This chapter is mainly to introduce side characters that will be used later on in the story. The next chapter will start to get in depth on the main characters.

Chapter 1

He arrived late again, barely stumbling through the door and ripping off his shoes hastily. It was the sixth time in less than a month that the wiry male had just slipped through the doors of his ancient dojo and slithered onto the old, worn blue exercise mat to his correct spot and handed in his slip of paper, marking the day so his instructor knew he went. It wasn't really a surprise to the male, who had to juggle his part time job and homework into his busy schedule, that he was late. Luckily, the employees understood.

It was a relaxed sort of place, where people came to get a decent workout and be taught self defence in the quaint dojo that hadn't been bought by McFist Industries yet. The little place was old, anyone with eyes could see the rust on the corners and walls of the outside of the building, partly hidden by the ivy that acted like a living curtain. The once brightly cream colored building had turned a sludge grey over time, with cracks appearing on it from frozen piping that had desperately needed repairs, when a few winters ago the city was hit by a brutal snowstorm that easily iced everything.

Luckily, people from the dojo offered to help melt the liquid before too much damage was done to the walls and pipes. The same thing had happened for several years until the male had donated a rather alarming sum of money to the building to replace the pipes and help them hold up against the harsh weather. The cracks were still there, but none were all that new.

The inside of the building held up much better than the outside, though its walls were faded and the equipment old. It didn't really matter, though. The building itself was so small, having only one changing room and bathroom, and a tiny seven by four foot office for all three instructors who worked there. In the main room, students were all given their own cubbies, no matter the age, to put their shoes and backpacks away. The cubbies helped with keeping the chaotic waiting area slightly controlled.

Clinging to the scruffy outer walls of the training area were battered black boxes with their edges worn and white fuzz peeking out of the tangles of black string that had once held them together. The boxes held old Fairtex handheld kick and punching bags, with some of the straps worn, but not broken. The dojo, though well advanced in its years, had good employees who spent a ridiculous amount of time keeping the gear inside well maintained.

After a quick review of what the small pre-adult class was doing for the hour and a half, the teacher, who simply went by the name Mr. Kovar, dismissed them for exactly two minutes. During that time, the male went to his locker, which he had gotten for free after registering as a member, and neatly placed his shoes and socks inside. He paused, a dark wine red and black bag in his hand and closed his eyes, calming himself.

'It's alright...I made it in time...'

His eyes reopened, determined light glimmering in their sapphire depths. The male pulled out some of his own highly maintained gear and stuffed them into his blue belt before going back onto the worn training area, pausing only to bow deeply before walking to the starting point of the mat for his warm-up drills. Other students quickly joined him, not wanting to be left out, and soon the group was basically a black and white, with the occasional ruby red, mass of students. Personal boundaries were practically unheard of, after all, this was a martial arts dojo, physical contact was incredibly common.

"Alright, let's start with your warm-ups," stated Mr. Kovar. "Cunningham, you take over for a bit, I've got some work to do...new student."

The male, now identified as Cunningham, started running forward, before making a sharp turn to his left side, keeping sure that his feet only touched the blue part of the training mat, weaving expertly around the grey strips that painted the floor. Other students quickly started racing after the male once the instructor nodded his head.

Mr. Kovar was a stout, somewhat bald gentleman who looked much, much older than his true age and had glimmering sea-green eyes. He was wise beyond his years but appeared to, and acted like, he had next to none in the common sense department, but, unfortunately for others, he was incredibly shrewd. He had been practicing martial arts since he was a teen, after he was involved in a horrible injury that had appeared to have been the worst thing ever possible.

Even though the portly man didn't appear it, he had been a football star; a golden tackler. Mr. Kovar, in his prime as a football player, was a strong man who could often be found delivering flowers to his girlfriend or staying after school to help teachers in anyway possible. He was the popular kid on campus, but unlike the others, he wasn't arrogant. He was the straight A student who knew every single person in the entire school, and could successfully make each and everyone of them crack a smile, if not a laugh.

He was a gentle, compassionate man. Colleges lined up, one after the other to have him enroll in their school. Then there was the accident. Kovar suffered from a serious back injury that forced him into a full body cast and permanently paralyzed the upper part of his right leg. He had all but given up once he got the news. He pushed away his girlfriend and parents and shut down. All the offers to different colleges disappeared in a puff of smoke, as did his grades.

