Disclaimer: I don't own HP. There! ;b
Notes: Hmm... I edited it some and once I edit chap 2 & 3 some they'll be up, too. Again, I am going to try to put my originals first, so the release of chap 4 is unknown. (Plus I've just got half a page done... ^_^;) But, I think I have more love for this story than "12 Labors". Well, shutting up...
I hope you enjoy...
The Death Eater's New Order
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Almost two months had passed since Voldemort came back with evil, mystic super powers and all. Times were dark. Yes, they were very dark. So dark, the British hospitals were over ran with people who had walked into cars, walls, doors, and pointy objects. Wait, that isn't right. I'll fix that later. It had also been at least sixty-eight years since this bundle of joyful evil was brought into the world. Oh, all the wonderful Muggle killings, sneaky plans on how to murder young Harry Potter, havoc and chaos in the Ministry, and all those beer drinking contests... If your brain was missing a few brain cells that was the good life. But when August 3rd rolled around, the best Death Eater holiday began. Lord Voldemort's birthday!
YES! Have you been a little, naughty Death Eater this year? If you have, you give Voldy-chan a bad present. If not, you were killed (This also applied if your present was 'nice'.) I almost became a Death Eater just to celebrate this fun and evil day. However, this year something nice happened. Something so wonderful it made evil bastards everywhere whine and pee in their pants. This wonderful event is the center of this fic. It is also the beginning of a long year. Not for Harry Potter. No, because Harry Potter should learn to share the stupid limelight. This long, very strange year belong to Hironobu-san.
Chapter 1 Sayonara, Noodle Shop! Leaving with a very scary man...He wore a Western hat a top of his rough black head of hair. A cap as the Brits and Americans may call it. Whatever it was called, the hat had been stained by decades of dirt, and shoved through many hardships. Just like the other clothes, he was dressed in. Was this small child an orphan?
The boy smiled at Warui and offered him a seat beside him on the beach. Warui relucently sat down on the warm, white sand. Where was he? His family's noodle shop stood nowhere near an ocean.
The Japanese teen shrugged deciding to go with the flow and turned his gaze to the gentle ocean. Only the sound her rhythmic waves filled his ears. No sea gulls. No wind. Just waves of the blue ocean. Warui noticed tiny slugs hiding in the sands of the beach from the crystalline waves. Carefully, he picked one up. The small gray slug squirmed himself inside his small white shell. Warui slowly tucked the slug back into the sand realizing it did not wish to be disturbed. He then grasped how beautiful it all was for the first time in while. All of it was perfect. All of it was pure. All of it was happy... "Amazing..." whispered the fourteen year old.
The orphan nodded in agreement. "The Artist did well painting this, and those who can't see it are blind." He paused, briefly. "Doesn't warui in Japanese mean bad?" the boy innocently asked while staring at Warui. He still wore that hopeful smile with glittering eyes.
Warui nodded then curled his knees close to his chest rest his head on them. "How did you know? Most Westerns only know the words for idiot and cute..." He turned to boy and returned his smile. "Kinda silly, isn't it?"
That child didn't chuckle at the Japanese boy's comment. Instead, he peered into the ocean's seemingly never-ending horizon, and smirked a smirk that sent shivers up Warui's spine. "Fits us well, doesn't it?" the orphan remarked as he began to write something in the sallow sand with his finger. That time, Warui didn't respond. Inside, he was becoming increasingly anxious by the second. "No need to be scared. Just a question..." The child finished his sand writing with one last stroke.
That's right courage! Just a dumb question. Warui was about to answer, really he was, but he found himself gawking in revulsion at what the boy wrote in the sand.
Korosu... Shi... Shitai...?!
"Who are Warui!"
"Warui! Warui!!" WHACK! A big red bump appeared on the boy's head. "Sleeping again?"
