Welcome Home

A lonely mansion sits in a wasteland by itself. Empty houses line the street leading to the solemn building. The minute I expressed interest in buying the once empty lot, my bloody reputation influenced the neighbors to quietly move away in fear of unwanted visitors. I didn't mind though. The peace and quiet meant no one would bother us and we could hear challengers coming from far away. I designed the layout of the mansion myself, and everyone helped to build it.

When Yuki first saw the giant twin oak front doors, I chuckled at how his whole being lit up. He shone with an inner radiance I had never seen before. He was obviously amazed by the beautiful worksmanship evident in the realistic scales and coils of the twin dragons sprawled over each door. The head of each dragon was biting on the tail of the other, crossing them over the gap where the door should open. It looked like there was no way in from this entrance. However, there's a certain secret to this door.

I heard small snatches of gossip behind me as I led the way up to the door. I rapidly knocked twice on the door and all noise from behind conveniently stopped.

"What's for dinner?" asked a voice lazily from the other side of the thick doors.

"Squid," I replied seriously.

The moment I gave the password, the heads of the dragons went limp and they released the other's tail. I removed a few strands of golden hair from my face and waited for the dragons to curl up into a ball. This movement uncovered the gap between the doors and my henchmen on the other side pushed open the doors. A loud collective roar swelled up as the customary return greeting was given: "WELCOME BACK, BOSS!"

I nodded in acknowledgement at them, then turned to Yuki. Holding his hand up in the air with my own, I proclaimed to these men the same information as before. Yuki blushed from being stared at by so many eyes but managed to look up and smile shyly at the men while attempting to hide behind me.

After the introductions, the group in charge of the door locked it up again. Yuki stared at the giant locking mechanism on the back of the door in awe. Smiling to myself, I squeezed his hand tighly and held him a little closer to me for warmth. I stroked his hair, envious at how soft it was, and listened to the beating of his heart and th rhythm of his breathing. It seemed like his missing organs would not pose a great problem to his daily life, and I sighed in relief. I leaned over to whisper in the boy's ear.

"Welcome home, Yuki."

Snowfall

Another mission accomplished. That should hold back the yakuza community for another three months. Three months of peace. I hid my face under the umbrella I carried, silently looking around the crowded night time city streets I owned. I don’t legally own them, but the citizens pay me to protect them from neighboring gangs. In the underworld, it is widely known that this is my territory and I intend to keep it that way. I sighed and slowly turned around. Suddenly, something shiny in the corner of my eyes demanded my attention.

Beautiful silver hair reminiscent of my own gold, but softer; more natural; brighter, covering half of his face. One visible violet eye, unwavering, unyielding, sparked a forgotten memory lost deep in the locked recesses of my heart. A frail, delicate, naked body wrapped head to toe in loose dirty bandages, curled up in a ball like a kitten. The snow falling all around us landed directly on him, forming a silver crown in his hair and cloaking him in a white robe.

My beating heart would not calm down. I felt strangely hot in the cold winter weather. As I approached the beautiful boy, I instinctively held out my hand towards him, wanting to touch him, to feel the softness of his hair underneath my fingers, the warmth from his pale skin. Unexpectedly, he saw me coming, and in seeing me, opened his one eye wide. I hesitated, stopped walking, and withdrew my hand. From the moment I saw him all alone, abandoned on the side of the road, I knew that I had to protect him. However, I also didn't want to frighten him away.

“Young master, we’re going home,” reported one of my henchmen gruffly. I ignored him and gathered enough courage to continue walking towards the boy, entranced. “Y-young master?” inquired another underling in a squeaky, high pitched voice. As the members of my gang finally notice the person I have been staring at, they start murmuring and gossiping amongst themselves.

“Is the young master thinking of adopting that brat into the family?”

“No way, the young master has such elegant taste. There’s no way that dirty brat caught his eye!”

“It’s true that with his resources, we certainly could afford to keep the brat. However…”

“Who would have thought that emotionless monster could be so kindhearted?”

“Maybe he has something fun in mind, huhuhu.”