It was one night when he chanced upon a young child sitting idly on a bench in a park that Kovar frequently visited. The teen parked his wheelchair several feet away from the child. Neither spoke, both painfully aware of the other, yet not really wanting to move.

~Flashback~

The dank smell of the city wafted around the young adult as he pushed his wheelchair with his arms to the small public part where he would take his girl and they would relax, watching the children run around in the brightly painted red, green, and blue playground. A small drop of water hit his nose, and he paused slightly before continuing on to a bench.

He noticed a small pile of clothing on the bench, before realizing that they were being worn by a small child. Turning so that he and the bench were facing the same direction, he pulled the brakes on his mobile chair and stared at his lap, listening to the small frogs slowly start singing their song as the leapt through the dancing grass that was being spurred on the the cold wind. Leaves whispered on towering trees and relished the drizzle that was being spilled onto them by weeping cloudy, as dark as spilt ink.

The warm yellow light that slanted from a winking lamppost watched the two calmly, blinking carefully as it illuminated the tears that fell from above. The child couldn't have been more than five, but here he was, without a parent in a park. His sky blue gown was dirty, covered in mud that gripped to the material, clutching to red that looked too much like blood.

Kovar felt uneasy near the child. "Hey-"

The child snapped up, his pale bony body straight as a stick, eyes wide but dead. He looked malnourished and unhealthy, bones poking through his small, lithe figure.

"-kid...You alright…?"

The boy blinked owlishly, eyes scanning the man over, causing Kovar to feel as if he was looking right through him, seeing all of his fears, dreams, and thoughts. He gathered up all of the brightly colored colored objects that had been hidden by his body as he bent over them, and stuffed them into a plain black tote bag. It looked like a woman's purse. He jumped up from the bench, sunk in eyes never leaving the teen once as he stood on filthy mud brown socks that had once been white.

The leaves stopped their speeches. The light dared not blink, for fear of missing the show about to begin. The animals stopped singing, evidently sensing the tension in the air. Only the wind swept, laughing at the fear and worry. Laughing at the misery. Kovar wished he hadn't said anything as the skeleton with skin padded softly to him, his steps uneven.

"Are you?" his voice was high pitched and sounded gravelly, he sounded like he hadn't spoke in a long time.

Kovar froze, shell shocked. This...child...It was like a scene out of a horror movie. Sharp cheekbones poked out from his cheeks, his eyes hidden in his face, dark...a stony grey color. He was dead inside. His ghostly pale skin gripped his bones, as if it would slip off of the child if it loosened its grip. But this child...was asking about his health.

"Y-yeah…"

The boy nodded, the frown so deep on his face it was unnatural. "That's good."

"Why…" the boy lowered his eyes to his socks. "Why're you out here, kiddo?"

"I was in an accident."

"Car crash?"

The child didn't answer. He looked at the teary sky, the wet bench, his muddy socks, anywhere but at the man in front of him.

He repeated. "I was in an accident."

Kovar nodded. "I see."

Neither spoke. The leaves, assuming the talk was over, began to murmur again. The frogs called out again, and the light blinked again. Kovar started to feel as if it were time to leave the park and the child, before the boy opened his mouth, wanting to speak, before closing it again. He repeated the motion several times before swallowing and speaking.

"Why were you crying?"

...What?

The child looked at him, almost accusingly. "You were crying."

...What?

Kovar smiled, but the boy didn't buy it. Not at all.

"I got hurt. I was in an accident."

"Why are you alone?"

The child sat on the wet polished gray stone, deadened eyes glowing with something…

And Kovar caved. There, in the rain, with the singing frogs and winking lamp, with the inky rain and whispering leaves, he cried. He told this small skeleton with skin everything. The accident, his grades, his parents, his girlfriend, his future. Gone. All of it. And the child joined in on the other's crying.

"Why're you crying kid?"

"That's horrible!" he wailed.

"Well...I can't do anything about it…." Kovar forced a smile.

"But…" the boy stared at him. The glow from before was there, stronger than before. "Couldn't you talk with them?"

"What?"

This boy...this boy why appeared to have nothing...he appeared intelligent...but he was just a child. How could he give advice?! Look at him! Why did he care?! It didn't matter!...But...why...why was this boy...being so kind? It wasn't like there was anything he could give the child...no gain for the skeleton. Why was he being so kind?!

