A/N: Another story, this time not a cross over! I love the Yatagarasu and Kay, so I decided to write something about them! WolfieRed23 gave me the idea of what Robin should look like.

Also, I'm sorry for how long this took to get up and going. It's a combination of getting my life started (ugh, I hate adulting), and just feeling unmotivated to write(not a good thing for someone looking to go into video game writing). The thought of you, my fans, and PeirceTheVeils finishing their fanfiction, "Rebirth," is what kicked me into gear though. By the way, "Rebirth" is amazing. Seriously. Go read it. Especially if you want more Yatagarasu goodness.

Well, enough rambling. Here we go!

…

Chapter One: The Beginning

Six Years Ago

"Ready or not, here I come!" a middle-aged man called, pulling his hands from in front of his eyes and looking around the living room. He sat in a thick, comfy recliner, having just finished counting to a hundred. His eyes traveled from the entertainment stand – Not there – to the floor length curtain – No little feet. He's learning – to the door that led to the hallway. If he's not in here, he must be somewhere else in the house.

With a soft groan, he stood and stretched before walking towards the hallway in hunt for his son. They played hide-and-go-seek every night, and the little boy was rapidly getting good – and creative – with hiding.

"Hm…" the man hummed as he looked around, his eyes raking over the door that lead to the front yard, the one that lead into the kitchen, the stairs, and the final exit from the hall, the door into the closet. Nodding to himself, he took two steps towards the closet, just as there was a knock on the door.

"Coming!" he called, turning away from his destination and towards the front door. "Hello?" he asked, opening it and looking up at the unexpected guest. His wife poked her head out the kitchen to see who it was. "Oh, hey. What's up?" the man said, stepping back to let the guest in.

The guest raised a handgun equipped with a silencer, pointing it at the man's chest.

"Whoa, hey, what are you doing, Pa—" With a soft pew of rushing air, the man gasped in pain. His legs buckled, and he crumpled to the ground, red starting to bloom on his white clad chest.

His wife's scream was cut off by another pew of air. She too, crumpled to the ground, her arms wrapped around her stomach as her orange shirt started to turn red. Their killer shook his head before looking around the house. He closed the door and stepped over his victims, seeming to search for something. He started upstairs, but came up empty handed. With a disgusted shake of his head, he searched downstairs as well, finally opening the door to the closet in the hallway.

"About time, Da…ddy?" a young voice said. The killer jumped back in surprise, raising his gun at the new person in the house. He stopped himself before he shot though, taking in the appearance of a six year old boy, his wild, black curls sticking up in every direction thanks to static electricity from being pressed against an old, fleece jacket for almost twenty minutes.

"Who are you? Where's Mommy and Daddy?" the boy asked, stepping out of the closet and looking around. His eyes fell onto his parents' prone bodies, and he gasped. "Mommy! Daddy!" he cried, running over to them. He first shook his mother's shoulder, before pulling on his father's arm. He then turned towards the killer. "Did you do this?" he asked in a soft, whimpering voice. Even at his age, he understood that his parents were dead. The man scoffed, raising his gun to point at the boy.

"Yes. Your father has a big mouth, little boy. He was going to snitch on me. Are you going to snitch on me?" he asked, tipping his head to the side. The boy's eyes were drawn to the gun, understanding and fear spiking through him as he realized the implementation of the man's words.

"N-no…" he whimpered.

"Good. Because if you do, I will find you. And I will kill you," the man growled. The little boy sniffled, tears welling in his eyes. He nodded to show his understanding. "Now run, little boy. And never look back."

The boy rose to his feet, backing away from the man, before turning and running out of the house and down the street on shaky legs, his eyes brimming with tears.

Not once did he look back.

…

A/N: Sooooo… I'm evil. Hehe. I know it's short, but it's just set up for what's to come.