"What? Huh?" Slowly Warui glanced up and saw his grandpa staring him straight in the eye. Those brown eyes were always slits like a snake when Warui saw them. "I…I…" Warui's mind sped then he piped, "was washing dishes all night, Ojjisan (grandpa)..." The boy put on a puppy dogface to hopefully make it believable. The old man smirked. Warui had failed at lying. "Why do Niisan (big brother) and Rumiko not wash? Plus they get breaks, why don't I?" Grandpa Hironobu grinned then, once again, whacked Warui in the head with his staff.
"But, Warui, you're always sleeping."
Old man Hironobu marched out of the kitchen into the serving area of his little Japanese restaurant leaving his middle grandson muttering about his work.
Behind the counter was Rumiko, his youngest grandchild and master cook, with her head resting on her hands. Akira, his eldest at seventeen, stood thinking to himself. The whole week had been like this at Hironobu's Japanese Noodles n' Sushi. Empty, boring, and hot. The family's restaurant was in outskirts of the outskirts of London. Grandpa Hironobu thought in back April that it would be a perfect location since it was by a highway, but now he regretted. Only three customers and it was already early August.
"Ojiisan," Hironobu turned to Rumiko. "Can we go back to Japan?" Akira nodded in agreement.
"Hai (yes), Ojiisan," Akira agreed. "We barely have anyone that comes in. I hate England. These people must not like Japanese food."
"Hai, Hai!" chirped Warui from the washroom. With a dirty glare from the old man, the fourteen old boy squealed and went back to work. Hironobu sighed.
"All right if somebody doesn't come in tonight we'll leave for Japan as soon as..."
RING! Just then, a man ran in. This rushing man seemed to be a very short middle-aged man with balding hair. In his arms, he held on to another man, very pale and skinny.
"Help! Please, I need help!" cried the balding man.
"Akira! Take him to the back room!" Akira quickly rushed the unconscious, skinny man off. Hironobu approached the shaking man. "Sir, what happened?" he asked with a horrible British accent.
The man stuttered some then finally said something. "M-my name's P-peter." he started. Suddenly, he began insanely weeping and snatched a hold of the old man's apron. "P-please save him! I don't want them to find out!"
"Sir, calm down, please."
"They're gonna to kill me if they find out! Sav-" Hironobu smacked him in the head with his staff.
"When I say calm down, chill…" The grandpa rolled his eyes. "Rumiko, get some cold water." Hironobu asked in Japanese while setting Peter neatly on the birch floor.
"Hai!" replied the eleven-year-old girl as she rushed to the bathroom outside. Now, Warui was watching all this through the window in front him and thought this was his perfect chance to stop washing.
"Hey, Ojiisan!" he yelled. His grandpa flipped around and glared at him. "What do I do?"
"Either wash dishes or commit a painful suicide."
Ojiisan turned his attention to Rumiko who had just brought back the water. "Shimatta... (Darn)" muttered Warui to himself. The dirty dishes in the soapy sink seemed to laugh at his failure. The stupid dishes could snicker all they wanted for all the pouting fourteen year old could care. He'll just laugh when Akira drops and breaks one the birch floor... Wait a second! Of course, Akira! Akira was just as lazy as him! He could play Akira so he could get out of washing dishes! That's the plan of action! Alright! He better get going.
Glancing out washroom window, Warui noticed Ojiisan was paying him no mind, but was messing with the TV hanged over a table. Probably trying to find Japanese Idol... That thought for no reason sent a sweatdrop down Warui's head. Rumiko sat on the floor soaking a cloth for the balding man. Quietly and stealthily, he snuck toward the door outside. Creak... Creak... BOOM! Dumb, rotting floorboard! Now, he was so...
"Damn Americans," cursed Hironobu in Japanese. "Don't they know Great Britain is on their side?"
Rumiko gazed up at her grandpa, very baffled. "Ojiisan, what do you mean?"
"They're bombing Great Britain, child! This is WWII. They should be bombing Germany or Italy. Americans are complete morons, remember that."
"But, Ojiisan, WWII ended in 194..."
"Please go tell the lost air force where Germany is, Rumiko."
Warui's sister sighed and reluctantly marched outside to inform the American Air Force of their 'bad directions'.
