My newest story that I've started, called "A Debt Yet Paid," and it is a HieiXOC story--not a Kurama fic. Though it may seem like that at first.

NOTE: For those that have been reading my story "The Ouran Farm," I apologize for not having updated yet. It is on pause because I have unfortunately hit a major writer's block with it's latest development. I'm having to rewrite chapters and edit the plot because I am unsatisfied with how things are. Once again, I apologize.

Though I have been having better luck with this story and I have already written the first few chapters which will be posted within the week. After that, expect a new chapter every week. If school and sports become to much for me, then my own deadline will be stretched to every two weeks.

Please, R&R. Arigatou!

I sighed tiredly as I untied the apron around my waist and tossed it on a wrack to be cleaned at a later time. The clock on the wall mocked me, both hands reaching towards the top as the hour grew later. With a yawn, I shuffled over to the closet where my things were.

"Aye kid, ya' leavin' any time tonight or not?" a gruff voice asked from behind me.

I looked over my shoulder to look at Kai, the restaurant's owner and my current boss, tapping his foot impatiently as he stared at me expectantly. Grabbing my jacket and book bag, I nodded and headed towards the back door. "Yes, sir," I replied meekly, ducking around him.

He gave a deep chuckle and ran a hand through his thinning brown hair. "That attitude is gonna' get ya' into trouble someday, girl. Ya' need to get some spunk in that mouth of yours," he told me jokingly.

I turned around to face him, my shoulders squared and head held high in defiance. "There's a difference between spunk and stupidity, Hasegawa-san," I replied briskly, giving him what he wanted. It was always a game between the two of us, we were always picking fun at each other.

He gave me an amused look, folding his muscular arms in front of his chest in an intimidating way that would have probably scared the crap out of any thug on the street. I used to be afraid of him, too--just as anyone would be with a man who had arms as thick as tree trunks--but I soon realized that Kai was anything but cruel or rough. In fact, I see him more as an oversized teddy bear waiting to be hugged.

I flashed him a small grin in response, shoving my arms into the jacket's sleeves and pulling the hood over my head. It was raining--again. "As nice as it is to work in this dump," an ironic statement since Hasegawa's Café was one of the most popular locations in the city, "I have to get home and salvage what's left of my brain to do homework."

There was a concerned look in the man's eyes as he looked at me, slowly turning to sympathy. I felt a spark of anger begin to flicker, not wanting him to feel sorry for me--we had already had that conversation. He offered to raise my pay and cut my hours a bit, but I refused to get any special treatment just because I had to work when my father wouldn't. I didn't want to be mauled by the other waitresses that worked here.

Just as I was about to open my mouth to say something, Haru came in through the backdoor wearing a blue raincoat and the bottom of his pants soaking wet.

Hamasaki Haru was a man probably in his early twenties ( I never bothered to ask his age), unbelievingly tall and lean, dirty blonde hair left to hang in his dark green eyes, perfectly tanned skin, a guy that nearly any woman would want, and he treated me like a younger sister.

Of course, I had absolutely no objections to that because where his looks where perfect, his personality left something to be desired. "Fucking rain, why can't it go drown some other guy going to work. And I had to walk to work because the bus doesn't run this late--the nerve!!" He was the older equivalent of a spoiled brat--if he could even be considered an adult.

"Aye, shortie, what are you still doing here? Isn't it past your bedtime or something?" the blonde asked as he towered over me, ruffling my head in a teasing manner. I glared intensely up at him, cursing my short stature and his overly tall one.

A dry laugh escaped Kai's throat as he pointed implicitly to the clock behind him. "Your shift started twenty minutes ago and Yuri has been covering for your sorry butt. Be grateful to the kid," he rumbled tersely.

Rolling his eyes, Haru patted my head in an affectionate way, his movements causing water to roll off his sleeves. "Can you please quit dripping on me?" I asked bluntly, flicking off the droplets of water on my forehead.

