Chapter 1

Zane didn't want to go home. He'd rather stay in school and sleep until he was sure his alcoholic father would either be sleeping or out drinking. No one would bother him here anyway; they were too scared of him. He had electric blue eyes that saw right through you when he looked at you, and his hair was black with silver streaks. It was unusual, and seemed to be what made him a target for bullies and anyone else who had free time to pick on him.

When he was in kindergarten, a bully had started teasing him about it and he'd punched him. It was a good punch too, and when the teacher started to scold him, he just glared at her until she'd finished ranting, after which he'd told her to shut up, leaving her stunned into silence. Years of being abused by his parent and listening to him and his drinking buddies had given Zane a bad temperament. He lost his temper easily and wasn't afraid to tell the teachers or even officials, to back off or go to hell. That's just how he was.

As he got older, groups of kids would try to beat him, but what happened was just the opposite. Eventually, even gangs started to try to get the jump on him. He lost now and then, but with time, his experience and street fighting skills improved. He learned every trick in the book and made a few of his own. It became so some of the gangs were trying to recruit him, others made it a point that to move up in rank or get more share of any cash they stole, you'd have to defeat him. Seemingly devoid of any emotion he earned the nickname, Dark Void. All in all, he was a delinquent.

The final bell signaling school was over rang, and the rest of the students hurried out, chatting about weekend activities. Zane was still sleeping when the teacher was getting ready to leave.

"Zane, I have to lock the room now. Why don't you head home?" he asked, pausing in the doorway. Zane looked up sleepily

"How 'bout you leave and I'll lock the door when I leave," he said nonchalantly.

Mr. Anders cleared his throat nervously, "Zane, you know the teachers are the ones who have to lock their rooms, unless the student is finishing up an assignment. I can't just let you lock it if you're going to sleep."

Zane slowly got to his feet.

"I don't know why you bother. The school doors don't close until five-thirty anyway."

He passed Mr. Anders as he walked out the door into the empty hallway. The soles of his shoes squeaked a little on the tile floor. A glass case along his right displayed awards and medals, the walls were adorned with pictures of graduated students and posters of the upcoming festival. He went out back behind the school and stood in front of the dojo club's doors. When the Kagamis moved in from Japan, the empty storage building at the back of the school had been converted into a Japanese dojo. Zane and Yukito Kagami, the only son, had quickly become best friends. Yukito's dad was the dojo's instructor and surprisingly, he had a lot of students join. He taught martial arts and kendo, as well as a few other things.

Sometimes, Mr. Kagami filled in as a substitute teacher when one of the other teachers were gone. Everyone liked him, he made jokes in class and they got to do fun stuff other than boring bookwork. His was the only class Zane stayed awake in for longer than fifteen minutes.

When Yukito and Zane had first met, a gang was trying to recruit him again. He'd refused and they reacted violently, he'd managed to knock out five of them before two pinned his arms to the ground. Yukito showed up then and beat up the goons pinning Zane's arms. They fought together and were so exhausted by the time it was all over they just collapsed, breathing hard, among their enemies.

Yukito had turned to him and held out his hand, "You're a pretty good fighter. I'm Yukito Kagami. What's your name?"

"Zane," was all he replied, but then added, "You're not bad yourself."

Zane smiled at the memory; he only smiled if it had something to do with the Kagamis.

He entered the dojo where he was immediately run over by Ayano, Yukito's little sister. Little was a bit of an exaggeration though, as she was just a year younger than him.

"Whoa! Slow down, Ayano! Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"Zane! Yukito's been looking for you; I think he said he was going to be by the river. I'm on my way to pick up Mayu and I'm already late," she said hurriedly.

Mayu was the real little sister. She was in first grade and had the cutest personality. But Zane, being Zane, didn't interact well with good people. The only ones he hung out with from the family were Yukito and Mr. Kagami. Sometimes he'd run into Ayano, but they didn't talk much. Despite the good family environment, Yukito had turned into a delinquent when his friend was killed from injuries by a gang. To relieve the stress he started fighting.

When Zane reached the river he found Yukito, but he wasn't alone.

"Hey! Dark Void's here!" a gangster yelled, when he spotted him.

"You don't need to announce it to the whole world, so why don't you put a sock in it and fight?"

Zane kicked his legs out from under his opponent even as he spoke. Yukito joined him and they stood back to back. They came in a rush, fists flying but only a few landed on the intended targets. A gang member with purple hair and a metal bar came at Zane but he dodged and counterattacked by driving his elbow into the guy's back, just below the neck. The assailant cried out in pain and fell, his hands groping for Zane's ankles.

Zane grabbed another one by his shirt collar and left arm and threw him in the river, making a satisfying splash. Yukito, not to be left out, kicked a guy with spiky green hair in the shins and landed a blow to his belly, which made him gasp. Both were breathing hard now and they were sorely outnumbered. Then the purple haired gangster got a hold of Zane's ankles, and he brought him down.