"They love you...right?" The skeleton slowly started to grin. "Tell them what you told me. They'll understand."

Kovar shook his head. "They won't!"

He couldn't believe this. This little kid was giving him advice?! Absurd. Ridiculous. This had to be a joke, and Kovar was done.

"Look, kid, go home to your mom."

That wasn't smart. Not at all.

"My mom's dead. I killed her."

Kovar froze, hand halfway to the slick brake. He shuddered, completely soaked through to the underwear he was wearing.

"You killed her…?"

The boy jumped up. Eyes teary. "It was an accident!"

This skeleton, who couldn't be older than five, wearing a baggy sky blue hospital gown covered with mud and blood, gripping a large black women's tote bag, shivered. "It was an just an accident."

And this was where Kovar started worrying. What if the boy was from some sort of mental hospital?! He must be insane! No one would be so kind to a loser like him! The boy was a murderer, and was insane. The boy sniffed.

"W-we were t-t-talking…" he blubbered. "I-I w-w-want her b-back!"

This boy was insane.

"And th-the car...h-hit us!"

'No...he isn't,' whispered the more rational part of his brain. 'He's like you...something happened, and that messed him up.'

"But it wasn't really your fault, now was it?"

The boy sniffed. "N-no…"

Kovar patted his lap. The boy stared, eyes huge. Then he climbed up the wheelchair like a little monkey and sat on the young adult's lap.

"I'll give you a ride home, okay kid?"

"Okay."

Neither spoke as the boy simply pointed to the other, guiding him. Neither really had anything to say… They mulled over their chat, the strange person who they seemed to know so well yet were so different. Several people stared at the soaking wet handicapped teen with the skeleton child. Most ignored them. No one tried to help.

When Kovar saw where he was taking the boy, he shook his head, surprised he hadn't made the connection before. It probably had to do with the fact there were so many things racing through his head. The boy was showing him the way to a hospital.

Once inside the sterilized, polished white environment, with nurses racing around with charts clutched in their pale hands, Kovar took the boy to the front office. The nurse took one look at the little child and raced around the bulky desk to the him, scooping him up and thanking the teen over and over.

The boy simply gazed around, seeming slightly embarrassed by the attention, and apologising for throwing a fit earlier. The nurse laughed and called to one of her friends, asking her to help the boy clean the scrapes that had been hidden by the gown but had successfully bled through. The first nurse gently placed the boy down, and whispered something in his ear. He grinned and started digging around in the large woman's purse.

The child stuffed something into the man's lap before racing off after the second nurse who had tears dancing in her eyes but a smile on her face. The item the boy had given him was a doll of sorts. It was incredibly well made and beautiful, with cleverly placed stitching to raise the overall quality of the item.

"Thank you."

He looked up. The nurse from the desk was gazing down at him kindly. He nodded.

"I've not seen him so happy before...He's usually hiding in his room with those dolls of his, drawing and playing."

Kovar grinned. The boy sounded so calm and sweet. He wondered what drove the child to run.

"Thank you," she stared straight at him.

"May I ask, what happened?"

The nurse mistook what he meant, thinking he was talking about why the boy was here in the first place instead of why he fled to the park.

"Well, I'm not allowed to go into too much detail about his or his mom's medical condition...but he was in a car crash. Another car hit them, the driver was drunk and he killed the two passengers he had with him," she glanced away. "From the police report and the current report from the investigation, that's basically all we know."

And he…

"...thinks he killed his mom because they were talking together moments before the crash," she finished his unspoken question.

Kovar shook his head and looked again at the item in his hand.

~End Flashback~

"Mr. Kovar!"

The man jumped. "Y-yes?"

"What do you want us to do next?"

He looked out into the sea of grinning, sweaty faces. "Grab a partner and start practicing your reflexes."

The mixed group of teens nodded and went about picking their friends, all the while chattering excitedly. It was a positive group, a mixed class of girls and boys, honor students and band players, nerds and geeks, gamers and jocks. A group where all the different classes and ages that had stopped them from interacting at their schools didn't exist here.

Mr. Kovar felt a slight tug on his shirt sleeve and turned to see a young redheaded teenager stare up at him. "I am here for a tryout class."

He had a noticeable japanese accent, but his english was flawless. The teen looked to be about sixteen, maybe a little older, and he was dressed in the required all black uniform. He had sharp mahogany eyes, and matured features to him, an air of wealth surrounded the male.

