Smiling slightly, Harry grabbed his beloved gift. A pen from the desk flew into his hand as he opened the leather journal, and began to write.
For any who read this, I ask for you to keep an open mind and not condemn this story as a fairy tale, for what I am about to document has come to pass. If you are reading this, you may consider it a work of fiction, but the truth could not be farther.
My life has consisted of many different lives in different worlds, time periods, and perspectives than any would believe. I have lived and died 412 times that I can remember. There might be a few I have overlooked, but the problem is the same.
In my first life, I came into contact with three items that never should have been allowed on Earth, for no mortal would be able to wield them effectively. They were meant for beings of higher power than myself, and by coming into intimate contact with them, I unknowingly cursed myself until the end of life itself.
Souls are recycled constantly. It could take a few minutes to a year after one has died, but they eventually move on to become someone new, without any memories of their past selves. Sometimes you come across a individual who can access a limited number of their past selves' memories through heavy meditation and soul searching. Many of those experiences are shown in dreams that are often discounted for being unbelievable or figments of their imagination. I, unlike those select few, have never lost any of my memories. My past lives are vivid in my mind, and I doubt I would be able to forget them if I wanted to.
The problem with remembering is, humans were not meant to remember. It puts too strong a strain on their mind, and if I were a lesser or more complicated man I would have gone insane. Sadly, I have not come out of this unscathed.
I have heard that therapists say that if you write things down it will help. Being the stubborn fool I am, I am only doing this after I have been helped. I'm not sure why, but even if this will help someone who has no direction in their lives, then my trials have not gone to waste.
I am not omnipotent, nor am I a celestial being that has fallen to earth. I was simply lost, wandering without a purpose, but now I am home. This curse is a blessing in disguise, as I have come to learn. And through many failures, I have finally come to realize how precious this gift can be.
My first life was one full of hardship and war, but also acceptance and love. It is the one where I learned that there is no good or evil, and that you should not fear what hides in the shadows, because it is simply afraid the light would burn it. I am not going to tell you that life's story, because the weight I still bear from it is not so great that I need someone else to feel how very heavy what I started truly is. The summary of it was I screwed up. I did something that is irreversible, and yet I now see how lucky I am for it.
My friends died for me, my country betrayed me, my loved ones were captured, and in the end I died so they might go free. It is not something I am proud of doing, because if I were doing things right, they never would have been captured in the first place. I lost much that day, and even now I feel the stabbing pain of watching them cry as I died. They never should have had to see something that cruel, and even now I wonder if they ever recovered.
I was reborn as a third daughter of a duke in Europe during the 1500's. At first I just assumed the afterlife was as much hell as my life was, but then it turned into myself believing that my life as Harry Potter was a dream, until I saved my father's life by wishing he would live. My gift was still present, though my body couldn't handle it very well, leaving me incapacitated.
My father had me burned at the stake for witchcraft. And while the flames licked my legs I finally knew, no amount of convincing myself I was crazy would work. My soul's memories wasn't wiped.
And then it happened again, and again. No matter how many times I was reborn, my memories traveled with me. And on my forehead, the scar always stayed. I could go to bed at anytime as a child, and one day I would wake up with the same symbol that has haunted me since my beginning.
Somehow, I always ended up without parents, or killed before I was old enough to leave them. I have ended up in some form of abandonment or an orphanage a grand total of 316 times. Another 30 I was killed by my parents. The rest of the times was because of accidents that seemed to happen around me. I can't say I like it, but I am proud of myself for not taking my own life. Something tells me that if I did take my life, I would be screwing over someone else's plans. Somehow, I have a feeling that to do so would be the same as telling some god to fuck off. Not a good idea.
Besides, I don't want to forget. I don't want to forget all those that were my friends. I don't want to forget all that I have done. Most of all I don't want to forget the experiences and people I have met that have molded me into what I am today. It feels like that to forget them would be the same as dishonoring their memory. I have loved every last person that I have opened my heart to, and would like to think that by somehow remembering them, I give them love, no matter who they are in this life, no matter what they have done, I love them.
My 412th life started out just like any of the others. My mother and father were newlyweds that had a shotgun wedding because of little ol' me. We were fine for the first two years, and they tried their hardest to make things work. Unfortunately, my mother started having an affair with a man who worked at the grocery store. My father was an observant man, and found out fairly quickly, but didn't divorce her. Most likely for my benefit, but everyone could tell he was miserable.
Eventually my mother left both of us to marry the other guy, and in a fit of rage, me father started smashing everything made of glass. A shard cut my arm pretty deeply.
At the hospital he found out that our blood wasn't the same type, so he ordered a paternity test.
The results came back negative.
Three weeks later I found myself in an orphanage, stuffed into a room with ten other toddlers. I kind of expected it to end up like this, so it didn't come as a great shock. I stayed there until July 31st when I was seven, then I took to the streets. I was too old by then to be adopted, and even if I was, I'm too adult like for any family to properly care for. In the end I would have been sent right back to the orphanage.