I ignored all of them and finally reached the freezing boy. At that moment, all whispering from my gang stopped and every man stayed silent, watching us, observing us. Holding the umbrella over the boy, I knelt down beside him and began to gently brush off the accumulated snow with my free hand. “What’s your name?” I asked softly. He stared at me uncertainly, paused in thought, and finally looked at the henchmen behind me nervously. I noticed his actions and quickly reassured him, “Don’t worry, I won’t let them hurt you.” Another bout of silence and quick suspicious glances ensued. I was about to give up and decide that he was mute when the boy hesitatingly opened his small mouth and stuttered through chattering teeth, “I-I d-don’t ha-have an n-name.” I was surprised. According to experience, even abandoned children had names they gave each other. But even more surprising was his voice. He had a voice like the pure ringing of wind chimes in a gentle warm breeze. A part of me felt guilty that I took note of his voice more than his answer.

Having finished brushing off the snow, I cleared a space next to him and sat down holding the umbrella between us. I turned my head away from him and gazed at the scene he was seeing. I couldn’t help feeling curious, wanting to see what he saw, wanting to feel what he felt, wanting to know more about him, wanting to get closer to him.

After a moment of silence, I continued my inquiry. “I see… Then, how old are you?” “I’m seventeen,” he replied obediently. Seventeen? He’s only four years younger than me. He’s older than he looks. “How about your family? Where are they?” The boy flinched and mumbled “They left me here. Said I was useless to them now.” I slanted my eyes and my body became rigid with painful memories. So this child was also abandoned? “Do you hate them?” I asked viciously. The boy seemed taken aback. He looked down quietly at his toes and answered, “I don’t know. I don’t think so. They were my family. I was taught that a child exists only to provide joy to its parents. My parents sold most of my organs in the black market for lots of money. They even..." The boy hesitated before continuing, "They even sold my body a few times. They could never get enough money. I was just happy that I was able to give them what they wanted, even if just a bit. Now that they’ve declared me useless, I feel like I’ve let them down. I don’t blame them for wanting to live life without me. I’m just a bother to everyone.” The boy tried hard to hold in the tears, but eventually he held his head in his hands and wept. Sobs swept through his undernourished body, making him shiver uncontrollably.

The sight of his tears brought my mind to a boiling maelstrom of bitter nostalgia and seething rage. I gripped the handle of the umbrella tightly, letting the whites of my knuckle bones show. The moment he finished his tragic tale, I made up my mind. I wanted to teach this innocent boy the joys of life. I wanted to teach him how to smile, how to laugh, how to have fun, as I did back then. I decided that I would protect this boy until the day I died. Dropping the umbrella, I suddenly held the boy tightly. My abrupt contact shocked the boy, but he didn't struggle. “Mister? What’s wrong?” he asked, tugging on the large sleeve of my kimono, genuinely concerned.

"I understand,” I declared suddenly in a soft voice in the boy's ear. “W-What?” he mumbled. I let the boy out of my iron grip, stood up and brushed the snow from my outer jacket. Slowly turning to him, I ask, “Are you lonely?” They boy looked confused. “I guess I am,” came the frightened answer. I knelt down and look deep into the boy's beautiful purple eyes while holding out my hand. “In that case, starting today, I will be your family. Today is your birthday. Your name will be…” I looked around at the frozen scenery and drew inspiration from the falling silvery snow, the same color as his hair, the same color as his pure soul. "…Yuki. "

The boy I named Yuki looked at me with an eye full of suspicion and doubt, trying to analyzing my intentions. However, he reacted to the solemn look of duty and compassion on my face and reluctantly put his small hand in mine. The moment our hands made contact, I felt a warmth spreading from between our fingers. A radiance seemed to shine around him as I grasped his hand and helped him up. My heart beat, faster and faster, as I controlled the urge to hold him once again. Instead, I held in my desires and let go of his hand.

I took off my warm jacket and put it around his frozen shoulders. Extending my hand once more, I asked him, “Can you walk?” Reluctantly, the confused boy took my hand, and I led him to where the other men were. In a voice full of authority, I declared to the members of my gang: “From today onwards, there will be a new member of our family. This is Yuki. You will treat him kindly, and with respect- as if he were my little brother.”

The boy gasped. “For you to go so far, I don’t…” he mumbled. I cut him off. “Everyone deserves a family. Everyone deserves a warm, safe place where they can stay with their loved ones. No one deserves to be thrown away. Do you understand?” The boy’s eye widened, but he nodded vigorously, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.

One of my henchmen picked up the umbrella I dropped and started the gossiping they were all so fond of. “That arrogant bastard. He thinks he can just do whatever he wants,” he whined. “Of course he can. He’s the leader,” returned another. “Whatchu gun do bout it?” asked a third.

