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Words count: 4689

Thank you LadyLiterary for beta'ing this mess!

"Cullen, isn't it?"

Renesmee automatically turned around, her eyes widened when she spotted the owner of the voice. Behind her stood a pale-skinned Japanese man wearing a regular black yukata, smirking at her. But that wasn't what made her frozen.

It was the blood-red eyes that were staring right into her own.

Chapter 6 – Playing The Hero

"Yes, Hermione, I really miss you too.."

The terrible quality of Hermione's voice was drown in the middle of various civilians chattering around him, covering her voice almost completely that all he could decipher was strangled words, as he tried to get past the tight crowd. When he finally managed to find a rather quiet place on the top of a motel near the west river bank, approximately twenty meters high—the Potion shop's owner suggested the highest place around to get more signal—Hermione's hoarse words finally transformed into a coherent speech, albeit a little unclear.

As he gazed at the beautiful clear sight of the vibrant town, he couldn't help but to regret not coming here with Renesmee in the first place.

"—ry, you're not listening, are you?"

Harry sighed as he slowly sat on the edge of the fence, his feet slowly swaying in the air. "I just found a high place. A civilian suggested it'll sound clearer."

"Oh. You know, I think I figured out why I couldn't call you before. You see, I just realized that we made the prototype to work by magic, so I figured it won't even turn on with no magical source. I could send texts because of your magic, but a human's magic isn't resourceful enough to attempt a phone call."

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense," Harry mumbled absent-mindedly as his eyes locked with the colorful lights in the sky, enjoying the night breeze again in her skin.

Then Hermione started to blabber about the lives Harry had left in Britain, telling him everything she could think of. Bill just found out about Fleur's pregnancy, who was beyond ecstatic, and planned to name the up-coming newborn Louis, or if a girl, Victoire. Charlie still hadn't found any girl that led suspicions that he was either secretly gay, asexual, or simply too busy with dragons. George planned to open a new branch of joke shop in French—which every Weasley knew that it was a well-thought plan to flirt with Fleur's cousin. Arthur was working on a secret project that he refused to tell everyone but his wife, who for once, supported his project.

Harry was quiet for awhile. "And Ginny?"

"She's been pretty busy lately.. She said she's preparing for a huge match."

"Really? What match?"

"You know I don't look into Quidditch, Harry," Hermione snorted. "Hey.. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry nodded, not really believing his own words. "I think I'll manage. By the way, I just bought a new owl. I'll send a few letters tomorrow. A Japanese one. Renesmee named him Shinji."

"Renesmee?"

Harry blinked a few times before stopped moving completely.

"I.. Well, it's—" Harry raked his brain to find an acceptable and logical reason for his actions in the past few weeks, his eyes moving frantically. "Listen, I was just—"

But the words died on his lips when his eyes spotted the oddly fast movement of the blue little light on the silver magical wristwatch strapped on his right hand. The muggle-looking wristwatch itself was one of his best equipment, given by the ministry themselves; one of their biggest project in invention department, where Hermione still considered moving into. He had non-verbally put a tracking charm on Renesmee when they arrived in Japan—a simple, standard precaution. There were only two kinds of light that the wristwatch was currently showing: the green one who was unmoving on the spot, and the blue one, who was moving in an insanely fast pace towards the north.

"Hey, I'll call you later, okay?" Harry said. Not even responding to Hermione's confused protests, he cut the connection off.

"Muffliato."

And then Harry leapt. He welcomed the feel of wind as he opened his arms widely, adrenaline jolted his body awake like electrocution, ignoring the bewildered gasps. Adrenaline had always worked well with Harry, in a sense that he himself could not understand. His eyes closed, as he focused himself, pushing his arms against his body, shooting downwards like a bullet. Then when his heartbeat increased significantly, his eyes snapped open, emerald blazing.

Then the familiar sensation came. The feeling of gravity pulling towards him was replaced with the sickening feeling of being pushed by every direction, before he finally appeared at a dark, quiet forest, where the fireworks seemed so far away, but still visible. The blue light was already one hundred meters or so ahead of him—Damn, Harry cursed. How the hell could she move so fast?