With a defeated sigh, the man tugged his coat off and walked over to the sink to wash his hands. "Fine, leave me to my misery and go home to a nice, dry, warm bed," he sniffed dramatically.

Nice, dry, warm bed my butt, I thought wirily, though kept it to myself. "Okay, I will," I replied smartly, turning to the door and waving over my shoulder. The blonde started whining louder and my boss just heaved a sigh, muttering incoherent things under his breath as I left.

I was a downpour outside and the thought, We need water to live, but too much will kill us, came to mind as I stepped out from underneath the roof ledge and into the pouring rain. I hugged my bag as close as possible to me, hoping to keep it as dry as possible. There was no way I could pay for another school book without having to get another job.

My feet splashed in puddles of polluted water as I ran, my pants and jacket already soaked through, but I still quickened my pace. I loved the feeling of the rain hitting my face, the cool water refreshing more so than a shower could ever be.

I made it to my father's condo, only to find that the front door was locked--as expected. Hurrying to the alleyway next to the building, I quickly scaled the fire escape to the landing level with my room's window. I pushed the glass up and slipped into my room, water from my clothes dripping on the hardwood floor. I always had to leave my window unlocked for emergency purposes, whether it was getting in or out.

Putting my book bag on the desk next to the window, I tiptoed to the stairs, leaning over the railing to see Hiro passed out on the couch in the room below with beer cans scattered about everywhere. I heaved a sigh of relief and made my way to the bathroom to take a shower, knowing my father wouldn't wake up with so much alcohol in his system.

I quickly cleaned myself, groaning silently as I fought to get the last few drops of shampoo out of the bottle. I'll have to go shopping tomorrow, I thought, wondering how to go about it between work and school. There were so many things I needed to do and so many more that I wanted, but I never had the time for half of them.

Shutting off the water, I wrung my hair out and wrapped my small frame in a towel. Taking a dry rag, I wiped the fog from the mirror and stared at my reflection for a time, trying to decipher what I had seen many times before.

Short, wet, auburn hair clung to the nape of my neck and forehead, brushing against the tips of long eyelashes. My bangs hid a small, diagonal scar from view on my right temple--barely noticeable unless one looked closely enough. It wasn't just my five-foot height that made me appear a child-like; it was my round face and large honey-colored eyes. I'm a third year in high school and I look like I should still be in middle school, I thought irritably.

With a sigh, I walked back to my room and locked the door behind me--precautionary measures. The last thing I wanted was my father stumbling in here still drunk, or even worse with a hangover.

I grabbed a nightgown out of my dresser--not really caring which one of the two I owned it was--and pulled it over my head. I took a comb from the nightstand and ran it through my hair, glad that it always seemed to be tangle-free. Otherwise I would have to waist money on some crap to keep it from matting.

With a light plop, I jumped on my bed, grabbing my pillow and squeezing it as close as possible to me. I remembered something about having homework to do, but I was simply too exhausted to do anything. The alarm clock next to my bed read twelve o' six in bright, red numbers.

Heaving another tired sigh, I rolled over to look out the window and watch as rain pelted the window. Eventually, I gave in to the temptation of resting, closing my eyes and falling into a dreamless sleep.

~x~

It wasn't my alarm clock that woke me up in the morning, it was the persistent pounding on my door. There were words being shouted as well, but in my sleepy state I could barely make out what was being said. Though I quickly recognized the voice of Hiro and I threw the covers off to stagger to the door.

"I'm coming, Hiro-san," I called trying to sound obediently polite--neither he nor myself wanting to call him father. He saw me as a waste of space and I didn't see him as a parent of any sort.

I cracked the door so I could peek my head out, but it was slammed open, knocking me back against the wall. My father stormed into the room, swaying dangerously as he loomed over me. Before I could blink, he backhanded me across my cheek with a resounding slap.

"Where have you been, slut?! I had to make my own dinner last night because of you," he screamed drunkenly at me, his breath reeking of alcohol. It made me sick to my stomach.