I ignored them all and turned to the boy. He was shaking like a leaf and breathing heavily, his ribs pushing out against his pale skin. It seemed painful for him just to stand. Seeing him so weak and fragile made me understand the meaning of his words. He mentioned the removal of internal organs, but I only just now realized the extent of damage to his body.

Looking closer, I realized that the ribs I could see seemed to be fewer in number than normal. A large void formed a hollow shadow where his stomach should have been. The way his hair covered half of his face and the fact that he was careful to show only his left eye suggested the removal of his right eye. What other organs, tissues, and bones could this boy be missing as well? I hesitantly put my arms around him, wanting to comfort him. The frightened boy clung desperately onto me, soaking in my warmth with both body and soul. "Stay close to me," I warned him. The boy obediently clung to me with a scared expression permanently on his face. I shielded him from the hustle and bustle of the henchmen as we all walked home.

Introduction

In this world, there is no such thing as "justice". Humans are selfish creatures that care only about themselves. I am no exception. However, unlike the stupid animals that crawl around everywhere underneath the sun, I alone was given a certain advantage, literally burdened with a great weight from birth. From my scalp grows the purest gold in the form of hair. The longer my hair grows, the heavier my head feels. No doctor could explain this phenomenon. My parents abandoned me, calling me a freak, not understanding why they couldn't cut my hair without the scissors wearing out, not understanding why after five years their only son could only crawl on the ground.

Abandoned at the side of the road, my hair kept growing and my head kept getting heavier. I fell deeper and deeper into despair, doing whatever I could to survive. Competition with other abandoned, deformed, and homeless children was tough. One day, a year later, a member of the local yakuza tripped over me. After grumbling and cursing for a while, he found what he rightfully thought was a pile of gold in a dirty alley. Exclaiming in surprise, he immediately grabbed my hair and carted me along with it to the nearest gold shop, not noticing the meager extra weight of my flesh body underneath all the gold. Needless to say, the shop owner was surprised to find a naked starving boy underneath the gold he was to examine. This is how I learned that my hair was made of gold. After that incident, I was formally adopted by the yakuza that guy was part of.

The first "family" that took me in was full of kind people. It’s because of them that I’m able to stand up straight today. The martial arts they taught me gave me strength, and using my accumulated inner force, I was able to even run. For the first time, I felt like a normal child. I didn’t care that they took my precious hair as compensation for letting me stay. In fact, I was glad to be rid of it. The more gold they extracted from me, the lighter my head became, the faster I could run. Soon I was able to run faster than all the other boys, who admired me for my fast progress and respected my hard work in doing chores and practicing swordsmanship. They taught me what it was like to be able to laugh. They taught me how to have fun. They taught me how it felt to be alive. I naively smiled and thought: It would be great if we could stay like this forever. However, I soon learned that all good things must eventually come to an end.

My first real family was not careful enough in keeping my existence a secret. We were originally a small group, making just enough to survive, so soon others began to wonder: Where did we get the excess funds to expand territory and live life comfortably in just one year? Eventually, rival gangs wondered where we got our income. A spy was sent to infiltrate us from the gang next door. We didn't suspect a thing. We were too innocent and trusting; a show of weakness for members of the Japanese yakuza. The spy easily learned of my existence and leaked the information to their boss. After spending only one year with them, I saw my whole family being annihilated for the first time.

For fourteen long years, I have been sought after for my magical golden hair. Every time I was discovered, a huge fight would commence over rights for my hair. Many people died, either protecting me or because their allies were too greedy and killed them for bigger profits. Whole families and organizations were wiped out in the struggle over me. I was the bloody star of the underworld. Any family that tried to claim me was pressured by all the other clans and either abdicated rights or died protecting it.

One day, I finally grew tired of being a puppet. I gathered skilled men with similar goals of breaking free of the cycle, and together we fought for freedom. I became the head of that group, promising the men under me wealth, safety, and freedom. Sometimes the yakuza community would come to bother us, but with the superior skills of my hand picked men, they didn’t come to visit us often.
Still, all those years left a large psychological scar on my mind. I couldn’t see the human race as a good one. Faced with all its evils, I just couldn’t forgive them. I never trusted anyone fully, always watched my back. That is, until the day I met him.

Foreword

This story is a work of fiction. Any similarities to other works are purely coincidental. It is mainly about the lives of two men who live in a world full of corruption and try to find peace within the chaos around them. This story is not for children under 18 or those who do not approve of hardcore yaoi or porn or things of that sort. You have been warned.