"Of course...right this way...uh…"

"Nomicon Norisu. You may call me Nomi," he was calm, polite, well mannered. It wasn't what was usually expected.

Most of the teenage students were nice, but no where near as formal as Nomi Norisu. The dojo itself was laidback, and among other dojos, was known as a joke for their 'hawaiian-like behavior.' New students were always welcome, and were treated with respect from both the adults and their peers, with the same expected in return.

Mr. Kovar grinned radiantly. "Do you want me to explain how this place works?"

The redhead shook his head, causing his bangs to fall back into his face. "I already know what to do here, sir. I've been to other karate dojos before."

The head instructor simply shook his head before ruffling Nomi's shaggy hair, the grin never faltering. "You've been at a dojo before?"

"Yes, and before I forget, sir, there's something I need to speak with you about."

A pause.

"In private, sir."

A longer pause.

"Alrighty, kiddo, let's go to my office."

A snort was heard from another instructor who was watching the students race around the training area. Mr. Kovar joined in with her laughter.

Nomi followed the large man to the mini shared office in the back of the dojo. The door closed lightly and the stout man made himself at home on a worn black office chair. The room also showed signs of aging, but it wasn't dirty, with a old, bulky computer resting on an antique dark wooden desk. There was a stripe of black electrical tape across the floor and on the far side of the room there was a long mirror spanning the length of the whole wall. A second desk was pushed against the one with the old-fashioned computer, and with it came a slightly newer chair that had a dent in the top left corner.

Nomi perched upon the edge of the dented chair and watched the instructor with narrowed eyes. Mr. Kovar seemed to not notice, as he sat, smiling pleasantly at the young man who appeared to be trying to drill holes into the older man's head. Neither spoke for a time, simply waiting for something to happen.

There was a rather long silence, filled only with the near silent ticks of a wall clock.

Mr. Kovar continued to sink into his office chair, still with his eerily calm smile stretched across his face.

Nomi inhaled silently, mouth beginning to open as he was about to speak.

Suddenly, the door swung open with a bang, startling the stout man right out of his chair and causing the redhead to whip around, one hand in his karate gi. Cunningham, his face flushed with sweat, peered through the door at the two. Upon seeing their shocked looks, he cracked a grin, lighting up his deep blue eyes even more.

"Sorry 'bout that," he spoke breathlessly. "Didn't mean to scare ya."

"No worries," said the instructor easily, having already recovered from the startling event and was again comfortably wedged in between the armrests on the old chair. "What do you need, make it quick."

"Miss Kaiko took us through all of the drills. She wants to know what you want us to do next."

"Of course she did."

Cunningham snorted.

Nomi was watching the whole affair through constricted mahogany eyes. The two acted easily around one another, trading mocking blows laced in with requests and orders, grins painting their face. This dojo was unusual, it wasn't what he had been expecting. The redhead had hoped that this place would be strict...it wasn't. Oh dear…

"-alright. This is gonna be so Bruce!" He heard the door slam again as the purple-haired male raced back to his sweaty class, beaming from ear to ear.

Mr Kovar chuckled and focused his attention back onto Nomi. "As you were saying, kiddo?"

Nomi didn't share his smile.

Randy frowned. It wasn't uncommon for the dojo to get new students...but most of them were simply shy. Nomi wasn't. He wasn't anything. He followed instructions to a T, and his sparring partners didn't stand a chance. His reflexes were absurd, he switched and whirled, punched and kicked so easily, as if he had been born for the simple purpose of defending attacks while throwing his own punches. It was obvious he had history in martial arts, and most people in the class were unsure of how to deal with such a vicious and unusual fighting style.

The cyan eyed male watched the other, beginning to start staring out into space, only to be punched heavily, arms instinctively shooting up to block the blow and taking the brute end of the blow.

"What?! That was so not cool, dude!"

"You need to pay attention," joked one of the students who was sparring not six feet away. He, in turn, was whacked by his own partner, an amused look on their face.

Randy grumbled good naturedly and resumed the fighting stance, legs bent, eyes focused, head clear. They circled, watching the other carefully, all noise from other groups faded and, suddenly, the other's hand twitched. Randy lunged forward, blocking the cross and jab thrown at him and landing his own hit, lightly, of course. The two continued the go back and forth, using any advantage the other gave, deftly dodging and lunging forward.

