Fear was a foreign sentiment to Daisuke.

Just what was it about the monosyllabic word that encased the heart with a furious clasp, seizing the victim in a silencing suffocation? To the Japanese boy's father, to be afraid was to be cowardly; it had been a commonplace commandment passed on to Daisuke ever since he was able to walk on his own two feet... but was it fear so terrifying that could paralyze [i]those[/i] feet? [b]"I can't do it,"[/b] he muttered from behind his knees, his arms hugging the shins of his legs as his calves pressed up against his chest.

[b]"It can't be true. It just can't be..."[/b] The rotating hologram of the boy, and his profile beside it, was still fresh in Daisuke's memory. There had been a search option that his father had ignored that mentioned his potential crimes, and the number of results amassed to over half a thousand with the first registry dating back six years before now. He might have been the only one to notice the stray information, but it was enough to place him in such a terrified state. He understood that potential only meant that it was a mere possibility, and it was not definite, but... over half a thousand?

And Daisuke had offered to be the boy's friend, too. [b]"Michael,"[/b] he spoke the name that the boy had used as an alias. [b]"But he doesn't have red eyes, or black hair..."[/b] When 'Michael' had approached them, he had blond hair and blue eyes. How was it possible that someone could change their hair and eye color like that, and then, others be unable to discern that it had been altered? The world's technology might have advanced greatly, but hair and eye color manipulation? It was unheard of.

A soft knock on the door shook Daisuke from his innermost thoughts, but he remained quiet. He had locked the door earlier, and when the knob refused to turn, her worried voice came. [b]"Honey?"[/b] No response. [b]"Are you okay?"[/b] He breathed as if he were laid down, in bed, and asleep, the moonlight glazing over his blanket from the window. After a few moments, footsteps down the hall indicated that Ottavio was gone.

[b]"Dad has to be lying... right?"[/b] Daisuke tried to convince himself that all of this was still a game. Maybe the entire thing about the Vongola Famiglia, and his status as the Lightning Guardian, was actually true. He couldn't believe it; [i]does this mean that I'm part of the mafia now?[/i]

[b]"Does this mean I have to get strong to protect people?"[/b]

[i]Or...[/i]

[b]"Does this mean I have to get strong to hurt people?"[/b]

---

People said that alcohol was not enough to wash away the pain, and for Hajime, it was a truth colder than the empty bottles of liquor that laid at his feet.

Hajime was normally not big on drinking, but it was because of tomorrow. There were many pictures sprawled all across the head of the table where the man sat, barely able to hold his head up as his left hand cradled his forehead, the other holding on to the neck of a half-finished bottle of vodka. He convulsed sporadically as he inhaled and exhaled heavily, the heavy scent of the alcohol in his breath as his hand picked one of the pictures out of seemingly random selection.

All of them were pictures of their former family. Frames of time, captured in happiness and smiles no longer native to him. Hajime raised the picture close to his eyes as they struggled to focus on the dancing image. [b]"Kenta..."[/b] he groaned, wheezing as he drew out the end of the name. It was a snapshot of his eldest son, who had been born nearly seventeen years ago and was only six, with his tongue out at the camera and his finger pulling down the skin underneath his eye for a funny face. With a bubbly face that was like an infant, his buzzcut-styled brown hair and hazel eyes only made Kenta more appealing to the other adults that saw him.

Hajime, taking a swig of the alcohol, swapped the picture for one that captured his other son, Daisuke, who had graced the family with his arrival two years after his older brother. The small body of the four-year old was facing away from the camera as his head had just turned to catch the snap of the photograph. The four-year old's melancholy eyes that had been looking directly at the camera seemed to stare back at him. Daisuke had always been the quieter one of the two, back then.

Throwing the picture back into the pile of many others, Hajime took a long gulp from the bottle as he reached for another, this time pulling one that included the entire family. His finger trailed along the image of his younger self from almost a decade in the past, grinning as he jokingly flexed with his two sons on his shoulders as his wife, Satomi, nestled against his body and looked up at what was going on atop of her, laughing at the silliness that was once their family. The six-year old Kenta, on his left shoulder, was digging through his hair like a monkey digging for fleas, while a four-year old Daisuke, who was on his right shoulder, had his mouth over Hajime's right thumb as if he were eating candy.

The photograph fell from Hajime's grip as his head fell into his arm, his drunken state unable to combat the emotions that he never allowed to show. His memory came back to the time, just before Satomi left their company to ensure that he and Daisuke would escape from Japan.

[i][b]"Little Daisuke must have a mother,"[/b][/i] Satomi had told him. [i][b]"Promise me this."[/b][/i]

[i][b]"I can't do it,"[/b][/i] Hajime remembered his last words to her. [i][b]"I won't break the vows I made to you. Why can't you stay?"[/b][/i]

And Hajime could remember the bittersweet smile that Satomi gave him before she would disappear forever. [i][b]"Please... You have to be the one,"[/b][/i] she stood above him. [i][b]"I love you, Hajime."[/b][/i] He couldn't even tell her that he loved her.

An unsuspecting pair of arms held Hajime in an embrace from behind as he began to sob uncontrollably. [b]"I'm sorry,"[/b] he croaked behind the tears. [b]"I'm so, so, sorry, Satomi,"[/b] he continued as he felt the head of another against the side of his face. He had always told himself that he would never break the vows that he had made to Satomi, during a time that he wished he could relive, over and over.
And now, Hajime had broken that vow.