The streets were harsh, but I had lived in much harsher conditions. A little lonely at times, but nothing I couldn't handle. My gift helped a lot during the winter when things got a little too much for me to handle, though I used it very sparingly so as not to be obvious. Japan wasn't an easy place to survive by yourself, but I managed fairly easily.
Things were simple back then. Wake up, find food, stay hidden, eat again if you can, then find shelter for the night. There were a few times when I had to fight in between, but nothing noteworthy. When I was nine I found an old abandoned shed in the woods, most likely a game warden storage facility that had been vacated when a new one was built. A bit of yard work and construction, and I had a livable home. The natural wildlife really helped when it came to the food department. That paired with the multitudes of berries and fruit that were edible helped my food crisis, but I was always careful to leave enough left over for the next season.
My life was routine like that, until the year I turned thirteen. Then things got interesting, and I gained a very unconventional family, in a very different way. It is here, where I figured out exactly how strange humans can be if in the right environment.
A boy was walking down the market place, looking over the venders' wares with a critical eye. It was hot outside, even as summer came to a close, and many of the locals were out trying to buy last minute school supplies. But he wasn't there for anything school related. No, he hadn't even gone to school in years. He was looking for seeds.
The black haired teenager weaved through the crowd, moving at a steady pace towards the produce stalls. There, he paid for a packet of grape seeds. Quickly, he walked away from the noisy mob of shoppers. He had what he came for.
Even though the streets were congested, taking side routes and alleys made his journey quicker. He didn't necessarily have anything pressing to do back at the shed, but being around so many people made him weary. He'd much rather stay in the forest with his little sanctuary than venture out into the civilized world, but there were a few necessities that were needed that he himself couldn't provide. Seeds were one of them since there weren't any wild grapes growing. Besides, berries just aren't the same.
He was briskly walking down the street in the direction of the forest when something unsettling caught his eye. A woman was cornered by two thugs in an alleyway. He was too far away to hear any of their words, but judging by the disgusted look on the woman's face it wasn't complimentary. She tried to walk around them, but the uglier of the two grabbed her arm, preventing her escape.
Now, normally Harry would have just let the thugs mug whomever they want, but even hundreds of years couldn't stop him from having morals. The thugs were just unlucky in the fact that a) It was a woman they were accosting, and b) said woman had two young children with her, and c) ...he just didn't like their ugly mugs.
He would admit that somewhere along the line he got fucked up in the head. He was far too impulsive not to be. But he still held himself to the belief that hurting women who don't know how to kick ass is wrong, and children shouldn't be involved in anything until they were eleven. For obvious reasons, the sight of those morals being violated made his impulsiveness come forward with a vengeance.
Smiling widely he talked his prey. The shadows seemed to hide his body fairly well, but his eyes stared out at his unsuspecting prey like a panthers, un-blinking and bright.
The thugs didn't seem to notice his advance towards them, and then he could hear what they were talking.
"...the boss. Come along with us pretty lady, I'm sure he would...love to make your acquaintance." Dumb thing 1 said with a false honey voice.
Dumb thing two was eyeing the children.
The green eyes narrowed.
"I really should hurry home, dinner takes so long to make you see."
"Now why did you have to go and say that. We would love to join you, I'm sure my fried here would love to take care of the brats while we're busy."
Then the children chose to speak.
"Leave Lambo-san's mama alone!"
Dumb thing 2 smiled creepily as he took as step forward.
"Now why would we do that, she's quite the pretty lady. Our boss would love to have a talk with her."
The other previously silent child came out from behind the lady's legs.
"No touch mama. I-pin not let you take mama."
Smiling at how cute the kids were, Harry stepped out of the shadows not five feet away and started walking leisurely towards them. Funny enough his smile was aimed at the thugs, and particularly bloodthirsty.
"You know the whole Alleyway cliche?" He said idly, gaining their attention. "I always thought I wouldn't find anyone stupid enough to actually do it in broad daylight when not a block away a sale the size of a small mob was going on. Looks like you showed me something new, thanks about that. Now, why don't we skip the whole pleasantries that come with some mysterious kid stopping your dastardly deeds and skip to the good part. Question is will you grow a brain and run, or stay and fight?"
Sure it was a bit lengthy, but the speech was used as stalling for time so he could figure out how to handle the situation.
Idiot numero uno turned and sneered at the stranger.
"What the hell are you spoutin' kid?"
Harry adopted a slightly incredulous expression.
"Why I thought it was obvious. I insulted your intelligence multiple times while calling this whole fiasco a waste of a perfectly good cliche."
Idiot 1 had a concealed knife strapped to his leg that was barely noticeable until he moved. Thing two didn't seem to hold anything of weaponry value, but there were numerous stray shrapnel in the alley that he might choose to pick up. Both were bulky muscle heads that were likely just hired for lower jobs. Neither seemed light on their feet either if their gait meant anything. All in all, ...decidedly boring.
"Damn brat. Oi, you deal with the kid, I got the bitch."
"You'd think I would have learned by now to not really be surprised anymore." Harry said mildly as he started walking towards #2. "But the idiocy and complete incompetence of some people really amaze me sometimes."
