CHAPTER 1 - Not the life he'd planned for

For the first time, the seats on the train felt comfortable enough that Keitaro

didn't have to readjust his position every few minutes. Of course, that probably had little to do with the seat itself, and more with the exhaustion that coursed through his body.

Like most that take this particular train, he was returning from a long days work. His head lay against the top of the seat, eyes closed and ears just listening to the clack of the railway.

'Another week gone by.' He thought.

He really wished that he could use these two days off and just relax to get ready for the coming week. But he knew better.

The 20 year old young man had obligations that wouldn't put themselves on hold just because he was tired.

The call for his stop echoed through the half filled apparatus, the small screech of the brakes being applied bringing him to a somewhat alert state of mind.

"Let's see… Meeting with the teacher tomorrow morning, doctor's appointment after that….And then….ice cream at the park while I get stared at like i'm a pedophile." Keitaro murmured to himself, going through a mental checklist of the next days events.

He could never tell exactly how long of a walk it was from the station back to the apartment building he begrudgingly called 'home'. He was usually either too tired to keep track, or too lost in his thoughts. All he knew, was to turn left out of the station, walk four intersections, take another left, then a right two side streets down.

A hand ran through his brown shaggy hair, shaking out the saw dust and other materials that had found themselves attached to him throughout the day.

Looking down at the hands that were far too rugged to belong to someone his age, the scrapes, scars and callouses of a TV set builder only reminded him of just how far he'd strayed from the life he had imagined himself.

"From student to Breadwinner. Who'd have thought."

Keitaro caught sight of his reflection from one of the storefront windows at the last turn before he made it home.

Brown hair that couldn't be tamed, no matter the amount of grooming or hair product.

Light brown eyes narrowed to give the look of a man, not a teenager, that took himself seriously.

The tight jawline which only complimented his no nonsense appearance.

His body held a firm build, hours of hard work giving him a musculature that men spent indefinite hours in the gym to maintain.

Keitaro turned away from the window with a sigh, making the last turn before his apartment building came into view.

It was only 4 in the afternoon, which had worked out great for him. Keitaro much preferred to start early and end early.

Plus it gave him more time to spend with the person he loved more than anything else on this planet. The one that relied on him to be the serious, no nonsense person he'd become over the last 6 years.

Kanako, his far too energetic little sister. 8 years old, and looked like a breeze could carry her away with how tiny she was.

She should have arrived home just a few minutes before him, and should be waiting in the building managers office, just like they'd agreed.

His apartment was in a run down 2 story building with 5 units on each floor. The current manager had owned the building since it was first built in the 1960's, and had paid it off some years ago. That was the only reason the place hadn't been sold or closed, seeing as how only 3 units were filled at the moment.

Walking into the front door, Keitaro took his keys out and checked the mailbox that was on the wall to his right. The mail key and Keitaro never quite got along, as it took him on average 12 tried to get seated and turned to open the compartment.

About a half dozen envelopes sat waiting, 4 of which had bold red lettering with FINAL NOTICE plastered on them.

"*Sigh* just great." He hated this time of the month. Try as he might, he just couldn't seem to get caught up with all of his bills.

Twice now this had happened, his bills being 'lost in the mail', and therefore past due.

He made just enough money to pay each on time, but after these little mishaps, he couldn't afford to pay multiple months and get everything they needed. So they stayed just on the brink of going to collections.

With mail in hand, Keitaro walked down the hall and to the slightly opened door on the left side with 'Manager's Office' at eye level.

KNOCK KNOCK

Keitaro opened the door and took a few steps inside. The desk at the far end of the room was where his query was located as usual.

A man in his early 70's, but looked no more than 55. Black hair, dark brown eyes, a serious air about him that mimicked Keitaro's. Dressed in a gray polo and jeans, to give a minor professional yet ready to work if need be appearance.

"Afternoon Urashima-san."

Returning the greeting, Keitaro's eyes glanced around, looking for his sister. The desk had an open bottom, so she couldn't be hiding under there, the couch against the wall was too short for her to get under. Keitaro turned his gaze back to his landlord.

"Is Kanako here yet?"

The manager shook his head.

"Haven't seen the little one all day i'm afraid."

'Strange.' Keitaro thought, this wasn't like her at all. She would normally be waiting to pounce on him the moment he stepped through the door.

"Thanks. I'll go check the apartment before calling the school."

With our waiting for a reply, Keitaro walked out of the room and towards the stairs to the second floor where his own apartment was.

'Please tell me you're not in there alone with him Kanako.'

The drunk waste of space that was unfortunately Keitaro's father. 6 years ago he had been a successful business owner, alongside Keitaro's mother. A bakery and candy store that had been well known throughout the area, just on the brink of becoming a chain.

