Title: 893

Rating: Mature

Parings: It's gen

Warnings: Harry has potty mouth and is rude. Violence, explosions, martial arts

Beta: 50ft queenie and purpledodah

Disclaimer: I do not own or hold any rights to Harry Potter. Those rights belong to JK Rowling, Warner Brothers and I'm not sure who else. This fan fiction was written for fun, not profit. However, this story does belong to me. Please don't snitch it.

Authors notes: In this story Harry goes to Japan. {Figured that out the easy way, right?} He learns about magic in an environment where he is taught magic but he also invents magic, which he copies from manga. He reads Inuyasha, Gundam Wing, Yu Yu Hakusho, and Ruroni Kenshin. He is not a nice little boy, being raised by Yakuza. He's not necessarily mean either. He just has a slightly different set of morals. {Yes, this is a totally self-indulgent wank on my part.}

While reading, you will notice changes in the way dialog is written. If the speaker is speaking English and there is Japanese included, that's what he is speaking, Japanese words and phrases jumbled into his English. If the speaker is speaking all English, it's just written in English. If the speaker is speaking Japanese and I've translated it, I'll put it in italics. Unless the majority is Japanese, then I'll do it the other way around, I'll put a remark at the beginning of the chapter so you'll know for sure. There will also be some places where someone speaks Japanese in front of English speakers who are speaking English, in that case it will be in romanji, with translations either in the dialog or at the end of the chapter. Titles like 'Oyabun' will always be in Japanese. I also won't try to write that odd brand of English that Japanese people seem to speak. In my world they speak 'proper' English. All Japanese names are Family/Given, unless otherwise noted. Harry will be known by his Japanese name in the first few chapters but I'll make sure you know what it is.

Also, to those who know more about Japan than I do, this is an idealized Japan. Things are not always identical to the real thing. The Yakuza are more active and more visible. Magic is well known but it's like taking a bath in a traditional coop bath house. You see but don't 'look'.

Also, as many abused children do, Harry might act much younger than he really is.

The little boy crept into the bushes behind #4 Privet Drive and huddled down. It was late, cold and the dew was just setting on. He was a bad freak and so he was locked out of the house. He was supposed to go to the shed at the bottom of the garden but Uncle Vernon had not unlocked it.

He quailed in terror as voices speaking a strange language approached. If they found him, they would tell Uncle Vernon. He didn't like being an ashtray so he huddled down as close to the trunk of the yew bush as he could get.

"I'm sorry, Oyabun, I know I saw something in the bushes."

"Well, find it, you stupid monkey, and bring it to me."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'll look."

Harry flinched a bit as the older man smacked the younger one on the back of the head. The younger man didn't seem to notice much and Harry thought it had been more noise than anything else.

When the younger man crouched down again Harry was torn. If he scrooched back enough that the man couldn't see him, Vernon would. If he stayed where he was, his uncle couldn't get to him, but the other man could.

He wished everyone would go away and let him rest. He hurt all over and he was so hungry that he felt stupid and so thirsty that his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He paid for his moment of inattention. The man snagged his foot and pulled him out. He cried out in pain as he was dragged out, his cut back bumping on the hard earth.

The man called Oyabun looked at the tiny form. "It's a boy!" The man examined the boy for a moment. "Bring him inside, Kuma."

The man holding the boy started to pick him up but Harry took one look at his light suit and whimpered, "No, no! Don't! I'm all dirty, it'll ruin your nice suit. I'll walk. Please."

Kuma spoke very good English so he under stood his little captive. "Maa, maa. Hush, you. It'll clean. You must always obey the Oyabun, no matter what he says. He's a very important man."

Harry trembled as he trotted into the house beside the man. His ankle hurt, his back hurt and he thought he was bleeding from somewhere. He was going to make a mess and the Oyabun would be mad. He wondered how hard the man would beat him, or would he just have Kuma shoot him with his gun. Harry knew the man had one, he'd seen it when he pulled him out from under the bush.

The Oyabun turned in the kitchen and said, "Stand there. Who are you? Why are you spying on us?"

Kuma translated. Harry had no idea what he was talking about so he just replied, "I'm Freak. I was just ... hiding from my uncle. I'm supposed to go to the shed but he didn't unlock it. He won't care though. He'll just get mad and hit me, cause I'm a bad freak."

Kuma translated this keeping his face as serene as he could. The Oyabun had children, grown now and working in the gumi, but he was well known to have a soft spot for kids.

Miyamoto Musashi looked down at the tiny boy and sighed. "Well, what is wrong with these idiots. He's a perfectly nice looking child. Ask him if he'd like me to be his father." He raised an eyebrow at the look his so-honbucho was giving him. "Don't look at me like that. I've been wanting a toy child for a while. He'll do as well as any other."

Kuma was some sort of nephew of the Oyabun and knew that he didn't mean a 'sex toy' child but a child that was a 'toy' in the way of being spoiled, indulged and taught to amuse the parent with witty conversation and tumbling and such.

"As you wish, I'll ask him." Kuma turned to the small boy and said, "Your people are not nice to you. Would you like to come with us? Miyamoto Musashi, the Oyabun, would like you to be his son. What do you think?"

Harry, wary of anything adults offered him, asked, "Can I have something to eat? And some clothes? I know I'm being greedy but ... I'd really like a pair of shoes that fit."


Kuma was a yakuza with at least three murders to his credit but he was nearly in tears as he translated, "He says if he can have something to eat and some new clothes, especially a pair of shoes that fit."

Miyamoto-Oyabun turned to Harry. "You have what you want. Anything. I get you things I think you have too. Yes?" His English wasn't good, that was why he always had a translator and never spoke it in public.

"Yes, please, sir."

Kuma blew his nose then said, "Ok, kiddo. You say, Hai! Otousan. That means, yes, honorable father. You should also bow. You think you can do that?"

Harry carefully bowed, doing a fairly good job of it. "Hai! Otousan!" He blinked at the tall, stern faced man for a moment.

Kuma gasped softly. "Oyabun! Look at his eyes. They are green!"