#2, apparently annoyed by his banter, charged with the full intention of knocking the small brunette out cold. Harry side stepped, but not without putting his foot out in front of the meat-head. The top-heavy brute fell flat on his face and skidded a few inches.
Harry ducked quickly as #1's fist flew by his head, kicking his leg out simultaneously and breaking the man's knee. Idiot uno howled in pain before being being overlooked. #2 stood up and turned towards Harry with a certain gleam in his eyes that could be interpreted as insanity and swung his fist out in a forward punch.
Harry once again ducked, but failed to see the other fist coming, which knocked him in the stomach hard enough to make him lose his breath. Grunting through the pain, Harry dropped kicked him, breaking his collar bone in the process.
"Now, why you're still awake. I don't know who your "boss" is nor do I care, but give the bastard a little message for me will ya? Back off of Nanimori. Anyone found harassing this lady again will find themselves in a permanent ward at the hospital, k?" Harry said in a sweet tone.
"Boss a'nt gonna li' tha'. Yak'za don' tak' good when some'ne say' no."
Harry tapped his chin thoughtfully.
"Yakuza huh? Hmm, ...still don't care. Nighty night."
Finished, he turned back to the others and calmly said, "There is a reason that local police officers tell others to stay on the main drag."
The woman was gawping a bit, so Harry took the knife of tweedle dee. Stainless steal, would make a good kitchen knife.
"Stranger-san saved Lambo-san's Mama. Lambo-san thanks Stranger-san for making the big meanies stop."
Small fingers tugging at his pant leg forced him to look down and see the small boy.
"...Stranger-san accepts your thanks Lambo-san." He said amused.
The afro child puffed his chest out importantly and gave a powerful nod.
It seemed the woman pulled herself together.
"Thank you sir."
Harry nodded and motioned towards the main drag.
"Welcome, but I wasn't kidding when I said the main roads are there for a reason. Going through a dark alleyway isn't very self conscious, and it was likely these days something like this would happen."
"Ara, but I've gone this way for years and nothing like this has ever happened. Is there a gang about?"
Harry sweat dropped.
"They were from the Yakuza ma'am. Think of them like a big gang that's even worse than all the others put together."
Obviously this lady isn't very street smart.
"Oh my! Then I must thank you more, Hero-san. Iemitsu always tells me to thank someone properly when they do something for you. Besides, I think he'd like you, the way you acted reminded me a lot of him when we were younger."
...Her husband acted like a panther?
"I see,...but no more thanks are necessary."
Lambo, who had previously been poking the comatose men suddenly perked up.
"Lambo-san Mama's cooking is the best! Lambo-san demands Stranger-san eats lunch with him."
"Oh what a great idea Lambo-chan!" The lady said animatedly, she had a sudden glint in her eye that made Harry uncomfortable. It was one of those 'you will do as i say or i'll kill you with kindness' looks that made even the gruffest of men cave. sadly, he was not immune. "I'm sure Tsu-kun would love to meet you. He might even bring his friends over."
Harry really, really, REALLY, didn't want to accept. This morning things seemed so simple. He had plans to get the damn seeds and get out before causing any attention to himself. Then he was going to retreat back to his little haven hidden in the trees to add to his orchard. How is he supposed to make wine if he can't plant the grapes while they are still in season?!
He was about to open his mouth to try and worm his way out of it, but suddenly his other leg dealt heavier.
"Master say not accepting thanks mean thinking saving not worth time. Were we not worth time?"
Harry's body froze as the double onslaut of big pouty eyes was aimed at him. What should he do? He didn't know these people. For all he knew they were just as insane as he was. Judging on how they acted that was not the case, but one could never be too careful. If he went, he would likely get a good home-cooked meal and conversation with other living lifeforms, (not counting the numerous squirrels and birds surrounding his home).
If he didn't go, he would offend them no doubt, and probably cause the two munchkins to cry.
It was when the salty water started to gather in the little boy's eyes that broke any form of resistance that he had.
He slumped slightly in defeat.
"Ok."
The kids high-fived each other in triumph, but he put a damper on their parade.
"But I want ALL of you to promise not to go into any dark alleys."
"I-pin promise Stranger-san." he little girl said happily.
"Lambo-san can go wherever Lambo-san wants."
Harry glared.
"But Lambo-san won't go into the dark streets."
Nana smiled and nodded when the young man looked at her.
"Now, we should get going if we want to be back in time. Ne Hero-san, what's your name."
"Harry." He said, taking some of the groceries from the woman. "And what's your name?"
"Sawada Nana,"
"Well Sawada-san, lead the way."
It was a short walk from where they were to get to the Sawada residence, less that five minutes actually. she must have been very lucky to get a house so close to the shopping district. The shops and stores fell away for suburbia cookie-cutter houses and watered front lawns. Harry's left eyebrow started twitching. Not because of the houses, but the complete order of everything. he lived in a forest where sometimes he would be forced to walk for hours, searching under every rock to find a lost object.
No likey organization.