This was one of the times when he felt like an idiot to act so emotional. Why didn't he buy a broom? A bloody broom should help him get them in a minute!

Harry closed his eyes again, receiving the sensation he hated so much, as he appeared one kilometer ahead of the blue light. Ironically, he had arrived at a dead-end—a shore, eerily quiet with the sound of wave crashing. Therefore, after he made sure to put a Disillussionment charm on himself, he waited as he leaned against a tree, eyes staring the blue light approaching. Five, four, three, two, one..

And appeared out of the forest was white-faced Renesmee. Harry stood frozen in his place—she was alone. She was moving that fast alone. He had expected her to be moved or carried by an exceedingly fast creatures like Vampires, but she had proved him wrong. Harry started to feel stupid feeling like being punch in the gut, but he swallowed whatever that feeling was. All he wanted to do now was to find out—how he could be so stupid to be fooled, how long she had planned this, or how much of it was a lie.

Harry shook his head forcefully to watch the scene in front of him. Two pale creatures—undoubtedly Vampires—invaded, took the moment of her desperation to circle her.

What the bloody hell is she?

"You don't get it, do you? You may be one of a kind, but you're simply not strong enough!" The female Vampire said, her thin features and mean, twisted smile reminded Harry of Mrs. Black.

"Or fast enough," The male Vampire, probably her mate, licked his lips. "Imagine what they will reward us, dear Miyuki?"

"Oh, it will be grand, dear Hashi," The woman laughed a vile laugh. "But we won't do that. We'll avenge him ourselves, won't we? For our dear Toshiro?"

"Poor Toshiro," Hiashi's eyes flashed. "He deserved much more.. Our soft-hearted, coward of a brother. But no. We will take her to Volturi."

"We certainly will not," The woman's eyes flashed in the same, eerie way the other did. "We will avenge him ourselves! I will not let that satisfaction taken away by those arrogant fools!"

"Peace, Miyuki. This is our chance to bring back the Fuzename's glory. This is our chance to shine once more!"

At that point, Harry completely ignored what the Japanese Vampires were talking about. He had his eyes locked on Renesmee, who was slightly trembling in the middle of two—possibly ancient—Vampires bickering. She was trying to look brave, but Harry knew better. Yet Harry didn't move from his spot—he stared, like a still statue, at Renesmee who was slowly trying to move away from the distracted Vampires. Harry didn't know what kept him on the ground. Why didn't he just leave?

When Harry finally moved from his spot, he decided to find out himself. Why she lied, and the truth behind her every word. He would find it, decipher every meaning behind it, and learn the truth that she had covered quite professionally from him. He wanted to her to tell him. He wanted to know why.

He could ignore all of her lies now. He could play the hero—like he always did.

"You two are a bit creepy, aren't you?"

Three heads snapped up to where he was standing now, the Disillusionment charm deactivated. He ignored the baffled look on Renesmee's face, instead, focusing on the two dangers in front of him.

"A Wizard?" Hiashi said, sounding a bit amused.

"How did you get here?" Miyuki's voice, unlike Hiashi's, sounded harsh and hurried. "And why?"

"Let's just say that I'm feeling kind today," Harry smiled, pointing his wand at them. "I'm into playing heroes."

"Arrogant, ne?" Miyuki sneered. "Then you should be able to take us!"

Contrary to what the woman had just said, Hashi didn't move. He stood casually beside Renesmee, obviously shielding her. The woman sneered again before suddenly disappeared, and out of hunch, Harry cried out, "PROTEGO MAXIMA!"

Miyuki was shoved a few meters at Harry's right, and this time, her eyes weren't full of anger. It was of maniacal glee. "Paranoid one, ne?"

"Thank you."

"You know what our clan's proud of?" Miyuki smirked. "Speed. Our insane speed—even faster than other Vampires. Mortals like you stand no chance."

This time Harry didn't answer. With his barrier still strong, he tried to find the best way to kill them. Harry desperately wanted to cast a Fiendfyre, but Renesmee was in the way. Harry growled in frustration. Incendio would be too slow and timid. Fiendfyre—fierce and fast—was the kind of fire he needed, but the power was too overwhelming to control. It was either do nothing or destroy everything.