...not busted. He sighed, relived, tugged his foot out of hole, and swiftly fast-walked to the wooden door. Open. Shut. Outside in the refreshing August night. Warui wouldn't mind staying outside a little longer, but Rumiko or Ojiisan would easily find him. The boy didn't want to be caught when he was so close to getting to the back room. He strolled along the short strip of green grass and carefully opened the back room door. Carefully, because he remembered, how he accidentally ripped it of the hinges last month. Grandpa Hironobu watched him fix it with an iron fist. That was not a good week...
The fourteen year old was now in the family's dimly lit bedroom: AKA the back room. It was a simple bedroom. The dull wooden floor creaked. Walls were covered in posters from Ranma 1/2, Akira, various Studio Ghibi films, and the occasional, censored hentai pictures. The aluminum roof sung with off-tune songs of the wind. Warui spotted them. The skinny man lay on a cot in the corner with Akira eying closely him. "Niisan (big bro)!"
"What?" asked a very surprised Akira while clinging on to the nearby wall.
"Do you need me to watch him? I'm really good at watching stuff." Warui, again, put on his puppy-dog routine hoping it would help. Akira pondered this as he let go of the wall and crashed onto the floor. His younger brother was usually not to be trusted especially with that stupid puppy-dog face... but he was missing Japanese Idol and watching an odd, skinny, old man was quite boring!
"Hai." he finally answered. Warui grinned at his lucky break. Now, he could have a nice nap without Grandpa's staff hitting him in the head! Can you feel his bliss? Akira ran out the door, then reentered adding, "Vote for Yukiko!"
Warui shooed him off saying he would and turned back to look at the man. He wore solid black robes. Robes... who wears robes anymore? And his face! What in the world?! It was twisted into some bizarre cross between human and snake. What an odd man he was! Then, that's when Warui noticed a stick poking out of the robes. Wondering what it was, he took it out of the pocket and began carelessly swishing it around. "Haha! Look at me! I'm a wizard!" happily joked the Japanese boy.
Right then, the white hand of the skinny man shot up and grabbed the wand. "No," said the man in an evil voice. "I am!"
Warui blinked a few times in confusion. "Iie. I am." He snatched the wand back from the skinny man. The skinny man also blinked his bright, red eyes a few times in confusion.
"No, I am little boy." He quickly snatched it back from Warui.
"No." GRAB!
"Damn you! It's mine, and I'm the wizard!" SNATCH!
"No!" SEIZE!
"I went to wizard school!" GRASP!
"I 'm a wizard, because I wash dishes!" STEAL!
"That's not a reason!!" RUNNING OUT OF WORDS TO USE!
Now by this time, Warui was very irritated. That stick thing was just about the coolest toy he ever seen before. He wanted, NO, needed to play with it just for a minute...
"DROP KICK!" he shouted like in a bad martial arts movie.
"Drop wha-" The skinny man suddenly screamed in pain. This was perfectly understandable since Warui did drop kick him in the chest. Wait, no... Correction! It was suppose to hit him in the chest, but the teen should have aimed up a little more... poor skinny man...
Warui stuck out his tongue in victory and snatched the stick back up. He actually won an argument! What a lucky day! First, he got out of dishes, and now this! In a cheerful manner, the Japanese boy pretended he was a wizard for about ten seconds. After this small amount of time, he became bored. Kids today with their short attention spans...
"Here, Jiisan (old man)." Warui put the wand back in the man's pocket. "Sorry, for being rude but you need to share, sometimes." The man said nothing. "Oi, you don't have to give me the silent treatment..." Some crickets chirped in the background. "Okay, maybe we started on the wrong foot!" The fourteen-year-old boy jabbed his hand out for the man to shake. "My name's Hironobu Warui!" The man didn't respond in any way. Warui, slightly irritated again, grabbed the man's hand and shook it. It was awfully cold... "Okay, now that we're friends, what's your name?" CrAcK... "Crack? That's an odd name..." The boy tried to shake his hand free from the skinny man's grip, but couldn't. "Oi, you can let go, noWHAT THE ^insert bad word of choice here^!" The man's white hand had broken off his wrist and was gripping Warui's hand! Oh my! Thank God, it didn't happen to me...