Miyamoto-sama looked and replied, "Yes, so they are. Jade green. This child is truly a treasure. Take him into the bathroom and get him cleaned up. One of the kobun should have something to fit him. A yukata, perhaps."

Harry followed Kuma to the bath room, taking off his shoes obediently when told to.

Kuma ran a bath, he thought Westerners were filthy, getting into the tub before they were decently clean, but in this case he just helped Harry strip. He had the tiny boy bend over the toilet then spread his ass cheeks gently with his thumbs.

Harry objected to this, saying, "I wiped my bum good when I went!"

"Just checking. There's blood."

"Oh! Well, the cuts are higher up. It just ran down."

Kuma relaxed. "Sorry, the ... boss would have my finger if I didn't make sure. Here, the tub is full, get in. Wash what you can reach. I'm going to get you something to wear. It'll probably be too big, and Nihon wear, but it'll be clean."

Harry slid into the tub and reached for the wash cloth. "That's ok, Mr. Kuma. What's Nihon?"

Kuma laughed softly. "It's Kuma-kun. I'm no Western Mister. Nihon is Japan. That's where all of us are from. We're here ... conducting some ... business."

"Oh. Can you shoot with that gun?"

Kuma just shrugged. "I get the job done. Why?"

Harry sighed, peeked at Kuma from the corner of his eye and said. "I wish I could shoot with a gun. I'd go shoot Uncle Vernon. He's a bad man. He ... calls me a freak. He ... I won't get in trouble for saying?"

"No. You tell Kuma whatever you want." Kuma winked at Harry broadly. "Maybe Kuma can ... fix things, yes?"

"He hit me with a belt because I got a better score on my paper than Dudley did. He said I cheated. I didn't! How can you cheat on a drawing of a rainbow."

"Mmmm. He's going to get his. We'll figure out something. You! Wash!"

"Yes, sir." And Harry started washing while Kuma went to report to his Oyabun and find Harry something clean.

The only thing he could find was a small yukata that one of the kobun had accidentally packed. It belonged to his little brother so it was only a bit too large, not that uncommon a happening.

He returned to check on Harry and found the water filthy and the little boy quite a bit cleaner.

"Ah, good. Let me change the water, so you can get really clean. I'm going to put down a rug for you to get out on. Then I'm going to dry you off and put some cream on your cuts. It'll sting a bit. Sorry about that, but you don't want an infection." Kuma efficiently drained the tub and started running clean water into it. "I'll just throw away these bloody things. Ok?" Kuma wasn't about to do anything without asking Harry first, even if he knew there was no use for the nasty bloody things.

Harry, who'd been doing a lot of thinking, and some eavesdropping, decided that he was going to trust these men. They had a completely different feel from Uncle Vernon and his bunch. "I ... if I ask you to do something, will you get mad if it's a bad idea?"

"No. I'll just tell you so. What do you want?"

Harry nibbled at his lip, then said softly, "I want to get Uncle Vernon in trouble."

"Ha! Good boy! How?"

Harry gave this rather mild approval a brilliant smile in return. "Well, if we hide my bloody clothing somewhere, like in the shed then call the cops and tell them that I'm missing, they'll do the rest? Maybe?"

Kuma laughed so hard he burped. "Oh! Warui, gomen. I mean, my bad, sorry. You'll have to learn Nihongo. Japanese."

"Ok. But was my idea good?"

"Yes. We'll go talk to the Oyabun. The boss. Miyamoto Musashi-sama. And you'll need a Japanese name. We'll worry about that later, though."

Harry got out of the tub and let Kuma dry him off. He also rubbed stuff into his cuts and bruises. It stank and came in a tin with a tiger on it. He looked at the dress Kuma wanted him to wear and frowned.

"A dress? But, I'm a boy!" His near wail brought Miyamoto-sama to the door.
"What is wrong here?" His gruff snap made Harry quail. "Stand up, young one."

Kuma laughed again. He explained quickly.

Miyamoto-sama smiled at Harry. "No dresses. Boys wear this. I big boy, I wear. Here! Look!" He pulled a wallet out of his pocket and showed Harry a picture of himself in a dress thing with a vest on over it, split toed socks on his feet and straw sandals.

Harry looked at the picture then grinned. "Ok. It's nice with the vest thingy. What's it called."

"A haori. And, when we get back to Nihon I'll get you hakama. That's pants. You'll like them."

Harry gave him a puzzled look. "Don't Nihonese wear trousers. I don't think you should wear pants on the outside."

"Nihonjin. I think we get mixed up a bit. Pants are these." Kuma tugged at the crease in his trousers.

Harry pointed to his dirty underwear. "Those are pants. You wear them under trousers. Where'd you learn to speak English?"

"American city. Chicago. This is going to be fun. Teaching you. Yes." He nodded his head emphatically, his English slipping a bit in his excitement. "Now. Put on this and we'll get you something to eat."

Harry put the yukata on and started to cross the fronts but Kuma stopped him. "No, other way around. Left over right. Right over left is for dead people."

"Ok. But ... Why?" Harry waited. Usually, when he asked a question, he'd get a clout over the head. Only his new father had any idea how much courage it took to ask a simple question.

"Because, if you cross it this way..." Kuma efficiently got the obi wrapped around Harry three times and fluffed the bow a bit. "then you can put things in the pocket formed by the drape. There!" He patted this and pulled at that. "You look very kawaii and kakkoi."

Harry looked at himself in the mirror. He didn't look the least bit girly so he approved, especially when he saw the proud look on his new father's face.

"Otousan! I look ok?"

"Aa! Dai jobu desu ka?"

Kuma helped out. "Yes. Are you well?"

Harry bowed to his father. "Yes. I'm good."

And so his new life began.

"Come! Sit! You had idea? Tell me!"

Kuma picked Harry up to carry him, explaining, "The bathroom floor is dirty. I'll carry you to cleaner. You tell the Oyabun your idea. He'll either tell you it's ok or it's crap."