"Petrificus Totalus! Impedimenta! Protego! Rectumsempra!" Harry bellowed. "Protego! Reducto! Incendio! IMPEDIMENTA!"

"Wizards are such wimps, ne?" Miyuki maliciously teased as she danced around, looking unfazed by Harry's rapid attempts. "Makes me wonder just how weak those soldiers who died in Britain must've been."

Harry froze, his eyes wide.

"Oh, of course I know! " Miyuki winked. "I can see that scar of yours miles away, Savior. Ministry of Japan wouldn't shut up about it. I'm surprised that those Japanese wizards didn't notice you—perhaps it has something to do with you covering your scar? Such a modesty," She stared at him appreciatively, circling him. "Such a pity. You're quite attractive too. But dear, wizards' blood is the best."

The shrill laugh flowing out of the woman's lips made Harry's anger flared, boiling in his every vein.

"ACCIO FIREWORK!"

Bolts of colors shot through the sky, arriving in such a sudden move that Harry had a little time to disapparate to the other side of the shore. The maddening sound of explosion pounded harshly against his ears, even when he was already in a reasonably safe distance. His head still spinning, he stared at the puff of black smoke swirling to the center of the sky, the others nowhere to be found.

"It takes a lot more than a simple trick to kill me, boy."

And he was thrown in the air, his stomach hurled because of the impact with the woman's leg. Resting a hand on his stomach, he flipped in the air, right-timed to safely land with his feet, keeping the stance. Ignoring the taste of iron in his mouth, he kept his barrier back.

Harry smirked. "Your right hand."

"Don't get too cocky," Miyuki snapped. "I can attach it back."

"No, you can't," Harry retorted, not missing a beat. "80% of Magical Firework is flame. Look at your hand—you can't feel it anywhere, can you? Can't you see the ashes falling off your detached hand? It's gone for good."

Miyuki screamed—an inhuman, high-pitched scream that sent a chill down Harry's spine. Her eyes were burning in outrage, and she charged towards him blindly, her detached arm unmoving like a broken doll. Her attempt, to her absolute anger, was in vain, as Harry kept his barrier. Harry took his chance to glance at Renesmee who was thankfully still whole. To Harry's absolute surprise, she was putting a good fight against Hashi.

An appreciative, somehow proud, smile crept to his face, his eyes locked on Renesmee who seemed to be locking the Vampire's head with all her might.

"DON'T GET COCKY, YOU MORTAL!"

The barrier broke; Harry's eyes widened as he stared at the Vampire charging at him, as if in a slow motion, yet his body was unable to move. The next second, he was sent flying again. The shore seemed further away as he tried to breathe through his broken ribs, but before he even had the time for that, the woman appeared right before his eyes to deliver another devastating kick to his ribcage; he could see his own blood spat out of his mouth mid-air, before he dashed into salty water, so fast that he had no time to react to the coldness that suddenly warped him.

Bubbles of air flowed out of Harry's mouth as a strong hand gripped his neck, so tight that he couldn't feel his ears, all he could see was darkness spinning around his vision as his body started to lay limp..

Then brilliant, glowing emerald snapped opened.

Damn Volturi.

Damn them. Damn them all.

Renesmee half-cringed when she managed to evade the Vampire's blow, who looked almost as frustrated as she was. Hashi's vision was now controlled by Renesmee—but his other senses were controlled amazingly by himself. It didn't help much by that Renesmee had to touch him in order to blindfold him.

She growled, frustrated. It was the truth—she was not skilled at all. Being protected all her life made her feel safe, made her felt that there was nothing but drama and family. Perhaps an ordinary life was too much to ask, but shouldn't she be trained to fight? Shouldn't her parents educate her to defend herself? With such a useless talent, she was going through hell for her below-average speed and physical strength.

Her thoughts faltering, she wasn't ready for a series of violent punches that sent her to the air. Her teeth gritted together, her stomach hurt to the extent that she felt the taste of iron in her mouth—was it even possible?