Disgusted and scared, Warui insanely tossed the pale hand at the man's corpse. Did he actually kill him with that drop kick? Well duh! The boy couldn't believe it. He murdered someone! Quickly, he dragged himself out the backroom door to escape the sight of the dead man.
Night air! It relieved him ever so slightly from the horrors that had just unfolded. Well... until the balding ran to him screaming. "Is my lord, all right?! Is he well?" Warui had no idea what this man was shouting about. He'd never really paid attention in English class back home in Japan...
"Nande?"
"Lord Voldemort! Is he okay?!"
"Nande?"
"The man in there." He pointed to the backroom. "Is he okay?!" Warui put on his best fake smile and nodded. The balding man, Peter, happily skipped in then rushed back out in terror. He slammed Warui against the wall of Hironobu's Japanese Noodles n' Sushi. "I THOUGHT YOU SAID HE WAS OKAY?!?!"
Warui chuckled, nervously, and answered, "Hai, hai..."
"Did you kill him..." His eyes were wild and wide yearning for an answer.
He was quite unsure about what Peter said, so he gave him another nod just for the heck of it all. The balding man's jaw dropped. "Oh my... what a problem..."
"Hai, hai."
"You have really screwed me over..." Peter shivered at the thought of what the other Death Eaters would do to him if they found out Lord Voldemort was dead. Then for once Peter calmed down, and thought about how to fix this problem. Very scary and out of character... It came to him! The perfect answer... "You realized who you killed was... umm..." How did those Japanese suffixs go? San is mister. Sama is lord. Yea that's right! "You killed Voldemort-sama." Peter did hand signs to try the get the point across.
Warui tilted his round head very confused. "Voldemort-sama??"
Ugh! Screw this! Peter quickly ran inside. "Can I kidnap your son for killing the evilest wizard in all of Great Britian?"
"Sure! Whatever..." mindlessly answered the old man. "Now leave, Japanese Idol is on!" Dashing back, Peter knocked out Warui with a simple spell, packed him in a potato sack, and headed toward Death Eater HQ in the west.
"Matte (wait up), Jiisan!" cried small Rumiko as she got up and chased after Peter.
Uh oh... Peter got busted for kidnapping. Ha ha! That dumb dope! He tried running faster, but with technology who is fit enough to run fast? Cute Rumiko tugged his robes.
"Here, Jiisan." she said handing him two small boxes wrapped in a pink cloth with some Japanese writing on it. "It's some of my special ramen. I thought you might need it since you're kidnapping my brother." How weird. She wasn't distressed or worried, but cheerful? Foreigners are freaky. Very freaky, indeed.
"Umm... what does the writing say little girl?" Peter asked curious, but scared by Rumiko's abnormal behavior. Maybe this boy was such a menace his family was happy he was being taken away.
"Oh, it says, VOTE YUKIKO. Ojiisan and Niichan are big fans of Japanese Idol." Peter took the ramen and stuffed them in the potato bag with Warui.
"Uh, what's Japanese Idol?"
"Oh, it's a show where people sing and try to become pop stars. Knowing the rest of the world, they'll pick it up. Of course, I think it's stupid, and I rather watch Miyazaki-sama's My Neighbor Totoro! I like the big cat-bus and Totoro and th-"
"Uh, look kid. I really need to leave. But thanks for the..." He paused trying to remember the word.
"Ramen." the girl helpfully added.
"Umm... yeah." Again, Peter began running west into the dark, clear night. Was he running as fast as he could, you ask? Of course. Kidnapping is against the law. Plus, Rumiko was totally creeping him out.
Eleven year old, Rumiko Hironobu, smiled, saluted the two, and shouted, "Sayonara, Onichan (cute way of saying big bro)!"