I didn't bother to tell him that I was at work so he could have dinner. "Did you try to run away only to realize that you can't live without my roof over your head or were you off having some fun like the tramp you are?" he leered at me, and I mentally cringed from his accusations.

I was the one who paid the bills because he refused to, and he was the one who always had some whore home every other night. I bit my tongue, though, ducking my head in submission to just take his harsh words. I always had to, I deserved it after all.

"The only reason I put up with your kind of behavior is because I made a promise to your mother. I don't see why she would want a brat like you taken care of, though, especially when you got her killed!" he lashed out at me, his fist striking me across the face.

I squeezed my eyes shut as my head was bashed to the side, his words more painful than his punch. He always brought it up, the memory as fresh as if it had been yesterday, not years ago. I wanted to fight back, tell him that it hadn't been my fault, but there was always the guilt that haunted me. It felt like an anchor chained around me neck, threatening to drown me at sea.

I looked up through my bangs at him, a wavering glare, unable to keep the hatred from my gaze. Hiro's fiery eyes narrowed as he snarled and gave a final blow in my gut before tread out with heavy steps. "I expect breakfast, bitch," he slurred, slamming the door closed behind him.

I let out a ragged breath while clutching my stomach as I fell to the ground, bending over in pain. A hoarse cough escaped my lips, racking through my chest and causing my body to jerk violently. It's my own fault…

My limbs shook in protest as I hoisted myself up, leaning against the dresser to get my bearings again. The stinging in my cheek turned into a throbbing pulse all throughout the left side of my face, and I glanced in the mirror. I tilted my head towards the light to see a bruise forming on my cheekbone and my jaw was swelling.

I hope it's not broken, I thought ruefully, wishing that I hadn't answered the door. The bruise was easy enough to cover up with a bit of make-up, but if there was something broken it would be a bit harder to hide. I could always say that I tripped and ran into a pole…or a brick wall, I sighed sullenly, touching the injury lightly.

I opened my mouth and moved my jaw around a bit to assess the damage, but there was only the ache that was first there, so I assumed there was nothing major.

The alarm on the nightstand went off and I trudged over to it, turning it off before going to the dresser. Most of the drawers were empty, but I had enough for a few outfits: ten shirts or so, five pairs of blue jeans, three pairs of shorts, socks and underwear, a few bras, and of course the two nightgowns. What else did anyone really need?

My school uniform was in a drawer all by itself so it wouldn't get lost or wrinkled. I slipped on the magenta blouse with slight distaste--I was never one for pink--and the skirt that reached just above my knees. I pulled on my socks, happy that my feet weren't so cold in the thin wool--it was getting closer to winter.

I hurried to the bathroom to brush my hair and teeth, then ran back to my room to grab my school bag and hurried down the stairs.

Hiro was laying on the couch again, a can of beer already in his hand and the television blaring away. His hateful glare turned to me, tossing his drink at me only for it to hit the wall. "I want bacon and eggs, slut," he drawled, his eyes already glazing over from the alcohol.

"Yes, sir," the rehearsed answered rolled off my tongue as my father demanded. Putting my bag on the kitchen table, I dug out a frying pan and spatula.

I began to cook breakfast: bacon, eggs, and a few pieces of toast that I could eat on the way out. Sticking the crunchy bread in my mouth, I made Hiro's plate, carried it into the other room, and set the food at his feet which were propped up on the table.

"Enjoy," I muttered quietly, then scurried out the door before my father could start complaining about something else.

The morning air was freezing and I quickly pulled on my jacket, throwing the hood over my head to keep my ears warm. My fingers were shaking and I had trouble getting the zipper pulled up. The bitter cold nipped at my face and hands, which I quickly shoved into my pockets.

There was no sign of the sun rising, but the sky to the east had a gray tinge to it that I could just make out. It was hours before school started, but I had a job to do which included making sure the lovely people of my neighborhood got their daily newspaper. Did I mention that I lived in an area well-known for gang activity and high crime rate?

