A/N: Edited for your re-reading pleasure. There have been a few semi-signifigant changes made this time around.

I don't own WHR. Don't sue. I'm broke.

HEART'S DESIRE

Chapter Four: Protection

A Witch Hunter Robin Fanfic

By Yuriko Tsukino

"Do we have company?" Nagira asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively as Amon shut the door to his room.

"Yes. And no, it's not the kind you think," Amon replied.

"Hm. Too bad. You really need to get laid, my friend."

Amon kept his expression neutral, though a vein twitched in his forehead. "For your information, I've been laid plenty of times."

"Yeah, but you and that Touko girl didn't exactly make passionate love, ya know? I've got the room right next to you, and I couldn't hear a thing! It really destroyed my hopes of Friday night entertainment."

Amon opened his mouth to object, then snapped it closed again. I can't believe I'm having this conversation, he thought, rubbing a temple.

"It's not that kind of company," Amon repeated. "I--"

"If it's not that kind of company, why is she in your bedroom?" Nagira gave him a look out of the corner of his eye. "Unless you switched to guys without telling me. Now that's a completely different kind of company!"

"Would you get your mind out of the gutter for five minutes?" Amon snapped, using all of his willpower to keep his tone even and not decapitate his half brother right then and there. "She's a student--"

"Ooo--this just keeps getting better and better!" Nagira said, staring at Amon with rapt attention. "So did she come willingly? I bet the whole legality thing really adds spice to your tryst, huh?"

Amon shot him a death glare, but chose to ignore the interruption. "As I said, she's a student. She was attacked at school by some other students. I brought her here to keep her safe." Nagira started to open his mouth, but Amon cut him off. "She will not be staying the night. I didn't touch her, nor do I have any intention of doing so. And she's in my room because obviously you wouldn't have the presence of mind to keep your hands off a fifteen year old!"

"Fifteen?" Nagira's interest was piqued, though now for an entirely different reason. "Is it that girl that was here yesterday? Robin?"

Amon hesitated, then nodded. "Some students shut her in a locker. She was there for probably two hours--if not more--before I found her."

"So why did you bring her here instead of taking her to the hospital? And you talked with your boss, right? I mean, he'll have to do something about that, won't he?"

Amon didn't answer. He knew that the only thing Zaizen would do would be arrange another attack on Robin. Amon's gut was telling him that that was what had happened this time; The football team and half the staff were in Zaizen's back pocket--And if he really thought about it--though he preferred not to--Amon could count himself among that number.

The silence stretched, and Nagira seemed to understand that all was not well on campus. Amon didn't let him comment, however.

"Leave her alone while she's here," he said. He went into the kitchen, and his brother followed. "I'm going to let her rest a little and then take her home." His brow furrowed as he remembered the way Robin had tried to avoid his questions.

"Fine," Nagira said. His voice was a little calmer now, and didn't hold the teasing

tone of five minutes ago.

Good. He understands that this is serious then, Amon thought.

00000

A few minutes later, Amon returned to his room with a glass of water for his patient, who had fallen into a peaceful sleep on his bed.

He closed the door quietly behind himself, and set the water on the night table. He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, trying not to wake her.

I won't let this happen again, he vowed. Never. He reached out, gently stroking Robin's hair, just as he had before. As he gazed down on her angelic face, Amon had to wonder just why she was the object of such ridicule and persecution. She was a good student and a nice girl--very friendly, in fact, once one got past the initial shyness. True, she was raised in a monastery, but religious affiliation didn't seem like a good enough reason. After all, there were some downright strange kids in that school, and Zaizen had never bothered to attack them, however indirectly. And it wasn't like she stood out in the quad publicly condemning people. She kept to herself at all times. In fact, Amon could only name one occasion when he had seen her speak to another student, and she hadn't been the one to initiate the conversation.

Amon forced his mind to slow down. There's no evidence that Zaizen ordered the attack, he reminded himself. Only your own personal feelings, which have never been that charitable towards him to begin with.

His hand paused it's stroking, instead opting to trail down Robin's cheek, resting at her chin.

She seemed so frail, yet she kept proving just how strong she was. But surely she had a breaking point.