"Hold up!" someone yelled from the top of the bank. Zane guessed he was their leader.

"Void, come on buddy why don't you join us? If you want we can include your friend here." He was muscular in the arms and chest. His hair was messy and his breath stank. He wore a rumpled white shirt that had food stains on the front and his jeans were torn at the knees.

Zane scoffed, "If I've told you once I've told you a million times. I don't care to join your ruddy, rundown gang. Besides, you attacked us first. Why should I even listen to you, Hunter?"

Hunter's eyes narrowed and they could see he was angry.

"We've asked you time and time again, I've had enough. Don't join us then, but I'm not letting another gang get their hands on you. Sorry, but you'll just have to die!"

Hunter pulled a gun from waistband, aimed it at Zane's heart, and fired. The bullet flew through the air and struck solid ice, shattering it instantly, but it was enough to stop the bullet. There were a few minutes where nobody said anything. But then Hunter shattered the silence with the one question that was on everyone's mind.

"What . . . just happened?" Hunter backed away slowly.

Zane looked down at his chest and felt where the bullet should have struck. When he looked up again, Hunter and his gang ran, shouting "Freak!" at the top of their lungs. A hand clasped his shoulder tightly.

"What happened? I thought for sure you were going to die, just like—"Yukito broke off.

"I don't know. But I'm not dead so it can't be bad."

Yukito smiled, "Yeah got that right. Still, you scared them off so how about we celebrate!"

Zane looked at him skeptically.

"Celebrate with what?" he asked.

"Food," he replied.

Zane started laughing, another thing that could only happen with the Kagamis. Yukito could pack away enough food that would make you fat in a day and still remain skinny. Yukito looked at him, faking a broken heart.

"Whatever, but you're buying, and I'm not paying a dime," Zane said with finality.

"What? Come on! It's our victory we're celebrating. O-U-R, we have to pay together!" he whined.

"It was your idea in the first place, so no. You pay, or we don't eat," Zane replied.

"Come on!" Yukito wailed, dragging out the syllables.

Zane stared at the dark, badly in need of repair, house before him. He didn't want to go inside, he'd rather sleep outside. He'd done it before, so why not now? Problem was, he'd been sleeping outside for three days now and it was growing colder; the house was probably a mess. If he had to live in it, then it wasn't going to be a dump where he had to step over unpleasant things or smell unpleasant smells. Well, with the exclusion of his father since he never smelled pleasant, even after taking a shower which was rare in itself. He sighed, opened the door . . . and immediately recoiled, his nose wrinkling at the stench of alcohol and unwashed articles of something. Clothes were strewn on the floor, with all manner of bottles and cigarettes. Zane heard his father snoring in a corner to his right, and sure enough a massive hulk was leaning there.

He turned away and plodded up the stairs to his room. At least here it was clean, although he couldn't prevent smell from going where it wanted to go. He opened a window and breathed in the fresh air. A light breeze played with his hair as the final rays of sun sank below the surface and stars popped out one by one. This used to be his mother's room but when she left Zane decided he'd rather sleep here than closer to where his father slept.

He didn't know his mother. His old man said she left soon after he was born. He didn't know whether to believe him or not. He'd lied enough that, for all Zane knew his mother could've been from another dimension and eaten metal. Having nothing better to do, Zane got out his homework assignments. Despite being a delinquent, he had good grades. You could even tell how much stress he was going through by them. The higher the amount of stress, the higher his grades were. It's one of the things he did to lose himself in. If the stress level was low or nonexistent, which was never, his grade's ranged from eighty to ninety percent. If it got worse, he always got hundreds, and sometimes he gave answers that were college level, which made the teachers think they should move him up a grade. Of course, they were probably just trying to get rid of him faster.

"Zane! You home?"

His father's yelling woke Zane out of his trance.

"What now old geezer?"

"I'm heading out for another drink, clean the place up," his father shouted up at him.

"I have to live here with a stink like you; of course I'm going to clean it! But it's not for your benefit!" he shouted back.

"Shut up brat! You'd be living on the streets starving if it wasn't for me!"

"That's a lie, and we both know it. I'm the one who works several part-time jobs for your sorry behind!"

"I swear boy, one of these days I'm just going to lose it completely and . . . Forget it, I'm not wasting my time on you, just get the place cleaned up," his father shouted one last time before slamming the door.

Zane sighed heavily. He knew that when his father came back drunk and remembered their conversation, he'd probably beat him again. He could fight him, but unfortunately, his old man had a friend in the police force who owed him. Zane would just get blackmailed and then his father would beat him even harder. He sat on the window seat and knocked his head back against the sill a few times.

"You're a fool, Zane," he whispered to himself. "A damn fool."