But then she had been diagnosed with stage 4 in-operable ovarian cancer. One month later, she took her final breath as Keitaro told her about his day at school.

His hand just about on the doorknob, Keitaro heard a familiar sound coming from inside.

'Not this again…'

The volume of the TV was far too loud, probably nearing its maximum. The sound of laughter and music seeped through the door.

It was the video from the wedding of Mr and Mrs. Urashima.

A video that only got played when his father had been on a heavy binge that day, which didn't bode well for what Keitaro would find inside.

As soon as the door opened, just like he thought, the volume was maxed on the tv.

The room smelled a sewer, and Keitaro had to pull his shirt over his nose to keep from vomiting.

Laying there on the couch,TV remote in hand, was his unconscious father.

Brown hair, long and disheveled from lack of proper hygiene. Crumbs from whatever he had tried to eat on his face.

What had once been a white T-shirt was stained with yellow, red and brown, and looking like it was straining to contain the gut of the man wearing it.

Gray sweat pants that the elastic band had been stretched from overuse.

His father's skin had been taking a yellow hue to it these last few months, a sign that the binge drinking was finally catching up to him.

'Good.' Keitaro thought.

The man hadn't been anything more than a burden for far too long. He knew that thought shouldn't have even crossed his mind, but Keitaro wouldn't feel anything but relief if the man who used to be his father ceased to exist.

'She already thinks i'm her dad anyway.'

That was something that Keitaro had tried and failed to get Kanako to realize.

She had been calling him 'Daddy' since they moved to this apartment. For an 8 year old little girl, she was extremely stubborn when she wanted to be. And this was just one of those things that he apparently would never change.

Her reasoning was fairly sound too.

"You take care of me, make me breakfast, lunch for school, dinner too. You get me clothes, make me take a bath, and play with me. He, just yells and smells bad. So you're my daddy, not him." The hmph and head turn after her proclamation had apparently been the end of that discussion.

But god did he ever wish she would learn not to call him that whenever her real father, adopted or not, was actually awake.

Those days were some of the bigger reasons Keitaro loathed the passed out alcoholic. The times he heard Kanako refer to Keitaro as her father sent him into a fury that only ended after he went unconscious, either from the booze, or Keitaro's fist.

Keitaro walked up to the TV and unplugged it, not wanting to even attempt getting close enough to his father to get the remote.

Now that silence reigned, Keitaro's other senses took in the full scope of his 'home'.

The smell was worse then usual. A mix of urine and vomit that Keitaro was sure would take forever to air out.

Dreading what he already knew, Keitaro walked into the small kitchen and opened the fridge.

He wished he hadn't.

Dry heaving as he quickly shut it, Keitaro mentally cursed his father with as many invectives as he could think of. Being around a group of middle aged blue collar guys forty hours a week, that was a long list.

"Guess we're eating out tonight. The bastard can starve, enough fat on his bones to last him a month without food anyway."

Seeing the state the fridge was in gave Keitaro a better idea on just how plastered his father was.

The drawer where he usually put the vegetables had been pulled open and pissed in, and the shelves were covered in vomit. unfortunately this wasn't the first time.

'How you confuse a fridge for a toilet, i'll never understand.'

Out of the kitchen now, a familiar anger simmered in his veins as he walked down the hall to his and Kanako's room, thinking of just how much more work was required of him this weekend.

The door to his room was closed, a good sign that he would find her in there, as the door was almost always open unless they were sleeping.

'One, two, one.' Keitaro tapped on the door in the way that let Kanako know that it was him on the other side, and stepped inside.

"Daddy!"

"Oof!"

Keitaro nearly had the wind knocked out of him by a little black blur.

Stumbling back until he regained his balance, Keitaro felt a pair of arms and legs wrap themselves around him. Keitaro's arms instinctively held the girl that had just launched herself into him.

One wrapped around her waist, the other went under her legs to keep her in place.

"Heya kiddo."

Looking down, he was met by the beaming smile of his little sister Kanako.

Long glossy waist-length black hair that was tied with a red ribbon mid way down her back, bangs that reached her collarbone on each side of her face. The front ended just above her lavender colored eyes that looked almost pink under the right lighting.

Kanako snuggled her face into her 'daddy's' chest, almost sounding like she was purring as she did so.

"You're finally home." her voiced was muffled by his shirt.

Giving the girl an affectionate squeeze, he kneeled to set her on her own two feet, placing a hand on each of her shoulders and looked her in the eye.

"Why didn't you wait for me Kanako-chan?" The anger he'd felt just outside of this room was swept away the second she had latched onto him. His voice now carried more concern than anything else. She knew it was a bad idea to be here without Keitaro there with her.

Her head tilted down so she wouldn't see the 'disappointed daddy' face.

"He took me out of school today." She whispered.