Amon would be sure Zaizen, or anyone else, never found it.

Nothing was going hurt her, ever again.

00000

"This is the place?" Amon asked later that evening. He shifted the car into park and looked at the neat little home. It wasn't over large, but not small, either, and spoke of respectable, working class people. So what secret could this building possibly hide that Robin wanted so desperately to stay hidden?

"Yes." Her answer was simple and quiet, just as always. Amon longed for a time when he might get her to say more than was necessary, to open up, but he knew that was impossible, especially when he himself hardly spoke beyond what he had to.

Robin unbuckled her seat belt and reached for the door handle; Amon did likewise. "I'll walk you up," he said.

Robin's eyes widened slightly in fear. The change was small; almost unperceivable, but Amon noticed.

"No!" She sucked in a breath; that had come out more vehemently than she intended.

"Why?" Amon asked simply. "You told me yourself that there was no one home to take care of you. I just want to make sure that you get in safely."

"That's alright." Back to only a few, quiet words.

Amon swallowed a growl of frustration. "Why don't you want me to go with you?"

Thinking quickly, Robin replied with the first words that came to mind. "It's

inappropriate."

This time, Amon's eyes were the ones to widen. His jaw clenched, and he stifled a reply.

"Fine," he said, turning back to the road. He waited silently as Robin exited the car, but only pulled away once she had made it safely inside the gate.

That night as he lay in bed, trying to sleep, Amon couldn't help but think of the way his pillow smelled like Robin.

00000

The next morning, Amon wasn't particularly surprised when Robin walked into the classroom as though nothing had happened. As usual, she didn't meet the eyes of any of her classmates, merely found her seat quickly, and bent over her notebook.

On the outside, Amon was just as calm as usual; completely solemn through announcements, he moved smoothly into attendance and the lesson plan, hardly looking twice at his students and never straying from the subject at hand.

Inside, however, he was squirming horribly. He wanted to do something. His mind was a million miles away from the list of names in front of him (except for one, of course), and he couldn't care less about 19th century novelists. He wasn't concentrating on what he was saying at all; he'd given this same lesson every year for the past three years, and he was covering the same subject (albeit slower) in his normal English classes.

Instead, he was catching glimpses of Robin out of the corner of his eye every chance he got. He scanned the other students, looking for who could possibly have shut her in the locker. However, there weren't many Varsity players in Honors Literature; Most of them were lucky if they made it into eleventh grade English, period. Half of them misspelled their names on a regular basis.

Which was exactly why they were favorites of Zaizen. After all, and uneducated populace is an obedient one.

00000

Michael propped his chin in his hand and tapped aimlessly on his laptop. It was lunch time, and he was in the cafeteria with Yurika and Haruto. He was trying to finish a history report, but the babble of his friends was making it hard to concentrate. Doujima's laugh did nothing to stimulate thought.

"...I mean, I guess somebody found her eventually," Michael heard her say. "Otherwise she wouldn't be here. But isn't it a laugh?"

"Isn't what a laugh?" Michael asked. He had zoned out through the first half of the conversation.

"That Sena girl," Yurika replied, rolling her eyes. "Didn't you hear? The football team was talking about it this morning before class. Apparently someone paid them to shut her up in a locker."

"What?" Michael asked, all thoughts of history banished from his mind.

"Yeah. Great isn't it?"

Michael turned, spotting the girl in question sitting alone across the room, nose buried in a book. She didn't look any worse for wear, though she seemed to be hiding behind the paper-back. He noticed belatedly that she wasn't eating.

Haruto and Yurika went back to dissecting Robin with cruel words that were sharper than any scalpel.

Michael stopped listening, and looked back at Robin. Briefly, he remembered when he transferred into the school district in seventh grade. He was your average computer geek; not much for sports, more interested in the internal workings of a hard drive than sneaking porn off the internet at school. That first year had been extremely rough, until he had shown Haruto how to override the security controls on the school computers and they had formed a bond over digital Playboy images.

Looking at Robin, he couldn't help but think how much harder it must be for her.

The grating of Yurika's voice on his nerves had reached its peak. With out a second glance, he grabbed his laptop and bag, leaving behind Sakaki and Doujima.