So Harry explained his idea. "Well, see, everyone here hates me because my aunt and uncle lie on me all the time and Dudley is a prat and beats me up. So, I've been living in the cupboard under the stairs all my life. It's sure to be full of blood, from ... stuff. If I disappear and my bloody stuff is found in the shed, maybe ... the cops will think Uncle Vernon murdered me or something and they'll get into trouble. All the neighbours will gossip about how much trouble they've all had with me and that'll make it even worse 'cause it'll look like they think they had a reason. See?"

Miyamoto-sama thought about Kuma's translation, what he'd understood of what Harry had said, Kuma's rather acidic additions and his own knowledge of human behavior. "Yes. This is good." then he had to switch into Japanese. "Kuma-kun, get Genji Shinichi in here. I have to think about this a bit. And bring tea. We might as well get ..." He turned his gazed to Harry. "Your name, boy. And your age."

Harry sighed, "Harry Potter sir. Or Freak. But you can call me anything you like. I'm nine." he hoped that Otousan wouldn't like freak.
"Hmmm, we need to find that boy a name. He'll take my family name, of course. But he needs a strong name."

Kuma nodded. "Aa, Oyabun. I'm going now. And I'll bring the boy back some food too."

Kuma, as so-honbucho, or Chief of HeadQuarters, knew where everyone and everything in the house was. He found Genji Shinichi and told him that he was wanted then went to make tea and something for Harry to eat. He wondered what the boy would like then decided that the boy would probably eat anything.

He had to shake his head. The boy was way too skinny and smaller than he should be. He'd fix that quickly, he decided. "Hai! Hai! Some good food for the boy. Let me see ... miso ... rice ... a bit of fish. Won't do to feed him too much all at once and make him sick."

"You talkin' to yourself and in English? Gaijin make you crazy?"

Kuma shook his head. "No. But we'll all need to practice it a bit more. The Oyabun has a toy child now. He doesn't speak Nihon."

Genji-san thought about that as Kuma filled his tray. "Perhaps not, but ... we shouldn't speak English around him too much. He'll learn quicker if he gets ... drowned? In Nihon. Just let him speak English when he's totally confused ... or gets frustrated. What's the Oyabun want?"

"You'll see. Come on, asshole."

Genji didn't object to being called 'asshole' as the word used was 'kono yaru' and in this connotation only meant 'you'.

They returned to the Oyabun and his chosen child.

Kuma put the tray on the table and started pouring tea.

Harry took the cup that Kuma handed him and said, "Thank you." when his eyes lit on the bowl of rice and fish he looked astonished. "Is all that for me?"

"Yes, and the soup too. Eat slowly or you'll get sick."

Harry looked at the sticks Kuma handed him then at the food. He had no idea how to eat with sticks.

Kuma just laughed and handed him a fork. "You'll learn to eat with hashi later. Just get used to the idea. Dig in."

"Thank you ... Kuma-kun?" Kuma nodded at Harry's questioning of his proper name then turned to the conversation between Miyamoto-sama and Genji-san.

Harry paid attention to his food and the odd, green tea, letting the conversation go by over his head.

"Well, it seems we have a fine addition to the family. He understands revenge well, even at this young age. So, Genji-san, please see to it that the bloody clothing is in sight but not easily seen." Miyamoto-sama thought for a moment. "A break in would be a good reason to call the police. Make sure that a neighbour sees you but don't actually get caught. Yes?"

Genji-san bowed slightly. "Yes, Oyabun, I'll slip around to the other side. That woman there is nosey as they come. I'll riffle the house and take anything of worth that I can lay hands on easily. Jewelry and such. Any money. Anything else I should take?"

"We trying to make it look like a simple break in? Or something more?" Kuma furrowed his brow in thought.

Miyamoto-sama decided. "Make it look like a druggie did it. That way the onus for the young man's disappearance falls directly on the family." He snorted. "If you can call them that. Be seen but be careful."

Later that night, Genji slipped out the back door and into the hedges. Harry watched him go, puzzled as to why the usually very elegantly dressed man was wearing out at the knee jeans and a ragged flannel shirt.

Genji eeled through the hedge, picked the lock on the shed and opened it carefully in case it squeaked. He used a small pen light to look around. What he saw enraged him. There was a bloody, dirty blanket in one corner, obviously the bed Harry slept on when he was forced to stay in the shed over night. He smiled, a rather evil looking thing, and just tossed Harry's old clothing onto the pile and kicked it under the work bench, leaving a trailing corner to make it look like an attempt to hide it. He looked out, checked the sun and eased into the yard next door.

He smiled at the Western idea that a lock would keep a determined Ninja out. It didn't take him long to climb the back of the house and slip into the upstairs window, showing his silhouette to the window peeper next door in the process. He rummaged the bedroom that obviously belonged to the adults. He found a small jewelry box in the bottom of a drawer. It contained a delicate pair of earrings, a necklace and a bracelet. He pocketed it and the envelope of bills that was beside it. He tossed all the dresser drawers onto the floor in the process.

A search of the closet found another, much larger jewelry box which contained mostly bad costume stuff which he tossed onto the floor of the closet. The bottom drawer yielded a pair of emerald earrings in bezel settings, a mans ring with a crest on it and a letter. A shelf above his head attracted his attention and he looked it over carefully. A box contained a sleeper and a baby blanket, since the corner of the blanket had a big P on it he stuffed it all into his backpack and continued his search. He trashed the closet a bit, tossing more stuff on the floor as quietly as he could. He didn't think the family would have noticed anyway, as the tv was so loud as to hide quite a bit more noise than he'd ever make.

He took a quick look into the next room and shook his head. It was a mess, toys everywhere, most of them broken. He couldn't see anything worth taking so he moved on. The next room, across the hall from the messy one was bigger and also full of toys, games and video equipment. He took the hand held games as well as every cartridge he could stuff into his pack. He also stacked the game systems, he could carry them easily after duct taping them together. He left the cables dangling.

