This is an alternate version of Kyu, starting from a few years after his brother died and before he met Sai. He's 13 and it keeps going from there: how he learned to fight, etc. Basically, this is the colder, more aggressive Kyu.

I fell to the ground and held my face. I looked up at my father, who was holding a broken broom handle.

"What's happened to you, Kyuji?! You've become a failure!" he screamed at me. "What is with these grades you bring home?"

I trembled nervously. I was always the one the teacher called on from third grade on up. But ever since my brother Benji died, I've gone from straight A's to B's and a few C's. It wasn't bad, but in the Hito household, my father always expected perfection and if I didn't bring home all A's- he would be all over me. I got up.

"I'm sorry, Father..."

He backhanded me to the ground again.

"You've shamed me! Get out of my sight!"

I got up, running past him and out of the house. I just ran, without a destination. I wanted to be away from him. My mother did nothing. I think she was more afraid of him than anyone. Afraid that he'd hit her.

I was at the dock, punching out crates when three tall guys- all blond- stepped out from shadows and each wearing green American Eagle shirts and black weightlifting gloves.

"Now, it seems we have a trespasser," the one in the middle said. "We don't take kindly to trespassers."

And if you thought bringing a C home was bad, I forgot to mention that I've been suspended a lot for fighting at school. It was never my fault. It was always the other guy and his cronies that sit there and laugh at their boss' lame jokes who would come out of nowhere and piss me off, whether it be for no reason at all or I'm standing up for someone.

I've also been learning martial arts since I was 6 and I've already got black belts in judo, aikido, Brazilian jiu-jitsu, and I've got enough striking technique that can fell a world champion Thai kickboxer and a United States Marine in a hand-to-hand fight, thanks to my overbearing father.

"Fair warning: I'm not in the best of moods today." I said, my fists clenched at my sides.

The three idiots surrounded me and shoved me around a bit. I was also taught never to use my abilities on weaker adversaries. But when one of them punched me, that was it. When the second guy brought his foot down to stomp me, I grabbed it around the ankle and torqued his ankle into a direction the normal human leg should not be. I got up, taking off my shirt. The other two guys looked at me.

"Who is this kid?!"

I told them to bring it. They did. I jumped over one and planted both of my feet into the other guy's chest, knocking him back into a stack of wooden crates and taking him out of the fight. That left me and the leader, his green eyes glaring menacingly at me. I glared back at him as he pulled a baseball bat from off of his back. A weapon against an unarmed teenager? That's really fair. The leader swung his bat right at my head. I ducked. He swung again. Too slow. A roundhouse kick right into his ribcage.

"Ugh...damn it!"

I smiled.

"What's the matter? Big bad thug don't like being shown up by a punk kid like me?" I taunted.

"You're gonna regret that remark!"

The prep raised the bat high above his head. I aimed a high snap kick at his groin that made him drop the bat right into my hands. I swung the bat violently, smashing it into his ribs, his knees, his collarbones- anything I could hit. When I was done, the preppy guy was a bloody, broken mess but still conscious. The guy I knocked into the crates got up, with a knife in his hand.

"You'll pay for what you did to my friends! Prepare to die!"

I got my foot under the bat to hoist it into my hands and then launched it into his throat when he got close enough. I delivered a spinning back fist into his stomach, jumped into the air and hit him in the nose with my elbow. I rolled through when I came down. This thug was still standing, his knife in hand. I kicked the knife into the water. When the thug swung his fist, I caught it and forced him down by his arm and caught him in an arm bar. I cranked back.

"Mercy! Mercy, for God's sakes!"

I ignored the punk's cries as I continued to pull back on the arm. I could hear the muscles tearing, the elbow joint about to snap. When I was about to finish the job, I heard a loud gunshot...

I sat in a holding cell until it was opened. The officer looked at me.

"Kyuji Hito? Your father's here."

Oh, great. The old man would belt me good now. Which one of his poisons would he choose when we got home? Branding iron? Golf club? Shit, it didn't matter. I was gonna get my ass kicked now. The officer lead me to the front of the station where my parents were waiting for me. He took the cuffs off. My mother was looking at the floor. I looked up at my father, who was beyond angry. He gave me a look that said 'Wait until we're home.'

We were in the basement. I shrunk into a corner where my dad had a thick steel chain in his hands. I doubled over and clutched my ribs. God, it hurt. Dad came over. I made up my mind. He swung the chain, I let it wrap around my wrist. I pulled, he was reeled in like a fish and sent into a workbench. I threw the chain down.

"No more. I'm calling the police."

I ran up the stairs to the kitchen. I closed the basement door and locked it. My father rammed his shoulder against it.

"OPEN THIS DOOR NOW!"

I thought quickly as I pulled the kitchen table to barricade the door as I walked out of my house.