passport that automatically changed to suit whatever the current standards were for the muggle version, and the fact he had his emancipation papers that clearly stated he wasn't some random runaway from another country, Harry patiently walked to the counter that sorted the incoming traffic from people who weren't from Japan originally. He didn't question the odd machine, as he hadn't exactly kept up to date with the newest developments even while he lived in Privet Drive.

He wasn't encouraged to think above his station there, so he didn't see any reason to tempt his uncle into another shouting match that might end with pain.

So naturally he was very confused when the machine made some strange noise, and the end result had him waiting in an adjacent area waiting for whatever random technician they could scrounge up to clear the matter. From what he had been able to tell, this mostly involved retrying the machine again and being given a rather decent sum of hush money so as not to create a fuss.

He had the feeling that the poor man who had to sit there and use the machine on the incoming arrivals was beyond relieved when Harry's natural British politeness made the entire thing easier than it had to be. Some of the Americans were positively belligerent about the whole process, which only reaffirmed his relief to have chosen a country as out of the way as Japan.

That and he wasn't entirely sure that the magical half of America was as separated from the English as it's mundane half, and had thought it best not to test fate.

So naturally when he realized that the ones who came to fix the machine (after having the same results confirmed a third time by a harried man) was a rather un-amused woman with prematurely white hair and a woman radiating bloodlust almost without bothering to care about what other people would think about the matter, he realized Potter Luck had decided to strike early.

He didn't even look the least bit impressed, having already guessed why the second woman was there.

"If you're hear to kill me, then for the love of whatever god exists just get it over with so I can head to whatever afterlife awaits me. If you're here to accuse me of something, then I'll happily inform you that I've never even been to Japan before in my life, much less know how to speak said language," he said in a completely flat, unimpressed voice at the show of force, despite the fact that the second woman had yet to even draw her sword.

The first woman with the clipboard shot him an odd Look. The second one opened her eyes just enough to reveal eyes almost as gray as her hair.

"I like this one," she said in accented English. She was definitely amused by the fact he either had a false sense of bravado or was so blasé about death that he didn't even bother to show fear in front of her.

"Let's get this over with. I have better things to do with my time than worry about corporate espionage from teenagers," said the first woman. "Name?"

"Harry Evans."

Considering how famous the name Harry Potter was, he went with his mother's maiden name instead.

"Age?"

"Fifteen, and before you ask I'm emancipated and not a runaway," deadpanned Harry.

She raised an eyebrow.

"Parents?"

"Dead since I was fifteen months old and my former legal guardian was beyond thrilled to sign the papers that emancipated me, according to what I was told," replied Harry, his voice never once leaving the flat tone since the meeting began.

"Schooling history?"

"Home schooled, though I wouldn't be surprised if that hag of a woman deliberately lost the records just to spite me," replied Harry. "What's this all about anyway?"

She gave him a flat look, her expression not changing.

"The machine was calibrated to detect criminals on Interpol's list, among others. But it was originally tested among the MBI staff. Your DNA had a partial hit with one of the scientists."

Harry felt like banging his head against the table repeatedly.

Of course he would fly halfway across the world just to run into a relative.

"How close a relative?"

"Second cousins at the very least," said the woman.

"Terrific. Am I required to meet them, or can I just get on with my life instead?" he asked tiredly.

"You don't want to meet your cousin?" she asked shrewdly.

Harry looked her dead in the eye and said "My only experience with family involves three people so obsessed with the idea of normal that anything that doesn't fit into that category is therefor 'freakish'. This includes everything from foreigners to those who are in a same-sex relationship, and thus they are treated like shit. Unless they're in a position that actually requires my relatives to be nice, in which case they'll do most of the insulting behind the person's back."

Seeing the woman stare at him in disbelief, he hammered the fact in that he had no idea how to handle nice relatives, he continued with the way they had raised their son.

"And that's not getting into the fact that my aunt and legal guardian helped to teach her son that it was acceptable to hunt me down, beat the living shit out of me and treating others fairly was a foreign concept and thus to be avoided, all the while spoiling him to the point that he will literally whine for hours if he so much as misses five minutes of his favorite shows, even if it's to do something as benign as homework."