Robin jumped when she noticed him standing by her table.

"Is it okay if I sit here?"

00000

Amon knocked quietly on the door of the counselors office. Zaizen's office was right next door, the door wide open as he verbally tore an unruly student limb from limb.

Miho Karasuma opened the door after barely a moment, and Amon pushed is way in without waiting for an offer.

"Nice to see you too," Karasuma said tersely. "I hope this is important. Zaizen's given me a list of eight students for behavior referral. I need to get started on them immediately."

"Is Robin Sena's name on the list?"

"Well, no-"

"Good. I need to see her file."

"What? You know I'm not supposed to-"

"I know. But I need to see it."

Karasuma knit her brows, but there was something in his tone; she couldn't deny him. Not when he was this serious. She moved hesitantly to the filing cabinet.

"What is this all about?"

"I can't tell you yet. Besides," he said, snatching the file away from her quickly, "If Zaizen catches me, I'd rather it be only me that got fired."

"What are you talking about?"

Amon sifted through the papers in the manila folder, finally selecting the ones he

needed and handing it back to the counselor. "I'll return these too you soon," he said. With that, he slipped out of the office, leaving a very confused Karasuma clutching the disarranged folder.

00000

Amon entered his classroom, shutting the door behind him. He wanted to lock it, but unfortunately none of the classrooms could be locked from the inside.

He spread the papers on his desk. Robin's behavior records, grades, and medical history were now an open book for him. Also there was a letter from the last Literature teacher recommending her to the exchange program. There was also the contact information from her old school, and information about her parents.

No, parent.

Father Juliano. A priest in an Italian monastery.

Amon scanned that sheet quickly, but the only thing of interest was that the priest seemed to have ties to an organization called STN. The initials tickled at the back of Amon's brain, but he couldn't place them.

Her grades were superior...and completely boring. No notations about her interests or outstanding achievements, other than the fact that she had achieved a 105 in her last literature class, and was in the top 3 at her school.

The surprises came with the last few sheets. She was listed as a behavior problem; her behavior record was six pages long.

Amon read this carefully. Apparently, the trouble had started in her eighth grade year. She was twelve. She was referred to a counselor for severe social anxiety. Notes indicated that she refused to speak or take part in class activities. Counseling sessions had continued until she entered high school, but the high school counselor had deemed she was "just a quiet, sweet girl" and decided there was no need for continued counseling after only one session.

Later that year, she was listed as being involved in a major fight. It had involved

three other girls; there were no details on the cause, but Robin had received an in school

suspension; the others weren't punished. Brief notes were included on the girls statements. Robin said she had been attacked and defended herself accordingly. One accused Robin of brandishing a lighter, but the weapon had never been found.

Two similar incidents happened her sophomore year. One fight took place in a chemistry lab; the mild burns of one attacker were attributed to a Bunsen burner knocked over during the brawl.

Following the third fight, Robin was thoroughly searched, as were her attackers, but whatever had caused the clothing of one to become severely scorched was never found.

During the first half of her junior year, another incident had occurred which had nearly prevented Robin from being considered for the exchange program. One of the boys involved in the fight was severely burned, and spent four months in the hospital recovering.

Three days after the fight, she had been recommended for the exchange program.

The bell rang then, and Amon realized something. The exchange program wasn't a reward Robin.

It was an exile.

00000

Robin staggered into the apartment that afternoon, her legs weak with hunger. She had walked all over after school, looking for a job, but no one was hiring. She didn't even have enough money for a bus pass to widen her search.

She dragged herself into the kitchen and searched the cabinets and refrigerator. All that was left was half a bottle of grape juice, two packets of cool-aide, a partial bag of flour, and a bottle of vinegar. There wasn't anything left in her wallet, either.

Robin yanked the bottle of juice from the fridge, pouring herself a glass. It made her feel hungrier, but at least it stopped the shaking in her fingers.

She looked around the trashed apartment. The back door was shattered; She had covered it with a few plastic garbage bags and some duct tape. One of the sofas was still upturned on the floor; she hadn't been able to move it on her own. Several dishes and been in broken bits on the floor when she had first come in; she had swept it up, but she was still finding pieces of ceramic and glass every once in a while.

