Redemption

Chapter One

I stare down at the cuts in my forearms. All my thoughts seem clouded. All except for one, dancing around my mind crystal clear and daunting. My dad cut off my claws. What do I do? I don't know how to live without my claws. They were a part of me, literally. And then my own father ripped them out. Just as he ripped my mother out of my life. He said he didn't do it. Then, he killed Romulus. The thought makes me stop, suddenly ice cold. Romulus, dead, gone. It didn't seem possible. Romulus always seemed the type to never die, to always be there. And now that childhood thought is gone along with Romulus.

I don't cry, I can't cry. Crying shows weakness. That's what Romulus said. But Romulus is dead, a voice in the back of my head said, why do what he says now? He won't be here to be disappointed. I glance around the shabby apartment room I managed to get. I have a couple more months of rent, food, water, and home bills to pay before Romulus' money runs out. I have to find a job soon or I'll be living on the streets with only a memory of a bed. Won't be too hard, I find myself thinking, I have a healing factor for crying out loud. If I get attacked, I can just walk it out. I look at an almost empty bottle of some liquid I've forgotten lying on the floor, its contents almost reaching a dirty shirt from three days ago. If I need to conserve money, I need to slack back on whatever's in the bottle. It helps that I've forgotten.

I stand up off my bed and walk to the bathroom mirror. My hair is longer and it looks like I'm growing the beginnings of one of the most shabbiest beards in existence. Who am I? My run down reflection watches me, as if waiting for an answer. I am Daken. I tell myself. I am Daken, son of Logan. I am the son of the Wolverine.

I try not to make eye contact with anyone. I don't want anyone seeing Logan in me. I don't want that connection. The few people who know me know me as Akihiro, my foster parents' last name. It's fine by me. I'm sick of being 'Daken' or 'boy' or 'son'. I am not a boy or a son. I am only Daken, a name already well used.

My thoughts are still fogged and misty, the only thoughts crystal clear in my mind are those of my father, my mother, and Romulus. They are the most painful.

I do not need the X-Men. They are my father's people, not mine.

I look at myself in the mirror again. My long neck-to-arm tattoo stands out more than ever. I rub my face and sigh. Why am I like this? My mind wanders, as it so often does, to what it had been like before my mother died. I would have never met my foster parents, or Romulus. I would have lived in Japan with her, or in Canada with my dad. Logan doesn't live in Canada anymore. I remind myself. He lives in Utopia, with the X-men.

I've always wanted to go to Utopia. I've always wanted to see my father's home. I don't worry about the other X-men. They won't hurt me. I know for a fact Logan doesn't want them too. Why does he hold back from killing me? He knows I wouldn't.

I yell mental curses at myself for thinking of Logan. If you don't like it, Romulus had told me once, stop thinking about it. It had seemed so easy when he said it, but now, hands gripping the edge of the sink so hard they were turning white, I couldn't get Logan out of my head. So, I use my old tactic. Logan, dead. It helps.

I need a job.

Getting a job was harder than I expected. Finally, after at least two weeks, I sucred myself my first ever job. I work at a bar. Not as the barman, but as one of those guys who gets the alcohol when it arrives. It's a boring job but at least it's a job. I don't get paid as much as the barman. Obviously. My first day on the job was just a bunch of waiting around, but my new boss said I did well. I'll get my first paycheck at the end of the month. I lived like this for a little over half a year, using all of Romulus' money, before something big happened. Something very very bad.

It was snowing outside and a cold wind was whipping through the alley I was in. I couldn't help shivering along with my co-workers. Then, something went flying past us and hit some trash cans, knocking them down. We all stepped back, watching the figure struggle in the trash cans. Finally, Josh, one of my co-workers, braved a couple steps forward.

"Are you okay?" he called to the figure between the cans. "Do you need help?"

The figure stopped dead, hand raised, ready to push a trash can out of the way.

"Run," said the figure, clearly male. "Run before they get to you,"

Josh was blasted to the side, making two of my co-workers yell and the rest of us to jump back. Josh hit the ground and didn't get back up.

"Josh!" someone yelled.

I wiped around towards an nearing figure wearing all metal. What is he wearing? Is that even legal past Halloween? Then another thought struck me as the man wearing metal neared. He's a mutant. I snap my head towards the man, making my neck pop. The man had now successfully stood up. He was wearing something metal over his eyes. He's an X-man. My blood runs ice cold. He knows my father.

"Get out of here!" the X-man yells at me and my co-workers. "This isn't the place for you! Go somewhere safe!"

My co-workers bolt out of the alley, leaving me frozen in the snow. One of them looks back.

"DAKEN!" they yell. "GET OUT OF THERE!"

I turn and before I can run the X-man speaks.

"Logan?"