I seriously need to can my deserted muses...And find new ones. But that would mean new stories that'll never be finished. First attempt at Weiβ Kreuz, okie-dokie?

Remember, I never can and never will own those bishies no matter how much I plead but still, it is fun to play with them. That's what being a fanfiction writer all is about.

–bright smile-

It's a half-baked idea-okay, more like ¼ baked of an idea but who's asking?

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Fearful

Prologue

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"Ah, otou-san!" Ken attempted to stop his drunken father from striking at his cowering mother on the slippery kitchen floor, "Stop it! You're hurting okaa-san!"

Dark thundering blue eyes swept over to Ken's face that was struggling to stop his fear from showing. "Oh, so you're protecting that wench now, Ken?" The stocky build of his father sloppily straighten himself as he readied to swing another punch at the brunette.

"Ken!"

"You wench!"

He found himself on the floor, with no apparent blows from the man, and saw his mother's form next to him, trembling to get up. "Okaa-san! Omi, get okaa-san to the living room!" Ken instructed.

The youth, who was stunned in fear standing by the kitchen door that connected to the living room, snapped out of his stupor and quickly complied. Kneeling down and whispering some comfort of words to his mom, Omi gingerly helped the limping woman to the next room.

Once he deemed that they were fine, Ken turned around only to find himself flying and knocking his head at the kitchen table's corner. Tentatively, the brunette touched where the pulsing injury was and found that he was bleeding. Great. If that wasn't enough, he felt a strong pair of hands lifting him up by the collars of his use-to-be fresh smelling white shirt that's now reeking of alcohol, and shook the brunette so hard it rattled his brains.

"O-otou-san!"

"Why do you even call me that! You're just a bastard! An illegitimate child! " With each word, he shook the dark-haired teenager violently, "From that whore!"

Ken clenched his fists, tightly shutting his eyes closed, repeating over and over like a mantra . . .

'He's drunk. He doesn't know what he's saying. He's drunk. He doesn't know what he's saying. He's drunk. He doesn't know what he's saying . . .'

The rattling-brain shaking ceased and Ken was dropped to the floor on his behind with his legs out stretched. Fearful that his father may go into the living room where Omi and his mother was, he peeked open an eye-his suspicions were confirmed. The brunet heard strings of curses, sobs, yelps and the breaking of things.

THUD!

"Omi!" His mother's voice shrieked.

Instantly jumping to his feet, Ken hurried to the living room, ignoring the ever-increasing throb of his wound, only to be confronted by the limp form in fetal position next to his feet, his mother whimpering from her hair being held tightly by his father, broken vase next to the scratched TV, fragments of broken glasses with the shards strewn about, and the overturned coffee table.

He kneeled down next to his younger brother and placed a hand on Omi's shoulder, slightly shaking the blonde. "Hey, Omi, you okay?"

The body stirred for a moment before slowly sitting up, clutching his right side that had crashed into the wall. "Dai-daijobu, oniisan," His breathing was faintly heavy as he scooted back to rest his head against the wall.

It appeared to Ken that all the yelps were done by the blonde boy, seeing that his clothing was drenched in water from the thrown vase and the glass full of beer. Adding to that was the bruise on his cherubic face, swollen and turning shades of purple. Ken grimaced and weakly smiled at the boy, ruffling his short honey blonde head. He was surprised that the boy hadn't received any cuts from the remnants of glasses that were scattered around but only obtained a bruise.

. . . Lucky.

Ken hurried over to aid his sobbing mother by somehow wrenching his father's grip free from the tangles of long chocolate hair. Her form slumped against the couch with both tear-streaked face and puffy red eyes. He huddled close to her, shielding her from future blows by the drunken man.

"Are you okay, okaa-san?" He whispered softly but before he could get any sort of response, he was yanked and hurled to the wall, crashing and shattering the family's heirloom body length mirror. He winced, feeling numerous stinging sensations running up and down his back several times and obviously knew the shards of mirrors were embedded into his back. Then the throbbing pain in his head suddenly pounded harder against his skull.

Ken could feel himself slipping in and out of consciousness, clarity of vision decreasing with each blink that he made; spotting a blur of blonde tackling what seems to be another blonde that was shielding a flaccid form of brunette . . .

. . . Then darkness.

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La la la, don't hurt me but Review okay? I'd say Read but then if you've reached here then that must mean you've Read it . . . right? Okays, see that Submit a Review button? Click it and Review! It's not gonna bite . . . okay, a little nibble but that's all! –smile-