In the back of her mind, she was amazed by Harry's dueling skills. Renesmee had to move really fast to evade the firework, an amazing feat even if Hashi wasn't hurt at all. He was another person in battlefield—gone the kind, understanding smile, replaced with focused power erupting from his seemingly feeble wand. He didn't even falter when he coughed blood—a lot of times.

And it was all her fault.

She couldn't erase the dread on her throat, the tears that fall from her eyes, both of pain and worry. Harry had been delivered a vicious kick that could murder in a single blow, only to fall down the ocean, followed by the evil woman. In the sea, he was done. All of his advantages were gone, and there was no other thing but death waiting for him down there. Renesmee couldn't move—the lump on her throat refused to be swallowed down, as her knees lost their power to stand.

It was pathetic. To need to be protected even in times like this.

Move. Please. Move.

"Oh, don't be so sad, little one," Hashi cooed, his smugness evident in his voice as his arms locked around her neck. "I'm not as vicious as my dearest sister. I'll leave you in the hands of authority, even though I'm not sure what will happen with your boyfriend. But knowing my sister, she'll probably mutilate him before she drinks him off—"

Move. Do something. Anything.

"—for my sister was the finest of the finest, not only a fighter, but also an artist. She would draw her blood in the name of art and Fuzename—"

"HARRY!"

The ocean exploded.

As if answering her call, a shadow shot from the dark blue sea, spinning towards the sky. The sight was illogical—the ocean rotated, swirled, following the patterns of the shadow as the blinding blue beam covered her visions, a somehow familiar, deafening sound of jet pounding on her ears. Then like a shooting star, the shadow, covered by a blazing blue fire, leapt to land on the sands.

Then the blue fire emitting from the shadow exsiccated, from the tips of his hands to the centre of his chest, moving obediently like servers to their masters. It was when the figure was recognizable—the dark, messy hair, the scar on his forehead, with a pair of emerald eyes glowing in the dark night.

But they were not what made Renesmee immobile. There was something she just couldn't explain—something that made her unable to react, her eyes wide with unreasonable fear. There was something that her breath caught in the back of her throat, a pressure so powerful that she could barely stand.

On his right hand, there was Misaki's head.

As she heard a strangled choke from her back, she took the moment to spin, locking her arms around him with his body still pressed against her back. She closed her eyes, before putting all her power to both of her hands, finishing the last opponent with a deafening crack.

Her knees abruptly lost their powers. She went still, breathing hard, still trying to contemplate what had just happened. Meanwhile, Harry lit a fire and burn the heads, and Renesmee could only watch the bewildered wide eyes staring right at her from the flame.

"You're okay?" His voice said, sounding a little bit distant.

She could only nod.

"Come on," Harry took her in his arms with a surprising ease. "We should find a place to sleep."

Renesmee nodded against his chest. She hated this feeling, whatever that feeling was. She felt so tired, so disgusting, so vile that her sole existence was a sin. The lifeless, bewildered eyes stared at her every time she closed her eyes, and she could only let the tears flowing out of her eyes helplessly.

Harry managed to book a room at a hotel despite the lateness, so they went straight to the room. The room looked comfy, with two single beds, a fireplace with a nice-looking sofa in front of it. There was a music playing in the background, which she didn't recognize.

Harry put her down on a sofa, somehow managing to get both of them a cup of hot chocolate for each of them. They sat there for a while, staring at the fire in front of them, the sound of woods cracking eased her.

"Wh—what was that?"

Harry seemed to understand what she was trying to ask, as his grip on the cup tightened until it trembled, setting Renesmee on alarm. "I don't know," He whispered, almost incoherently, his eyes turning empty and distant as if he wasn't there. "I don't know. I just can't, alright? I can't remember anything—"

"Harry, Harry, it's okay," Renesmee's hands moved to hold his face, soothing both his and her increasing fears. "It's okay.. Everything's gonna be okay.."

Harry's heavy breathing eased, getting to slower pace in the same motion as his steadily beating heart. She wasn't going to lie; she was entirely afraid, of what happened, of what had actually killed the woman down there.

