His Spring Symphony

Chapter Forty One: Play Dirty, You Get Dirty

[AN] Enjoy this chapter. Being a senior in college is tough and I'm always busy and tired. UGH.

- Amni

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       Some said the Rogues' leader was a son of the highest ganglord that has soon forgotten. But some said that he was a bastard child, born in a harsh neighborhood of Brooklyn. Some even said that their leader was younger than Hunter Laskov himself.

      All had their truths and their faults. The Rogues' leader was not born from an old gang that had been forgotten nor he was a bastard child. He was Ash Lockhart, true, younger than Hunter Laskov, a Russian gang member from Brooklyn, by two years. He was born in Maine into its harsh neighbourhood. Mother ran away from home after he was born and since then was under his dad's care. There were no grandparents existed like he told his ex-girlfriend, nor a loving paternal figure.

      He grew up with nothing but old cereal in his kitchen cabinet, waiting days, weeks, months for his dad to come home from his work with food. He knew that old man got paid well most times but he wore tattered clothes, drank cheap beers and smoked cigarettes that he would burn on Ash's skin out of boredom.

     One day when Ash Lockhart was thirteen, his dad came home with a smile on his face. The man promised Ash that he would buy anything he wished. Ash wished for pizza near the outskirt of their town. They went there and his dad ordered five different topping with three different flavors of milkshakes. When small Ash devoured his food, he dad dug his bag and presented him a present. He expected cigarette or his beating but he gave his drumsticks. Somewhat odd from a man who didn't have musical talent, nor a son whom only watch tv to forget he was hungry. Yet, a child he was, Ash was more than happy that his dad gave him things. He promised himself to learn so his dad could be proud.

     After that, his world went dark. He loved his dad, no matter how many beatings he got, he was the only one Ash had left. But that same night when he was devouring food that normal kids would buy every single day if they parents let them, his dad drove him somewhere he never went.

     They stopped at what it seemed to be like a usual manufacturing building. But, in front of the door stood a huge man, smoking cigars and Ash was certain he was smiling at him when the car stopped.

     He dad held his hand, dragging him to the big man. My money. His dad said, along the way to the man.

      Ash then saw two briefcases when they were near. Here, the man said. When his dad got hold of the briefcases, he pushed Ash to the man. He fell. From now, you're under his care, he said. Don't find me again, be good to him and you will get treated well.

     Ash did not cry or begged his dad to not leave him. He got up after his dad drove away and waited the huge man knelt before him and introduced himself. Malcolm, his name was.

    I will kill him, Ash said to him. Malcolm smiled at him, almost fatherly. When you reach an age, he cooed, for now, sleep, eat until you full, and get prepared.

     And so, a new member joined Malcolm's bands of abandon boys.

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Three years ago. Aproximently two months after Kiseki Hinata's death.

     No. No. No. No!

     Ash screamed. His voice echoed through the hall of his residence that has been his for nine years.

       His son of a bitch of a father died! And Ash wasn't the one who killed him!