Genji-sama snickered as he eased down the stairs. This bunch was so oblivious that he was tempted to do something silly, like sneak right past them, but he refrained. He did slip into the small office and look for a safe or lock box. He found a lock box in the bottom drawer and just took the whole thing. He didn't care what was in it, just that the theft would cause them annoyance.

He had to do a bit of quick foot work to open the cupboard under the stairs enough to attract attention. He blocked it with a bit of folded paper stuffed into the lock plate and another under the back edge of the bottom. Even if one of them managed to close the door without attracting attention, it wouldn't stay. He took a quick look inside, risking discovery and snarled to himself. No child should be treated this way. He was severely tempted to teach the fat man a lesson. But he shrugged this off as it wasn't what his Oyabun wanted.

He made sure that the nosy woman next door caught sight of him as he forced his way through the hedge. Not what he would usually do as he was perfectly capable of jumping it, but he needed to leave some evidence of intrusion or the police wouldn't search.

He was changed and calmly sipping tea when the police knocked on the door.

Harry flinched at the knock but Kuma patted him on the shoulder. "Now, remember, you don't speak English. Keep your eyes down and hide behind me as much as you can get away with."

Harry frowned. "What time is it?"

Kuma checked his Rolex watch. "Nearly eight. Why?"

Harry managed a quite creditable smirk. "I'm small for my age. Tell them I'm four, instead of nine. I'll just go to bed and pretend to be asleep."

Kuma chuckled and helped him into the bed. "There. Close your eyes. Perhaps you'll actually be asleep soon."

Harry snuggled down in the first bed he remembered sleeping in and fell asleep before Kuma was out the door. It had been a very stressful day and he was worn out.

Kuma entered the parlor just in time, the Oyabun was getting annoyed. The policeman, like many Westerners, seemed to think that the louder he spoke, the better the chance that he'd be understood.

Kuma bowed with just enough depth to be rude, but not enough to be insulting. He knew the subtleties of this were lost on the policeman but still, proprieties should be observed.

"How may I help you?"

"You see anything odd about an hour ago?" The officer was tired, annoyed and just wanted to complete this canvas and clock out. The paper work was going to be killer.

"An hour ago? No, okami." Kuma kept his replies as short as he could. He knew that using the yakuza word for police would go over the officer's head.

"Anyone else in the house that might have seen something?"

Kuma shrugged. "I could ask around. There are four others in the house, but none of them speak English."

"I'd like to talk to them." The officer, oblivious to the twinkle in the older man's eye, set himself up for an interesting conversation.

Ten minutes later, the officer had a headache and all the Yakuza kyōdai were amused. The officer shouted at them, they bowed and exclaimed, "Hai! Hai! Warui, aho!" in very polite tones. The Oyabun had to still his twitching lips several times. Saying "Yes! Yes! Sorry, asshole!" was not something you could get away with in Japan but it was very amusing here.

Finally, he snapped, "Kuma! Yamero! Urusai!" then he turned and walked out of the room. He had to leave before he started laughing. It was not a good thing to laugh in the face of a policeman.

Kuma bowed, too deeply, and said, "I am so very sorry. My boss is a man of little patience. If we wake his ... son, yes, son. He will be most displeased. Most unhappy. The boy is four and asleep. Sorry. Please?" He carefully bowed and edged the man right out the door.


While this was going on at the yakuza house, the Dursleys were experiencing some difficulties of their own.

A sharp eyed officer had noticed the open cupboard door and looked inside. He'd called the supervisor and had him look. This had led to a search of the entire property and the discovery of the bloody blanket and clothing. Vernon was now under arrest and officers were searching for the young nephew, who hadn't been seen for several days. The neighbor who called in the break in was just thrilled to tell the officers all about the juvenile delinquent nephew who was always in some sort of trouble or other.

A more through search of the house revealed that the missing boy was nearly erased from existence. No pictures, no proper clothing, no evidence of a bed or other place for him to sleep. There were going to be a lot of questions that needed proper answers.

Petunia only managed to evade arrest because of Dudley. Dudley was just delighted that he didn't have to put up with that freak any longer, his comments only added to the families difficulties.

Harry woke in the morning to a cheerful voice calling, "Wake up! Time for breakfast. Oko shimas! Asa gohan!"

Harry scrambled out of bed and struggled to get his yukata rearranged. Kuma helped him with quick, gentle hands then said, "The Oyabun has said that you are to be spoken to only in Japanese. So that you will learn the language quickly. If you get really confused you are allowed to ask questions in English. Please, try very hard. Yes? It will please your Otousan."

Harry wrinkled his brow in confusion. "I thought he is my Chichi-ue?"

"Yes. But he is not my father. Chichi-ue means 'my father' Otosan is your father. See?"

"Yes, sir. Aa, Kuma-kun."

"Yatta!" They grinned at each other and Kuma scooped Harry up, tossed him over his shoulder and carried him to breakfast.

Harry loved the breakfast. He had more rice, a whole fish of his own, pickles, miso soup and tea. He even managed to eat the pickles and fish with his hashi. He learned that it was ok to just drink the soup from the bowl but he had to use a china spoon to eat his rice. He just couldn't manage with the sticks. But he was surprised and pleased to find that everyone there thought him incredibly smart to manage what he had. All the kyōdai exclaimed, "Hai! Hai! Yattane!" Smiling and clapping for him. He glowed at the praise and managed, "Gomen, tako."

This made the men all laugh as he'd said, "Sorry, octopus."

After breakfast, Miyamoto-sama stood up and said, "Harry, I will speak to you in English. That you will understand me. Demo ... but, this is not to be done much. We are going to get you nice clothing. See? You may have anything you like."

Harry thought about this for a moment. "Thank you, Otousan. Are you taking me back to Nihon?"

"Of course! Not leaving you here. Silly boy." Miyamoto-san swelled out his chest a bit. "You are mine now. Do me honor. Yes?"

"Yes, sir, I'll do my best." Harry glanced at Kuma who mouthed the words. "Gambari masu." Harry repeated them.

"Very good. Yattane! You did it! Come, we get stuff now."

