Dare You to Care

by: Zemia

Disclaimer: Nobody in the Gravitation universe belongs to me. I claim no kinship whatsoever and sing Maki Murakami's praises. The only thing I'm getting out of writing these is sick sadistic pleasure out of making the character's lives even more difficult.

A/N: I THINK I can only put up the first couple of chapters of this, not sure yet. Have to re-read the rules in regards to rape and stuff. This story is newer than Ghost Monk or Nightmare Melodies, tho like those two, I've never shared it with more than two people before. It's … a lot darker. Well, we'll see.

Chapter 01 – Ward of the State

"Since your late brother, Yuki Kitazawa, had been your sole living relative... and he'd failed to name a guardian for you by the time of his death, you are now a ward of the state of New York. The Kitazawa Estate will be put into trust for you until your eighteenth birthday. At which time, it will be awarded to you." Judge Chandler flipped through the paperwork, before raising his head to study the boy in front of him.

Barely over twelve, Yoshiki Kitazawa's tussled ochre locks shielded the honey brown eyes as he stared at the table in front of him. There was nothing he could say. There was nobody to care about a single boy being tossed into the legal system.

Taking the silence to mean understanding and agreement, the judge continued with a sigh. "You are to be placed in foster care, to be watched over until you come of age. Mr. Reynolds here will see that you've arrived safely to the agency put in charge of your case."

Chandler almost made the offer that the boy could go to him when he needed it. But then, this case was just like every other, and he couldn't save ALL of them. So he did the best he could, sending them to homes where they could grow up decently. Domestic violence, neglect, child abuse in all its forms. He'd seen it all, and more, come through his courtroom. Kitazawa was no exception. "That will be all."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Turning towards Reynolds, the young boy murmured, "I'm ready. What will happen to my house?"

"It goes into the Estate. You'll be able to live there again in six years, if you want." Mr. Reynolds gathered his coat and briefcase, both looking very expensive. "Since there was no mortgage on it, it won't be sold off to reimburse anybody."

"I see. Thank you." Yoshiki murmured. "May I get something from home first?"

"Of course. We'll make sure that everything valuable is secure as well. I've acquired a safety deposit box for anything important to be put there. I'll be cosigner until you're legal, then it'll transfer over to your name only."

"Thank you again, Mr. Reynolds. You've been most kind." Yoshiki smiled up at the man, though he knew better than to trust him. To trust anyone. They always betrayed you. He got into the car, allowing the lawyer to drive him to his house.

------

"You're to report to the office in an hour, so you have thirty minutes to get what you want." Mr. Reynolds said, pulling up to the house. "I'll wait here."

Perfect. Yoshiki flashed him a brilliant smile. "Thank you." He got out of the car and let himself into the house. As he looked around, there was nothing that spoke of personal attachment to him. None of it would probably be around by the time he was granted custody of the house, but that was okay. He didn't want to remember he'd been a whore's brat and brother anyway.

Father had spent all extra cash on booze, and mother had had little of value, but there was one necklace among the junk. Something his grandfather had given her when she'd been little. Pure white gold, a small heart pendant, with another yellow gold heart in the middle. Wrapping it carefully into a cloth, he tucked it into a hidden spot under the cushion of his shoe.

Taking the rest of the knockoff jewelry and tucking it into an envelope, he kept a piece for himself to fight for if Reynolds gave him a hard time, which would indicate that everything was there. It was a tin heart, painted purple. He knew that he'd probably never see any of it again.

There were only a handful of pictures, and these he'd placed in another envelope in his pocket. Finally, he went into his own room, the small little thing that had previously been a walk-in closet. He gathered his clothes, which fit one small bag, and the only toy he'd had. A little stuffed mouse he'd named "Shiki" when he'd been small. Having been ignored most of his life, Yoshiki had learned too young how to fend for himself. He'd played with Shiki for hours at a time, caring for him as he'd never been. Pretending to be Shiki's mother, unconsciously wishing it for himself, he didn't yet know that he'd personified himself in the little tattered mouse.

Smiling at it, he clutched it to his chest, caring for Shiki as he'd always done. "Don't worry, Shiki. Everything will be alright." he whispered, tucking it into his pocket.

Going into his brother's room, Yoshiki found some papers and other things. Nothing of interest but a pair of sunglasses. Slipping them into his pocket as well, he recalled Yuki leaving for that last time. Yuki had patted his head, smiling that goofy smile he'd taken to wearing the past few months, saying "I'm off to tutor Eiri now. You be good, Yoshiki."

With a deep breath, Yoshiki turned and left the house, probably for the last time. He'd loved Yuki. Having had no real mother or father, though they'd been around, he'd latched onto any shred of kindness Yuki had shown him. But, like their parents, Yuki had abandoned him in the end as well, not having had even appointed a guardian for him in case something ever happened. Like when he'd gotten himself killed. Shot in the chest for trying to rape Eiri.

No. There had been no love in this house.

Mr. Reynolds, thankfully, granted the boy his need for silence, pulling onto the street and heading for the agency.

TBC