Robin had no idea what had happened in this apartment. Her host family hadn't picked her up from the air port, or answered the phone, so she had taken a taxi to the address. She had found the main room of the apartment completely destroyed. It had taken her three days to clean it.

She still hadn't heard from them. Thankfully, there had been enough food in the cabinets to last a few weeks, and she had found a small stash of money in one of the bedrooms which supplemented the spending money she had brought from Italy, but now it was all gone.

The familiar lump of fear rose up in her throat. She gulped down the rest of her juice, hoping to wash it away, then retreated to the room she had claimed for herself.

The room was pink, and obviously belonged to a girl of about her age, but it had been so clean that it seemed uninhabited. From what she had heard from Father Juliano, the couple had had a daughter who disappeared a few months before Robin came to stay with them. They had decided to proceed with the exchange program anyways, however.

Robin sat down on the bed, drawing her knees up to her chest. This whole place felt haunted. Every minute she was in the apartment (without the company of a book) she was terrified. What if whoever had come for the family came back for her? For Robin was positive that they had been kidnapped. No one else may have realized they were gone, but judging by the way the living room had been when she first arrived, she knew there had been some kind of a fight. Perhaps it had been the same people that abducted the daughter.

The place gave her the creeps. For a while, she had considered calling the police, but didn't know what to tell them. When no one came around asking about the family, no superiors calling about missed days at work, Robin felt sure there was more to the situation than what she was seeing, but there was no other choice but to stay put and hope some answers surfaced.

Robin searched the room, looking for anything to distract her from her fear, and pulled a random book off a shelf. She opened it, and soon lost herself in the story.

00000

A few blocks away, a certain dark haired teacher had also lost himself in reading

material, though his reasons were much different.

He had looked through most of Robin's records at school, even though he had taken quite a chance by doing so. Nothing had been out of the ordinary, (except the obvious concerning her grades and behavior) but her medical records were something else entirely.

Every year, he was required to hand out medical forms to students, so that their parents could fill in any allergies or handicaps, and in the three years he had been teaching, they hadn't changed at all. The same three pages, one white, one pink, one yellow.

Robin's records were ten pages long.

Amon had immediately tossed aside the standard form. That would tell him nothing. The thing that caught his interest was a sheet of photos, scanned from a microscope. Pictures of Robin's DNA.

Most of the notation on the pages didn't mean much to him; he wasn't an expert in biology. One computer generated model did catch his eye though. It showed a close up of an X chromosome and a strand of DNA therein. Most of the compounds in the strand were labeled with A, G, C, or T, which was normal. However, there was definitely something abnormal about a strand of DNA that was half labeled in W's and X's.

What the hell does that mean? Amon thought, tapping his chin. Her DNA is made up of different compounds? It mutated some how? Confused, he flipped to the next page.

What he found there made him even more confused. It appeared to be a family tree, though why a school would keep track of a student's lineage was beyond him.

That wasn't even the interesting part, however. Each name on the list was color coded. At the bottom of the sheet was a key, listing each color as "Seed" "Under Surveillance" "Not Gifted" "In Custody" "Dangerous" or "Deceased." All of the names except two were coded with two colors; All except those two contained the color signifying "Deceased."

One of the names was that of Father Juliano; Robin's maternal grandfather. He was listed as a "Seed;" whatever that was. The other name was Robin's. Her name was yellow; "Under Surveillance."

Amon knit his brows. There was something wrong with this whole thing. It wasn't right to have all of this information on file. And what did this color coding mean? And the DNA models?

Worst of all, he had a feeling that "Under Surveillance" wasn't a good thing. And that he was the surveillance.

00000

A/N: ;;; I'm so sorry guys. I didn't realize there were that many errors in here. I really am no good at editing my own work. Especially without spell check. n.n;;;;;

Oh, and for those of you that didn't read Newtype USA preceding WHR US release, a seed is someone with latent witch power. Sakaki, Amon, and Doujima are all seeds, but Karasuma and Robin are witches (obviously). Michael is the only person in STN-J with non witch blood, aside from Kosaka and Hatori, but they're not really STN. For this fic, however, the only character that's a witch is Robin, and there are no seeds. More witches may show up later, though.