"What? Why?" Keitaro whispered back, feeling the fire being reignited. Not anger directed at Kanako, she would have no say in the matter if the bastard had pulled her out of school.

Shaking his head, Keitaro asked the only question that really mattered.

"When did he take you from school. And did he hurt you at all?"

Kanako remained still and silent, something Kanako only did when there actually was something wrong, and she just didn't want to upset Keitaro by showing him what it was.

Lightly cupping her chin with one hand, Keitaro brought her eyes to meet his. he saw the signs of tears wanting to spill, and it brought a lump to his throat. As serious and high strung as he was at just about every other facet of his life, He had never been able to deny Kanako anything. And the look on her face right now both melted his heart, and brought forth the plan he had been contemplating for a while.

"I….I'm sorry daddy." Kanako's lips trembled as the tears built and slowly fell from her eyes.

Keitaro wrapped his arms around her as her shoulders started to shake. One arm around her waist, and the other stroking her long raven locks. Her head rested in the crook of his neck, wetting the shirt that desperately needed to be changed after his long day.

" I love you Kanako-chan. There is nothing more important to me than you are, and I just want to keep you safe."

Her sobs into his shoulder only built up the resolve to quicken his plan. To take Kanako and leave, get as far away from their father as he could. To give her the life that she deserved.

Once she had calmed down so the sobs were replaced with a sniffle every few seconds, he posed his question.

"Can you show me?" He didn't need to clarify what he was asking her, and she hesitantly nodded.

She was wearing a black dress with sleeves that went to her wrists, and in Keitaro's opinion, it was a little to Goth for someone as peppy as she was.

His heart nearly stopped when she pulled at the neckline and he clearly saw a bruise on her collarbone in the form of a hand from where he must have grabbed, and squeezed.

'That…fucking…asshole!'

If Keitaro wasn't worried that Kanako would be placed in a foster home…yet again… He would have put his father 6 feet under a long time ago. As it stood right now though, this being the 4th time he had left a mark on his innocent little sister, Keitaro was having a hard time resisting the urge.

So lost in containing his emotions, Keitaro didn't hear the tell tale sign of a drunk stumbling through the apartment, knocking things over as he went. He didn't see Kanako's eyes stop tearing up and widen as far as her sockets would allow.

"Alright kiddo, here's what we're going to do. You and I are going out for dinner somewhere. After that, pack that suitcase with wheels I bought you, and we're going to leave-"

Keitaro stopped when he finally saw the fear stricken look on her face, an uneasy feeling creeping over him as that could only mean one thing.

"THE FUCK YOU ARE!" A slurred voice called out from directly behind Keitaro.

His head snapped to the left to catch a glimpse of the figure behind him.

Smash

Only for a bottle of gin to be broken over his head, and continue sliding down his face, cutting a line from his left eyebrow down to his jaw, and just barely missing stabbing him in the eye with its jagged edges.

Keitaro was sent to the floor having a hard time seeing straight, his vision darkening by the second, the last thing he saw was the legs of his father unsteadily stomping passed him towards Kanako.

"Run…" Were the only words he managed to get out before everything went black.

-LineBreak-

"Draco Dormiens meum" She said softly, running a hand through the brown locks of her son.

Her lap held the head of her 12 year old son, his eyes straining to stay open and listen to every word that slipped passed her lips.

"What does that mean?"

It was truly a wonder, looking at him.

The contrast of how peaceful and kind he was, to the wealth of power pumping through his veins.

The term was something she'd only just thought of, but it felt appropriate to describe him.

Unprovoked, he was among the kindest and most gentle souls she'd ever seen.

But threaten his treasures, which had always been the people he loved...

And no deity, person or force of nature could help you escape his wrath.

Something she witnessed at a distance when he was 8.

And the reason for the increased pace of learning the family art.

A group of local boys, just in their teens, harassing the girl that he'd befriended just the day before.

He hadn't so much as hesitated after he saw the tear on her cheek. One of the offending boys was lucky to leave with just bruises. A broken wrist for another. The other two more than likely had concussions.

She needed to teach him control.

"It means, my sleeping dragon."

"Hmmmm... dragons are cool." The exhaustion was creeping up on him, the training was progressing at an almost scary rate, he'd always been a sponge for information, but had never thought it would cross over to physical knowledge as well.

"You ready to meet her tomorrow kei-kun?"

A slow nod into her thigh was his answer, the smile on his face was one of the things she loved most about him.

"Yea, my little sister Kanako. I can't wait."

"Starting tomorrow you're going to be a-"

-LineBreak-

"DADDY!"

Keitaro's eyes snapped open. A throbbing pain shooting though his skull from the Bottle smashed into it an unknown amount of time ago.

His neck felt stiff, his left arm asleep from him laying on it while he was unconscious.