It went on like that for several minutes until a gong was heard, resounding throughout the dojo and causing the teens to break any concentration that they currently had. The group raced over to a mat and practically dove into the ground, sitting with their feet neatly tucked under their bottoms.

"Good job today, everyone!" Mr. Kovar was grinning like crazy. "And, as you all know, we have a new student. Nomi, kiddo, would you come up here?"

As the redhead stood and approached the large man, a startling amount of clapping erupted from Cunningham, quickly joined by the others until everyone was letting out excited cheers. Nomi felt slightly embarrassed at the attention and quickly went up to receive his white belt. Another round of clapping went around the room as the kids started to get up, bowing first to their teacher and then again once they reached the end of the mat.

Mr. Kovar placed a hand on Nomi's shoulder, stopping the teen from leaving. "If you want, you can take several of the tests to move up in rank at once. It's obvious that most of the people here can't match your skill level. If you do decide to take the tests, you would be put in the advanced class on Wednesdays and Saturdays, as well as the basic workout class on Sundays and Tuesdays. If you want, you can drop the basic workout class and only be in the advanced class...if you decide to stay with us, of course."

Nomi paused, thinking. He still wasn't sure if he really wanted to stay. Even though the kids there were kind, they weren't exactly...tough. There were only two or three other students that were blue belts in the current class, but he hadn't the chance to face them. It was a disappointment, as his grandfather had warned, but he learned the hard way that the elderly man was most likely right. If he decided to take the advanced class, he hoped they would put up a slightly decent fight.

Upon seeing the teen's indecisiveness, the balding instructor laughed heavily. "Not to worry. You can think things over and discuss with your family before coming back or calling to tell us whether or not you're continuing."

He nodded and slowly started to walk away, stopping at a chair several feet away and began gathering up his workout bag, glancing back to the stout man as a formality, and noticing the teen...Cunningham...was speaking with the other quickly. Nomi glanced around, not one to eavesdrop, seeing how it was rude, but he was rather curious as to why the sixteen-year-old looked so stressed. In such a relaxed environment, those two were looking like the world was just about ready to end.

"-here, I'm sorry I'm late again. I pulled extra shifts to pay for these classes," the teen held up three of his attendance cards, each documenting how often the teen came in every month, all having his barely legible handwriting on them.

Mr. Kovar looked around, failing to notice Nomi, who looked as if he was simply double checking all of his belongings in his bag. "After all you've done, with all the money and charity, you don't need to-"

"But I can't mooch off of you like this anymore!" Cunningham's whispers turned slightly hysterical, but remained quiet enough that other parents and students from the next, and previous, classes didn't notice.

"Mooch?" the portly man echoed, snatching the slips from the teen. "What are you talking about?"

Both students watched in shock as the man tore up the slips. "There."

Cunningham looked dismayed, he looked up at the instructor with gratitude and shame. "I'll try to come in more to help-"

"No need," the man waved his attempt away. "Nomi will come in more and give you a hand, isn't that right?"

In the split second it took the mahogany-eyed male to realized he was being called upon, he was caught, the instructor was a more shrewd man than the male originally thought. How very interesting.

"Yes," with that, he zipped up his bag and walked out the door, thanking the teachers at the help desk on his way out.

Randy watched the redhead leave. "I've gotta get going if I'm gonna make it home in time for dinner."

"You run along, kiddo. I'll see you on Tuesday."

"Sayonara."

Randy raced out the door, spinning around only to bow before skidding outside. He noticed Nomi waiting for his car to pull up and ran to him.

"Welcome to the group! See you!" he said, shaking Nomi's hand quickly and patting his shoulder before running off down the road.

Nomi was surprised at the taller male's boldness. He shook his head.

"Your friend?"

Not really.

"Maybe."

A chuckle. "We'd better get moving if we want to beat the dinner crowd."

Nomicon Norisu nodded. He turned and followed the well dressed man to an expensive car, getting into the back and lazily sprawling out along the leather padded seat. What an interesting little dojo. He would probably attend. And if those two did end up being in the advanced class...he would have no choice. They had to be dealt with. It had to be done. To stop everything...This whole nightmare had to come to an end.

Mr. Kovar will be an important character, that's why I've given him a backstory. I promise the next chapter will be more about the main characters! Reviews please!