Status: Weekly updates
Akatsuki Princess
I have a...Daddy?
After what seemed like forever, I was thrown to the ground. “What’s this?” I heard a new voice, but there was no reply. The bag was untied and I heard a door open and close. I cautiously climbed out of the bag and found myself staring at a large, mahogany desk. I stood up and looked at the person behind the ornate piece of furniture.
Sitting before me in a fancy chair, was a man that didn’t seem to fit his surroundings. He looked like he used to be a punk when he was younger. His face was covered in piercings, and his flaming orange hair was shocking against his white skin, quite like my own. He wore a long cloak, just like the man who brought me here: black with red clouds on it. His eyes were a mixture of shock and anger.
Overcoming my shock, I regained my composure and bowed, so as not to be disrespectful in the Japanese custom. I heard his chair scrape and looked up. The man in front of me stood and bowed back at me. He walked around the desk and inspected me, walking around me. Then he sighed. “Wrong child,” I heard him mutter.
“What?” I said, forgetting myself. “What do you mean ‘wrong child’!” I immediately regretted my outburst and covered my mouth.
The man looked shocked. “You speak Japanese?” He asked me, surprised. “I was informed otherwise.”
“I speak Japanese quite fluently. As a young child I was around anime and other Japanese things. One of the kids in the orphanage was Japanese and wanted to learn the culture and language. I was a curious kid, so I often tagged along. I answered your question; now it’s your turn. What do you mean wrong child?”
The pierced man sighed again. “I’m looking for my daughter. She should be about twelve now, not nine or ten.”
I rolled my eyes. “I am twelve. I’m just tiny. But you’re right: I’m not your kid. My parents are both dead.”
Something I said piqued his interest. “What’s your name, child?”
“Phoenix Sheridan Mitsurugi. It’s my mother’s surname. My dad died before I was born, apparently, so my mom gave me her name. She died in childbirth. I’ve been at the Smee’s Home for Abandoned Children ever since.”
The man’s eyes widened. “Mitsurugi?” he breathed. “I thought you looked like her. Sweetheart, your father didn’t die. The relationship ended and your mother moved, never telling me she was pregnant.”
My mind went numb. This guy was my dad? Has my whole life been a lie? I scrutinized the man in front of me. I guess he could look like me a little. I have his hair, that’s for sure, and his pale complexion. But his grey, target-looking eyes were nothing like my bright cat-like green. Why haven’t I known him my whole life? Why was I born in America? Why did they tell me he was dead?
“So you’re my dad?” I asked cutting him off, not realizing he was still talking. He quieted, staring at me curiously.
“Is that all you’ve heard?” I nodded in response. “Very well. Yes, I’m your father. My name is Pein, and I am the leader of the Akatsuki. As I was saying: your mother decided to end the relationship without telling me she was pregnant. She moved to America to have the baby quietly, and then abandoned her, you.
“I ran into her a year ago while on a…job. I recognized her in a teahouse, and since my feelings for her never really went away, I asked to buy her lunch. The subject of our relationship came up and I asked why she ended it. That’s when the truth came out.
“When I learned I had a daughter that I was never told about, I nearly killed her on the spot. I would’ve gotten you sooner, but she refused to tell me where you were. I searched all over the United States of America to find you. When I finally did, I seized the chance. I want to get to know you, Kamiko,” he finished.
“Kamiko?” I asked. “Is that a pet name or something?”
He smiled. “No, I’m sorry. I just, I always wanted a daughter. I told myself that if I was ever lucky enough to have one, I would name her Kamiko. It means “little goddess” and I’ve always thought it was pretty. I apologize, I’ll use your American name.”
“No, no!” I assured him. “I love the name. It’s beautiful, really. I want to be called Kamiko.”
Sitting before me in a fancy chair, was a man that didn’t seem to fit his surroundings. He looked like he used to be a punk when he was younger. His face was covered in piercings, and his flaming orange hair was shocking against his white skin, quite like my own. He wore a long cloak, just like the man who brought me here: black with red clouds on it. His eyes were a mixture of shock and anger.
Overcoming my shock, I regained my composure and bowed, so as not to be disrespectful in the Japanese custom. I heard his chair scrape and looked up. The man in front of me stood and bowed back at me. He walked around the desk and inspected me, walking around me. Then he sighed. “Wrong child,” I heard him mutter.
“What?” I said, forgetting myself. “What do you mean ‘wrong child’!” I immediately regretted my outburst and covered my mouth.
The man looked shocked. “You speak Japanese?” He asked me, surprised. “I was informed otherwise.”
“I speak Japanese quite fluently. As a young child I was around anime and other Japanese things. One of the kids in the orphanage was Japanese and wanted to learn the culture and language. I was a curious kid, so I often tagged along. I answered your question; now it’s your turn. What do you mean wrong child?”
The pierced man sighed again. “I’m looking for my daughter. She should be about twelve now, not nine or ten.”
I rolled my eyes. “I am twelve. I’m just tiny. But you’re right: I’m not your kid. My parents are both dead.”
Something I said piqued his interest. “What’s your name, child?”
“Phoenix Sheridan Mitsurugi. It’s my mother’s surname. My dad died before I was born, apparently, so my mom gave me her name. She died in childbirth. I’ve been at the Smee’s Home for Abandoned Children ever since.”
The man’s eyes widened. “Mitsurugi?” he breathed. “I thought you looked like her. Sweetheart, your father didn’t die. The relationship ended and your mother moved, never telling me she was pregnant.”
My mind went numb. This guy was my dad? Has my whole life been a lie? I scrutinized the man in front of me. I guess he could look like me a little. I have his hair, that’s for sure, and his pale complexion. But his grey, target-looking eyes were nothing like my bright cat-like green. Why haven’t I known him my whole life? Why was I born in America? Why did they tell me he was dead?
“So you’re my dad?” I asked cutting him off, not realizing he was still talking. He quieted, staring at me curiously.
“Is that all you’ve heard?” I nodded in response. “Very well. Yes, I’m your father. My name is Pein, and I am the leader of the Akatsuki. As I was saying: your mother decided to end the relationship without telling me she was pregnant. She moved to America to have the baby quietly, and then abandoned her, you.
“I ran into her a year ago while on a…job. I recognized her in a teahouse, and since my feelings for her never really went away, I asked to buy her lunch. The subject of our relationship came up and I asked why she ended it. That’s when the truth came out.
“When I learned I had a daughter that I was never told about, I nearly killed her on the spot. I would’ve gotten you sooner, but she refused to tell me where you were. I searched all over the United States of America to find you. When I finally did, I seized the chance. I want to get to know you, Kamiko,” he finished.
“Kamiko?” I asked. “Is that a pet name or something?”
He smiled. “No, I’m sorry. I just, I always wanted a daughter. I told myself that if I was ever lucky enough to have one, I would name her Kamiko. It means “little goddess” and I’ve always thought it was pretty. I apologize, I’ll use your American name.”
“No, no!” I assured him. “I love the name. It’s beautiful, really. I want to be called Kamiko.”