Harry was pleased to see that one of the kobun had worn a yukata too. The driver was dressed in a very expensive suit as was Kuma, who usually wore jeans or BDU's and t-shirts at home. His new father was dressed in a suit, with a vest, and looked every inch an elegant, well educated gentleman.

They drove to a nearby shopping centre and found a store that Miyamoto-san approved of.

They went in and he moved through the displays, pointing to things. The kobun took them off the rack and carried them behind him exclaiming, "Hai! Hai! Suteki na sentaku!" meaning 'Yes! Yes! Excellent choice!' at every choice.

Harry just trailed along, looking at the stuff in wonder.

They took the pile to a fitting room, which was locked, but not for long.

Harry blinked as Kuma slipped a bit of plastic into the crack between the door and the jamb and opened it easily. "I wanna learn that. Can I? Please?"

Kuma nodded. "I'll teach you. Japanese please."

"Oh, warui!"

Kuma translated what Harry wanted to say into Japanese then had him say it himself.

"Here! Try on." Harry cringed a bit at the tone of his Otousan's voice.

Kuma patted him on the shoulder. "Maa-maa. Ochitsuite, calm down, Harry-kun. All of us talk like that. He doesn't mean anything bad."

Harry sighed. "Ok, warui, Kuma-kun."

Harry went into the fitting room and started sorting through stuff. He found that his new father had an odd taste for 'cute' stuff. Clothing that Harry wouldn't wear on a bet. He hated Tele-tubies, Sesame Street and Barney. He sifted through until he had a smaller pile of plain or sports related things that he liked.

He put on one outfit and went out to let the others see it.

When he went out, he walked right into the middle of an argument between Miyamoto and a clerk. It wasn't going well, for the clerk, Miyamoto was pretending not to understand any English at all, as was Kuma. Harry sighed, this was going to be an aggravation that he didn't need.

He needed to interfere before they made enough of a scene that the woman remembered them. He pulled gently on his fathers trouser leg.

"Otousan, I like this. Yes?"

The woman turned to him. "Do you speak English, dear?"

"Yes, ma'am. I was born here. What's wrong?"

"You're not supposed to take that many items into the fitting room. And you're supposed to wait for me to unlock it."

"Oh, sorry. But the door was open. And I don't see a sign anywhere. Not that I can read. Sorry. I'll bring out everything I don't like. Ok?"

Harry immediately decided that he didn't like the woman or her attitude. He wasn't sure what a jap was but he didn't like her tone of voice.

"Otousan . Can I whisper?"

"Yes. What is it?" He bent down and scooped Harry up to rest on his hip.

Harry managed a very creditable whisper, especially for a nine year old. "I don't like that woman. I don't want to buy too much stuff here either. I want to wait until we're in Nihon and get clothing there. Ok?"

"Huh! Good, good. Pick ... three suits. And to wear under. One each."

"A package?"

"Hai! Ichi tsu tsumi des."

"Ok." Harry was put down. He went to find a package of pants, t-shirts and socks. The lady followed him.

"What do you need, sweetie?" Her sickly-sweet tone insulted Harry but he just asked for what he needed and let her go look for it.

He liked the jeans, t-shirt and shoes he had on. So he put them to one side. After trying on several more outfits, he had three that he liked.

One outfit was a track suit with Manchester United logos on the back of the shirt and the leg of the trousers. Another was a simple pair of jeans and a green t-shirt. The third was something Harry had always wanted, a neat button down shirt, vest and dark grey dress trousers. He wondered if he ought to get a tie.

He modeled each choice for the group and got approval from them for everything except the Manchester United set. When he explained that it would be, in his opinion, most comfortable for flying, he was allowed to have it. He swelled with happiness, this was turning out to be the best decision of his life, so far.

It was decided that he'd wear the jeans and t-shirt, but the shoes were already rubbing his toes so he put them back.

"I still need shoes. Those don't fit."

"Sweetie, I measured your feet, those should fit."

Harry just shrugged and said, sullenly, "Well, they don't. I don't want them."

Suddenly, Kuma and Miyamoto-sama were just behind him, pouring on the intimidation. The clerk looked up and made a sound that was suspiciously like, 'eep!'


"She says the shoes should fit. They don't." Harry tried a sulk.

"No sulk. You no like, you no take." Miyamoto-sama's expression made his opinion of the woman and being forced to use his poor English plain. "Onna no baka." He snorted, handed over his credit card and motioned for the wakashu to pick Harry up.

Harry just clung to the man's yukata and whispered, "Domo arigato gozaimas."

"Do ita shimaste, Tenshi." The wakashu smiled at Harry.

They left the store in a clump. Miyamoto turned to Kuma. "I don't like that woman. Her attitude was shameful. The young one needs shoes. Find him some."

"Ok, boss. Right on it."

Harry, meanwhile, had persuaded the wakashu to wander down the sidewalk a bit. He enjoyed the view from this high up and the feeling that no one would bother him. The strong arms supporting him made him feel safe.

"What's your name?"

The wakashu looked at Harry in confusion. Harry pointed to himself, making a fist and jerking his extended thumb at his chest. "Harry. Name Harry." He pointed at the wakashu, making the young man cross his eyes. They both laughed.

The wakashu understood Harry at last and said, "Wa tashi no namae wa Nomura Hoshiyo des." He crooked his hand around to point at his nose with his index finger.

"Nomura Hoshiyo?"

"Hai! Nomura-kun." He smiled and nodded several times.

"Go there, Nomura-kun. Dozo?"


Harry had spotted a shoe store and pointed to it. Nomura-kun ambled in that direction, followed by the rest of the group.

Harry thought they were being very indulgent with him because of his uncle and his many injuries, he would find out later that the Japanese are usually very indulgent with their children and a toy child was even more indulged than normal. He didn't even have to worry about his siblings being jealous of him. His three brothers were all much older than he was and already out of school and involved in the organization.

Harry looked in the window and saw sandals, shoes and boots all over. He had actually never been to a store before so everything was new and interesting.