Pushing himself into his hands and knees, Keitaro blinked his double vision away, and tried to take in his surroundings. He shook his left arm, trying to get the pins and needles feeling to go away as he surveyed the damage to his bedroom.

The window was broken, the two futons that were normally pushed together were bunched up in the corner.

The computer monitor on the desk was dangling off the edge by the power cord.

The sliding door to the closet was ripped from its hinges.

All in all, the room was a disaster, and whatever happened while he had been knocked out….It was better if he didn't about it.

'Kanako, gotta find her, and get out of here.' Keitaro thought as he slowly made his way to his feet, a mild dizziness making itself known as he did.

thud

Keitaro heard what sounded like something falling to the floor, either in the bathroom, or in the master Bedroom….

'Oh no…'

Slap

"da*sniff*daddy.." Kanako whimpered, her voice weak and barely audible through the thin walls.

Never since she had come into his life had she sounded so weak, so devoid of hope, and that scared him.

"I'M YOUR DAD! NOT HIM!" SLAP "WHEN WILL THAT SINK INTO THAT THICK FUCKING SKULL OF YOURS!"

Even though his legs clearly weren't ready to carry his weight, Keitaro stumbled out of his room and into the hall, only ten feet to the slightly opened door of his fathers bedroom. One that he hardly ever made it to, usually just spending his nights passed out on the couch.

When Keitaro didn't even hear his sister whimper, cry, or hear any movement at all, Keitaro ignored the fact that his body probably should have hardly been able to stand, and sprinted to the door.

Not bothering to slow down and push the door open, Keitaro barreled into it, the door handle smashing into the dry wall leaving a hole.

There was no time to think, no time for emotions, only action.

His eyes caught the sight of his father kneeling over Kanako, both hands wrapped around her neck, his teeth grit in a drunken fury.

Kanako's arms attempting to pry the much stronger ones off of her to no success. Her face was red from the blood not being allowed to flow back down.

Keitaro didn't waste time with words, he just kept running until he was arms length from the two on the floor of the master bedroom.

Using the abilities and training that had been ingrained in him by his mother, Keitaro took his right hand and placed as much force as he could on the tendons of his fathers forearm, weakening his hold around Kanako's neck.

Without thinking much about it, Keitaro used the same amount of force in his left hand, and gave a sharp chop to his fathers trachea.

The inebriated man's grip immediately went limp, from both the force on his arm, and the hit to his throat.

Coughing and struggling to breathe, Mr Urashima was grabbed by the hair and thrown the opposite direction, the back of his head smacking against the frame of the window. He sank down, head faced down and limp, the unexpected force being too much for him to remain awake.

Keitaro, seeing his opponent dealt with, sank down to his knees in front of his sister, his hand carefully moving her hair from her face to look for any injuries.

Her cheeks were tear stained, and the right cheek was bright red, obviously that was the slap he had heard before entering the room.

The initial touch from him made her try and shy away, until the familiar way that he gently pushed her hair aside, and stroked her cheek made Kanako open her eyes.

"Daddy" Her voice was hoarse.

Keitaro's hand stopped and cupped the reddened cheek.

"I'm sorry I couldn't stop him from hurting you Kanako-chan. I promise it won't happen again. Let's get you out of here."

Keitaro picked his sister up, one arm around her shoulders, and the other under her knees.

Not taking any more chances, Keitaro sat her outside of the apartment, in the hallway, across from the staircase going to the main floor.

Grabbing a large duffel bag for himself, and the wheeled suitcase that he had purchased Kanako, Keitaro set himself to grab whatever essentials he could think of, and then a few of her plushy toys.

His most pressing task finished with, the two bags were stuffed to capacity, he flung the strap of his duffle bag and slung it over his shoulder, so the bag was against his lower back.

He grabbed the extending handle to his sisters pink and black suitcase, wheeling it behind to his right as he walked to the kitchen counter to grab an envelope.

Picking it up, he could feel the bulk of cash inside, and was debating wether or not to give it to the landlord. Technically, it was his fathers responsibility to pay the rent, but both he and the manager knew that would never happen.

The responsible adult side of Keitaro won out, not wanting to place an un-needed burden on the man that had been a great help to him the last few years.

Besides, he had been placing a small portion of each check ever since he started working, to either go towards college or for an emergency. Getting Kanako away from this environment was worth the loss of his savings.

As he stepped into the hall, Keitaro knelt down to the tiny girl waiting for him. She gave him a tired smile when she saw her daddy, bags packed and ready to go.

"Ready to go Kana-Chan?" He asked with one hand extended.

Pulling herself up, Kanako gave Keitaro a curious expression and a tilt to her head she asked.

"Where are going daddy?"

"Wherever the next train will take us."

END CHAPTER 1