But Harry shook his head. He removed her hands off his face, not harshly, but still stung all the same. She watched from the corner of her eyes as Harry tried to calm his temper, that both of them now knew, like a ticking bomb. His tight grip released, as he tried to move his fingers naturally, trying to cope with the situation.

"I'm sorry," Renesmee finally croaked out, her eyes half-closed. "For causing this. For lying."

Harry took a sip, his face indifferent. "What are you?"

"Half-Vampire, half-human," Renesmee's lips barely moved. "Conceived by my mother when she was still human."

Harry nodded. "Didn't know it could even happen."

"Yeah, no one else thought it was possible either."

"So you're not really a squib?"

"No."

"Was that your first?"

Renesmee finally found the courage to actually look at him. "My first what?"

"Kill," Harry answered and blood immediately drained off Renesmee's face. "Was that your first kill?"

Renesmee blinked back a few tears, chastising herself for being such a crybaby. Then her head nodded twice, small but evident. Harry seemed to expect this answer. "Well, I won't say it's right, but it's necessary."

Renesmee dumbly nodded again.

After a heavy silence that lasted for a minute, Harry eventually said, "I hate lies."

And she went still.

She should've anticipated the consequences. It should've been clear from the very start that it would end like this—because all of her lies were going to stab her back in the end.

"I hate being lied to. So much that it had greater impact on me than anything else."

"I'm sorry," Renesmee gasped, tears overflowing her eyes like river, standing up. "I-I'll go now. I won't bother you anymore. Thank you so much for—"

But his hand held hers tightly. "And how do you plan on going on? You don't have either passport or money."

"I'll find a way," She tried to smile, but it turned into a really ugly grimace, added by her red face and tears that felt salty on her tongue.

"Look," Harry pulled her hand to sit beside him again. "I hate being lied to. So much that I'm afraid of it. But I won't make the same mistake twice. I've let someone go, out of my bloody fears, and I still regret it until this very second. Back then, I have promised to myself, that I will never let someone I care for walk out of my life again."

Renesmee could only stare, wide-eyed, into the pair of green eyes that had warmth in them, his lips formed a kind smile that she did not deserve.

"Besides, you and I could be there for each other, right?" He grinned. "I need one hell of a singer as a friend to count on."

Harry pulled her into a tight, warm hug. He didn't complain about her tears wetting his shirt, or the annoying sobs she kept on choking. He didn't seem to notice her rapid heartbeat either. All he did was wrapping his arms around her, letting her breathe his scent that calmed her somehow.

When the faint scent of blood invaded her nose, she sat up. "Your ribs! Oh, god, how can I forget—"

"No, no, that's fine," Harry waved his hand. "It's nothing, really—"

"How can it be nothing?" Without consent, she pulled his yukata open, only to find a smooth, defined packs behind the robes. She desperately hoped she wasn't blushing right now. "There's—there's no blood. It's as if you weren't hurt.."

"I think it has something to do with the 'comes back alive' thing when we crashed weeks ago," Harry reluctantly said. "I don't know. I don't want to talk about this right now," He sat, and she automatically positioned herself beside him, as they both slurped the hot chocolate, a bit hesitantly, on Renesmee's part. "So why did you lie?"

His voice neither sound accusing, nor had any anger in it, but it still jabbed her all the same. "Because if I didn't, you wouldn't take me with you."

"Oh, I would," Harry shrugged, and Renesmee's eyes moved to stare at him in surprise. "I'm never the prejudiced type. My godson is half-human, half-werewolf, you know."

Renesmee's lips formed a small smile as she breathed, "You have a godson?"

"Yeah. Named him Teddy Lupin. He's a metamorphogus—a wizard who's born with shape-shifting talent. He can change into literally anything he wants," Harry gushed, looking proud. "Last time I saw him, his hair's green. The next time, I'm betting on blue."

"Why don't you bring him along?"

His face turned a bit lonely. "Well, he's still two, and I'm running around facing dangers. Beside, he's got his grandma taking care of him.. I just can't take Teddy away, not after what Andromeda had lost.."