"I want those. Please?" Harry turned begging green eyes on his Otousan. The man melted at once. Miyamoto Musashi was the head of one of the largest and most clandestine Yakuza gumi's in existence but he melted into a puddle at the sight of those eyes.

"You have whole store, you want? Dozo?"

Harry smiled sweetly. "No, thank you. Just those boots and that pair of sandals. Please? Kudasai?"

So they went in. Harry pointed to the boots he wanted and the sandals. The man had him stand on a metal thing to find the proper size and Harry wandered around while he waited for his size to be brought out. He found some plastic sandals, commonly called flip-flops, which Kuma called zori. He tried them on and liked them.

Kuma added them to the pile of stuff that was already on the counter. While Harry had been getting sized, Miyamoto had picked out a simple backpack, an umbrella and a hat for Harry. Both the boots and sandals fit properly and the man had brought out a pair of dress shoes as well. They purchased the whole lot and headed back for the car.

Harry managed, "Domo ..." before bursting into tears.

"Maa-maa. Tenshi. No cry."

Harry sobbed, "But I'm so happy. Thank you so very much. I'll be a good son. I promise."

They quickly went to the car to hide Harry's crying. Miyamoto-sama took him on his lap, patting his shoulders and whispering soft words in his ear.

Harry was calm by the time they got home. Nomura-kun insisted on carrying Harry into the house as he was still hitching his breath a bit. The poor wakashu was jumped the second the others saw Harry.

"What did you to do him, asshole."

"Shit, you made him cry."

Kuma broke it up before it got too rough. "Stop! He's just too happy. Nomura-san didn't do anything. Go away! You're scaring the kid."

Harry, put down at last, bowed to the group. "Thank you. You are ... pretty? To me."

Since the word, bijin, meant beautiful one, they all laughed. The tension broke and Harry was led into the parlor to go through the stuff Genji-sama had stolen to see what he wanted to keep. He wasn't shown any of the jewelry as it was decided to put it back until he was older. Miyamoto-san went through the papers and declared that the Gaijin were all stupid. Who was dumb enough to leave a child on a doorstep with only a note?

"Now, how to explain him to the authorities."

Genji shifted through the papers carefully. He exclaimed in pleasure, "Here! His birth certificate. I ... hummmm. Not hard at all. I'll just ... yes." He carefully examined the paper. "I can do this. Everyone knows that we all use Western names without worrying about legalities. So ... you were here about the time the young one was conceived. I'll use a bit of chemical magic and remove the name of James Potter. Common name. Bah! And you sign it. Then you claim that you were unaware of the boy until someone said something about him being abused. So, you came here to find out what was going on. Found that he was being hurt by his mother's boy friend and brought him back with you, signing the birth certificate at that time. No one will question that much. We'll handle all the appropriate paper work in Nihon and there we are. Yes?"

Miyamoto smiled happily. "Yes, that will work very well. A bit of grease here and there. All questions ignored and I have a son. Good work."

Harry, happily involved in going through his treasures, the hand held games Genji had taken from the Dursleys, had no idea how easily he had just disappeared from Britain. He was actually much more interested in the promised okonomiyaki for lunch.


Albus Dumbledore looked up from his paper work and grabbed his wand. "Minerva! There's trouble at the Dursleys. Hurry."

He tossed some floo powder into the fire and stepped through to Arabella Figg's house. "Mrs Figg! What's happening?"

"I don't know. I've been keeping an eye on the boy like you asked. He's a bit on the fat side but otherwise healthy."

Dumbledore looked at her for a second. "Fat? Well, never mind." Minerva stepped through just then. "Minerva, what is all this?"

"Muggle Aurors. I don't like this."

She waved her wand, transfiguring her robes into more muggle style garments and hurried out. Dumbledore settled on questioning Arabella about Harry.

"So, he's a bit overweight?"

"Yes, and he keeps his hair so short that you'd never know it was blond." She shook her head.

Dumbledore felt a cold chill run down his spine. "Blond? What about the other boy? The dark headed one?"

"Oh, that one. You hardly ever see him. Dirty thing. Always slinking around in the shadows."

"Oh, dear. This is not good. That one is the boy I sent you to watch. Not the blond one. Dear, dear, dear." Dumbledore sighed. "I'll have to go myself." His attempt at muggle garments wasn't as successful as McGonagall's. He looked every inch the eccentric.

When they went to ask questions they were both appalled to find that there was some suspicion that the young nephew had been murdered.

"Albus!" Minerva grabbed his arm.

"Calm yourself. The instruments show that he's injured in some way but not dead." He eased off to listen to the neighbors.

This led to the knowledge that he had made a terrible mistake leaving Harry here. But his instruments hadn't shown anything. They were noodling along, clearly indicating that he was healthy and well protected. The wards were up, but failing quickly in his absence.

Mrs Figg managed to hear a bit, and, as the local 'crazy', she found it easy to ask any question she liked. She found that Harry was known as 'that Potter boy' and thought to be a delinquent, liar and thief. His discipline was discussed in vague terms that made her uneasy.

The three gathered in the kitchen to compare notes and wait until they could get to the Dursleys and ask some very pointed questions.

It turned out that they got more information quite soon, a policeman turned up to ask Arabella some questions. Dumbledore claimed to be a cousin, on an evening visit. McGonagall just kept her mouth shut and glowered. One remark, made in a thick Glasgow accent, turned the officer back to more intelligible conversation.

They found that, due to the report of a prowler from the neighbor, the knock brought evidence of a burglary and some very disturbing evidence that the nephew was a 'person of concern'. In other words, no one had seen the boy for more than 72 hours. Blood in the cupboard under the stairs and the back yard shed also raised some concerns. Arabella had to report that she hadn't seen the boy in at least a week.

After the officer left, Dumbledore flooed back to his office and brought back some of his instruments. They continued to whistle and hum merrily for a few more moments then they all went nuts. The wards had fallen and they were now reacting to Harry's true condition. Dumbledore paled. They all said the same thing, he was not in good health, but he was in no imminent danger.

Minerva sighed. "How large a ward did you establish?"

"#4 and a house on each side. I did allow for him to be able to play with his neighbours, you see."