"I call bullshit," said the woman flatly.

"If you ever met Petunia Dursley of Surrey, England, then I assure you that you'd believe that statement and more, before pitying me for having to stay with them for fourteen long, painful years," deadpanned Harry, giving her a look of sarcastic amusement. The irony was that he understated how bad they were.

She looked him in the eye and silently came to the conclusion that this was a kid who could lie and beat a polygraph at the same time. It was then that she noticed something about her companion, and mentally swore.

The other woman was reacting to the brat! Could this day get any worse?

"Fine. Purpose for visit?"

"Does actually having a life without the threat of someone trying to kill me count?" he asked honestly.

She stared at him.

"What."

"I came here to get away from England, because a mad man who ran a terrorist group from the sixties is making a comeback, and he's been dead set on killing me since I survived the attack that killed my parents before I was two," said Harry.

"Can you prove he's back?"

"I highly doubt you'd believe me any more than the Minister did when I tried to tell him. He was so firmly in denial he did everything in his power to get rid of me, to the point he paid for my plane ticket just so he wouldn't have to deal with the man being back," said Harry without any hesitation.

She was having trouble deciding what to do. On one hand, he was clearly a teenager with no parental supervision who had the bad luck to be directly related to the idiot she worked for. On the other, the fact she had nothing to hold him on made the entire mess not her problem so long as he didn't become an Ashikabi.

Eyeing Karasuba, she hoped like hell that the kid didn't wing the psychotic Sekirei.

As if in response to her fervent hope,. Potter Luck kicked in once more with a vengeance.

In the brief span she took her eyes off him, Karasuba had practically lodged her tongue into his throat. Ethereal wings appeared and Takami started banging her head against the table.

Harry managed to push the now highly amused Sekirei off him, feeling thoroughly violated.

"Dammit it all to the fiery pits of hell! You just had to react to the foreign kid and wing yourself without considering the fact I pay you!"

Karasuba smirked at her, and if her hair wasn't already prematurely white, she was positive this day would have turned it gray from stress.

"Someone mind explaining what the bloody hell is going on?!"

Realizing a solution that would dump most of her current problems on someone who completely deserved the migraines, Takami looked him dead in the eye.

"Good news, you're going to be meeting your cousin. Bad news, now that this alien tart has claimed you, leaving Shin Tokyo is going to be impossible," said Takami deadpan.

Harry seemed to share the same opinion as she did, because he did start banging his head against the table.

"Why. Does. This. Always. Happen. To. Me."

"Because whatever god exists hates you as much as he does me," said Takami.

Minaka took one look at Harry, then at Takami.

"Why is this my problem?" he asked confused.

Normally he'd give a rather vague speech telling the new Ashikabi they were now stuck in his game, then ignore the fact they existed unless they did something to earn his attention. While Karasuba had apparently winged herself to the foreign kid, he failed to see why the British teen was now his issue to deal with.

Takami looked extremely gleeful as she explained.

"He's your cousin, a minor (though he's legally allowed to live on his own), and he's Karasuba's Ashikabi. And since I'm not directly related to him, I have no reason to clear up this rather large mess," she said happily. Then she left him alone with a new Ashikabi, one of the most bloodthirsty Sekirei released, and a awkward silence that seemed to raise the tension levels to the point you could cut it with a knife.

"So..."

The kid rolled his eyes.

"Look, just help me get an apartment or something so I can either continue my education or find a job."

Minaka seized upon the perfect way to solve most of his current problems.

"She has a job, and she's been needing a minder for years. If you agree to sign an employment contract we can get you some home schooling until you graduate high school," said Minaka.

Harry stared at him.

"Just to be clear, any attempts to make me leave this city will result in violent, almost certainly lethal response, right?" he asked.

"Karasuba's main job is to keep her own kind in the city, mostly for their protection. And since you're her destined one, that means she'll take any such attempts to remove you personally and she has no inhibitions when it comes to lethal force. Your only job is making sure she only kills those she's allowed to, and not random people who piss her off," confirmed Minaka.

"...Where do I sign again?" asked Harry.