And then they talked. Opening up the lock that kept their problems inside, letting it out that took a great deal of bravery, especially on Harry's part. She wasn't good at feelings, but Harry listened patiently, disagreeing with some of her harsh decisions. Yet his eyes were never judging. Never resentful, never disgusted at her childish endeavors.

Renesmee felt her teenager problems were nothing compared to the ones of a war-veteran's, but Harry denied that.

"Everyone is different. There's no greater grief—there's just feelings, and we all have tasted sadness on our own."

Renesmee just loved listening to him, hearing tales that were somewhat heart-breaking, humorous and amazing at the same time. He would speak, and she would listen. That was when she realized that he was a conqueror; a leader. Someone that had been through so much, lost too many things for the kind deeds he had done. Someone that could smile when remembering his dark past as if it was normal. And over all of it, he, somehow, managed to stay out of the darkness.

Someone to look up to, Renesmee smiled softly as she stared at the fire in front of him that didn't hate her anymore.

"You. Have. Failed?"

The sheer anger dripping in his voice caused the room's inhabitants to wince. The shabby-looking man, yet still managed to look quite handsome in his state of turmoil, had his ruby eyes looking frantically around the room. No one had missed the sight of the terrific death of an innocent Vampire girl. No one had dared to question him either.

"I GAVE YOU FOOLS ONE JOB AND YOU DIDN'T SUCCEED?"

"Please, my lord," One of the bystanders pleaded, swallowing his pride to kneel. "We assumed that the Japanese would be up to the task—"

"DON'T GET ALL ROYAL-FREAKS ON ME!" The man exploded, his eyes bulging out. "I AM NOT THE SAME WITH THOSE ARROGANT MONKEYS. I AM THE CONQUEROR. THE BETTER, THE GREATER. I AM HIGHER, THE HIGHEST OF BEINGS—"

"Sir," The woman from the back of the room intervened, knowing that their master had such a temper. "Please, you need to stay calm."

The man nodded repeatedly, already acknowledging this fact. He snapped his own neck to both directions with a loud crack, leaving the room silent as the others waited for him. His body jerked once, before his eyes rolled to both separate sides, as he bent his body inhumanly. Then he stood up, as if nothing had happened, and his underlings did exactly the same.

His fingers moved slowly, his eyes closed; an expression the others had known for too long. Then he snapped open his eyes, a smile forming on his lips. "Since the Japanese clan wasn't capable of the mission, then they are not worthy," Greed glinted in his eyes. "Take two of their heads to me. If possible, bring their chests."

"Y-yes, my lo—sir."

The man swiftly turned to his right. "Galene?"

"Yes, sir?"

A proud smile crept up to his face; a foreboding sign of a glorious plan. "Do you think the Egyptians would be up for this task?"

"Highly debatable, sir. But I knew some that we could use."

"Esther, contact the available ones. Tell them what we require."

"Yes, sir," A woman, dressed in the same way of the leader, gave him a thumbs-up as she continued her work.

After casual snarky comments on his underlings' incompetence, the leader almost cheerfully left the room, his white cloak moved silently as he walked in human pace. The woman he had considered a valuable side-kick for such a long time followed him, a pile of books in her hands, carried with unsurprising ease. "So what is the next plan, sir?"

"Ah, it's good to have those cowards on our backs, eh, Galene? I dare say we should take a special measure for the next one."

"And what special measure may that be, sir?"

"More army. The same kind."

"And how do you plan on doing that, sir?"

"You know," The man winked, almost flirtatiously. "The usual."

Remember Toshiro? The Japanese vampire the Volturi killed in a dark alley in Breaking Dawn Part 2, movie-verse only. Yeah, that's him! Hiashi looked the exactly the same with him, even though this isn't really important..

I think the evil villain in the last bit of the chapter is a bit too obvious, but does anyone know who he is? ;)

Kano13 - Since you don't allow PMs, this is the only way I can respond. Thank you! Let's hope I won't mess this story up!

By the way, if you have any questions, just ask. I'll answer my best! And any constructive criticism is most definitely welcomed, but a simple statement of what you thought of it would be great too. I also don't mind flames.

Love it, hate it, let me know. Review Please!