"Well, he has left the confines of the wards or they've fallen."

Dumbledore waived his wand to make sure. "They've fallen. But ... I need to run a test or two, but ... wards ... hummm. If what has happened is what I fear. Well, Harry was protected from all outside influences, even my instruments. This is not a good thing."

After the police left and they were sure that Petunia and Dudley were the only people in the house, they went over.

Dumbledore didn't bother to knock, he just walked in followed by Minerva and Severus Snape, the potions master of Hogwarts. Dumbledore had sent for him to come just before they started over.

"Severus, you have a way to tell if there is blood, and what kind it is?" The black haired man nodded. "Please check the cupboard under the stairs and the backyard shed."

"As you wish." He nodded to the tall skinny woman. "Petunia."

Dudley puffed up at the sight of all these strangers. "You're not supposed to be here. You're all freaks, just like Potty. I'll tell Daddy."

Severus just loomed over him, scowling in a manner that intimidated people much older than nine. "I am a Professor of Potions at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Not a freak. Watch your tongue, young man, or I'll pickle it. Petunia, control your sprog."

He opened the door to the cupboard and eyed it with disgust. This was not the way he expected Harry Potter, the Saviour-of-the-Wizarding-World, to be treated. This was not the way he expected a beggar child to be treated. He opened a small vial, tapped it with his wand and muttered something. A cloud of smoke issued from the vial which he waived around, making sure that the vapor covered every surface in the small space. He waived his wand again and areas began to glow. There was a lot of glow.

"Dumbledore, you need to see this. It's not good."

He stepped away so Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall could see. They both looked, paled and turned on Petunia.

Dumbledore said softly, "Be glad you are a woman and that Vernon is in jail. This is appalling. What on earth were you thinking?"

"That we never wanted the little freak. If you insist on dumping something like that on someone's doorstep without warning, arrangements or pay. Well, you get what you pay for." Petunia never knew how close she got to being hexed by the greatest and most powerful wizard alive.

Minerva McGonagall wasn't so nice. "Ye besom, ye'er nor better 'an a bin howker. T' owd banger deserved ta be clapped up." She took a deep breath, gave a little sniff and stormed out into the back yard. Even Snape stared after her.

Dumbledore opined, "Oh, my." and followed her.

Severus glowered at Petunia then said, "Run." and followed.

It didn't take them long to check the shed. It had some blood in one corner but the really incriminating evidence of the bloody blanket and clothing had been removed by the police. They still found enough to be of concern.

"I'd still like to know why my instruments didn't register any of this. I'm ashamed of myself. I should have come to check myself, instead I relied on Arabella and my devices. A frail straw, it seems. She was watching the wrong boy."

He went to stand in the middle of the back yard, waived his wand around for a bit then stood with slumped shoulders. It seemed that the wards had blocked the signals to his instruments, giving the impression that nothing was wrong with Harry, when everything was wrong. All the signals had built up behind the wards and were now being recorded for magical posterity.

Snape sighed, this was not good. He had hated the boy's father with a passion, but loved the mother. He could only hope that no real harm had come to the boy. That they would soon find him. He was to be disappointed.

Dumbledore called Petunia out and gave her the dressing down of a lifetime. He actually raved at her. She just stood there with bugging eyes. The power that poured off the old man was astonishing, it also caused a heat lightening storm of massive proportions.

McGonagall eyed Petunia then held her hand out, palm to her. "May the devil damn you to the stone of dirges or to the well of ashes seven miles below hell and may the devil break your bones. And all my calamity and harm and misfortune for a year on you." and with that, she apparated away with a loud crack.

Petunia shivered as a cold chill ran down her back.

Snape looked at Dumbledore who just replied, "I wouldn't dare." They both cracked away and Petunia was left to her fate.

It took three weeks for the investigation to decide that there was not enough proof to charge Dursley with anything except child abuse. He was sentenced to three years confinement. Petunia was also charged but put on probation in the interests of Dudley. But she was subjected to unannounced inspections for the next four years and ordered to take Dudley to a nutritionist and anger management classes. The neighbors gossiped about that for years.

Morning came and Harry dragged himself out of bed. The heat lightening had woken him up and the remaining ozone in the air was giving him a headache.

He grumbled a bit as he washed up for breakfast. He was hungry and didn't want to miss breakfast. Supper had been something called Yakisoba, noodles and stuff. He didn't do a very good job so Kuma made him go back and do it again.

"Kuma-kun, I'm hungry. I don't want breakfast cleared away before I get some."

Kuma looked at his sulky face and laughed. "You'll get gohan. I promise. You'll never go hungry again. And that hair." He shook his head. "I don't use hair ... stuff. But maybe one of the younger brothers will have something." Kuma knew he was supposed to speak only Japanese to Harry but the poor kid looked so confused that he took pity on him and said things in English then repeated it in Japanese.

"Hair stuff? Like what?"

"Wax, or stuff. I don't know the name. I'll see what I can find. If you don't like it, we'll wash it out again. What can it hurt?"

Harry agreed calmly enough, especially after the promise that they would wash it out.

It didn't take long for Nomura to show up with a tin container of some waxy stuff that slicked Harry's hair back from his forehead and into what Kuma called a pompadour. Harry wasn't sure he liked it as it showed off his scar too much.

Nomura just touched it and asked, "How did you get that?"

Harry puzzled that out and said, "Car wreck. My parents were killed, I got this ..." he pointed to it, "And the Dursleys got me. Sucks."

Kuma made him say it again in Japanese as they headed for breakfast.

Miyamoto looked up as Harry entered, wearing the Manchester United jogging suit and a pair of socks. "You look good, my son. Come! Sit! Eat!"

Harry scrambled into a chair but grinned at his father happily. "Arigato, Otousan. I'm really hungry. Um ... can I have an orange this morning?"

"Yes, an orange is good. And a nice smoked fish." As he spoke Miyamoto put his newspaper down on the table.

Kuma brought a tray with bowls on it and put their food in front of them.