I picked up my pace to a moderate job in hopes of warming up, avoiding patches of ice where the rainwater had frozen. Where there was patches of grass in lawns or cracks in the pavements, there was a layer of frost covering it. Clouds hung low in the sky and brushed the roofs of buildings.

I came to a stop in front of one particular building, a sign on the front reading "Unmei Tribute." The rusty chains that held it up threatened to snap underneath the extra weight of icicles frozen to the bottom. As I hopped up the starts, I knocked them off, the ice shattering on the ground like glass.

It was much warmer inside and I quickly shut the door behind me to keep out the cold blowing in. Jumping up and down in place, I stood in front of the heater positioned in the corner of the room.

It was a plain office: a desk, a filing cabinet, a trashcan threatening to overspill, and an old TV placed on a table. There was a crappy romance novel shoved under one of the legs on the table where it was shorter than the rest. The moss green paint on the walls was chipping in places and the cream tile flooring belonged more in a dentist's office.

Riyoka, the newspaper's secretary and editor sat behind the desk, staring at the computer screen in front of her. She was an elderly woman, her graying hair pulled back into a tight bun with a few brown strands left to hang, but there was hardly a wrinkle on her skin that gave away her age.

"Ohayo, Egawa-san. Is my delivery ready?" I asked, vigorously rubbing my arms to create heated friction. The hairs on my arms were still standing on end and shivers continued to rack throughout my body.

She didn't bother to look at me, her gaze remaining on the monitor, but her head nodded in a candid yes. "In the back. You also have a check in your box," she told me nonchalantly. In the reflection of her glasses perched on her nose, I could see her playing poker on her computer.

What a crafty, old woman. "Full house, go all in," I told her, flashing a grin. She jumped slightly and turned to look at me with surprise written on her face as I disappeared through the back door with a fit of maniacal giggling.

Old, broken down machines laid around in the room to continue rusting, along with scraps of paper and layers of dust. There were small cubbyholes aligned against one of the walls for the "paper boys" that ran routes for the shop. I grabbed my bag already filled with papers and an orange envelope that hopefully held my paycheck for the week. Throwing the bag over my head, I headed back into the icy weather outside.

It amused me greatly to see that Riyoka was typing away furiously at a random document when I went back through the room.

Once again, I took off at a quick pace, glancing down at the watch on my wrist. It was fifteen after six; I had forty-five minutes to finish my route, then another hour to do a little homework before school started.

Keeping my strides even and watching carefully where I stepped, I finished the first half of my task without any trouble. I stopped at the community bakery to buy myself something to eat. When I stepped out of the store, I shoved a strawberry muffin in my mouth and another wrapped up in my bag for lunch later.

By the time all of my newspapers were gone and I had made it to school, the sun was visible over the horizon and the frost was beginning to melt away. Other students were already showing up, lingering around the campus to socialize and gossip. Probably the basic "she's cheating on him" or "they slept together," and I wanted no part of the routine scandal--it was all ridiculous teenage bull.

Nor did I have the time to mingle, I had school work needing to be finished. Otherwise, there was a danger of my failing this semester, which would greatly diminish the chances of me graduating and moving out of my father's apartment.

I knew that I could move out once I turned eighteen--and I had had plenty of offers to stay with people--but I wanted to be able to sever all connection with Hiro by myself once I was able to do so. I wanted to have my own place and a decent job that I could enjoy doing. I knew college was out of the question.

If I left before I graduated, the stress that my father would undoubtedly cause would cause my grades to suffer and my chances of a diploma, a better job, and a happier life would be impossible.

With a weary groan, I tugged at my bag and walked inside to finish my overdue assignments.

~x~

Reviews are always appreciated. Tell me what you like about it so far or what you think could be better. Just please no harsh flames--no one likes being bashed.

Arigatou!

~Shiro