As they ate Miyamoto pointed to various things and said their names in Japanese. Harry obediently repeated the words.

"I am not sure I like that hair. Perhaps if ..." Miyamoto reached over and ran his fingers through Harry's hair, loosening the strands a bit and tugging a lock over his scar. "There! Yes, just like that."

Harry glanced at his image in the mirrored front of a cabinet. "I like that better. Arigato."

"Dou itashi mashite." Miyamoto nodded to Nomura. "Take him away. Amuse him. Show him some manga. Kids like manga, yes?"

"Ok boss. I've got a Yu Yu Hakasho he might like. I'll read it to him. Start him on reading."

"Good, good. You're his body guard. I charge you with his safety. Understand?"

"Yes, boss. I'll take good care of him."

Nomura guided Harry out the door, chattering at him in Japanese.

Kuma and Genji started making plans to get them back home with the least amount of aggravation to Harry.

Nomura took Harry into the parlor where the other three wakashu were reading manga or watching tv. "Hey, asshole, give me that!"

Nomura snatched his manga out of the hands of the wakashu who was reading it. He settled Harry on the couch by dumping the junior man on the floor with a swat. "Go read something else. I am going to read to that one. Teach him something. See?"

"Yeah, I do. But he needs a name. We can't keep calling him by his Westerner name. It's not proper."

Harry was startled to see that the man who had gotten dumped didn't seem the least bit put out. He settled on the couch happily enough though and was pleased to see that Nomura held a comic book in his hands. "Oh, comics, I like comics."

"Manga. Say, manga."

Harry obediently did so and settled to look at the pictures while Nomura read to him. He was startled to realize that the symbols were a whole word, except for some, which were phonetic. He hoped he could learn to read quickly. He made a good start with Nomura, learning enough that he could puzzle out most of what the simpler kanji said.

After reading the whole book, Harry made his first real demand. "I want a Nihon name."

Nomura nodded. "Ho-kay. What?"

"Yusuke. I like it. Ii ne Please? Kudasai?" Harry gave Nomura his best pleading eyes.

"I think so. You like it? Good, good. I'll tell the boss, if he says ok. It's good. You understand?"

Harry wasn't sure exactly what Nomura had said. But part of it was surely ask your father. Oyabun was his Chichi-ue's name. He was puzzled by all the different names for the man, surely he was very important to have so many.

One of the men got up and announced. "I'm going to teach him how to introduce himself properly. Yusuke, look!"

Harry looked up at the man and gave a tentative smile. He smiled back, revealing several gold teeth.

"You say. Hey! You assholes, listen. My name is Miyamoto Yusuke. Pleased to meet you. Be nice to me." The slurred vowels and trilled r's made it sound even more rude than it was, but Harry thought it was wonderful.

The wakashu helped Harry learn it perfectly, even down to the proper stance; a slight bow with his right arm held out, elbow bent, palm facing his chest, left fist on his hip. When he started to bow his head, Nomura chucked him under the chin. "No! You never take your eyes off who you are introducing yourself to. It's rude. Unless you intend to imply that you don't think they are dangerous."

Harry puzzled over that. The only bit he'd understood was 'no' and 'eyes'. He mouthed it over until he could say it. He'd ask Kuma about it later. For now he just said, "Ok."

So it was that Harry introduced himself for the first time in true Yakuza fashion. Miyamoto Musashi was amused. He also privately told Genji to find Harry some tutors so he wouldn't talk like a common yak all the time. He also showered Yusuke with praise and gave him forty pounds. Harry/Yusuke was ecstatic.

Near noon, Kuma went to find Harry who was learning to play Hanafuda.

"Yusuke, come. We are going on the plane to Nihon. We'll be leaving in an hour. You need to pack."

Yusuke stood up. "Ok. I don't have much to pack. It'll all fit in my pack. Help me?"

"Ok. We'll be speaking English to you to help get us through the airport as quickly as possible but don't get used to it."

"Hai, So-honbucho Kuma-sama. I won't." Harry grinned up at the big man who laughed heartily at this.

They packed Harry's things quickly and the boy called Kuma twice on calling him Harry.

The second time nearly sent Kuma into tears, he laughed so hard.

"Oi, tako! Wa tashi no namae wa Yusuke des! Baka!" it sounded so funny for the small boy to be saying, "Hey, you! My name is Yusuke! Idiot!" Especially as the form of you was typically yakuza rude.

"Good, good. You'll be fine. You're getting it already."

"Arigato, Kuma-kun." He jammed the last of his clothing into the bag. "There! All done. How soon are we leaving?"

Kuma glanced at his watch, thinking he'd better repack for Harry before they left. "Soon. About half of an hour. Give me your pack. I'll give it to one of the wakashu to carry for you."



The drive to the airport was quick enough, Miyamoto was glad they didn't have to go through Heathrow, their flight was leaving from Gatwick.

Check in was easy, they just handed everything to a wakashu and sat down. Harry tugged at his Otousan's sleeve. "I'm hungry."

"We eat on plane. Ok?"

"Ok." Yusuke watched people for a while. "How much longer?"

Miyamoto looked at his watch. "About ten minutes. We're all checked in and we don't have to go through security." He smiled at the little boy. "Diplomatic immunity. Come on, I find you snacks."

He got up to take Yusuke to find something to snack on but a sudden commotion down the concourse made them both turn their heads.

The next thing they knew, there was an explosion and Harry had thrown himself between Miyamoto and the concussion. He didn't realize until later that someone had thrown up a shield.


Harry rubbed the bump on his head. "Ow! Otousan! You ok?"

"Yes. What the hell was that?"

No one had time to answer as they were suddenly surrounded by police and medics. Harry was quickly checked over as were all the group. They were declared uninjured. Their papers were examined then they were allowed to get on the plane, after Miyamoto threw one of his elegant tizzies. Harry watched in wonder as the man got his way without raising his voice or getting rude.


As the plane ran down the run way, Harry Potter fell asleep in his seat. He woke up Miyamoto Yusuke, son of Miyamoto Musashi, yakuza Oyabun.