Witch Hunter Robin Fan Fiction ❯ I Cannot Offer You Freedom ❯ Chapter 4 ( Chapter 4 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

I Cannot Offer You Freedom


"Miro Yukimora. 34 years old. White male." Michael's voice sounded loud in the silence of the meeting room, all eyes intent on his slender form. "Obviously, he's a witch, otherwise we wouldn't be bothering with him."

Sakaki snorted and Doujima rolled her eyes. Amon didn't even spare them a glance. "What's his power?" Zaizen asked stepping into the room.

"Sir?" Michael asked, confused.

"Forgive me Michael, I didn't have the time to discover anything about him for myself, before I joined you here. I've been busy with . . . other things."

Michael just nodded and tapped at the keyboard for a few moments. When his fingers stopped, his eyes began roaming the screen, finding what he was looking for and then blinking rapidly several times.

"Yes?" his boss prompted, slightly impatient.

"Well, um . . . it's just-" he turned to look up at the tall older man. "He . . . he can fly sir."

Zaizen's eyes took on a skeptical look and Doujima burst out laughing. "A flying witch?! Does he use a broomstick, or does he just flap his arms?!" Her loud laughter echoed in the small room.

The hacker's cheeks went pink and he risked flicking his eyes towards Robin. She gave him a small reassuring smile and he nodded at her in return, turning away at the sound of Zaizen's voice.

"A flying witch?" But there was no trace of Doujima's mockery to be found in his voice. The serious tone deadened all other small noises, the lazy girl's laughter having finally ceased. "Well that could pose a few problems, but nothing too serious, this shouldn't be too hard for you guys. Amon!" He turned to the dark witch hunter. "Head on out as soon as possible."

Amon nodded and the head of the STN-J left the room, presumably going back to his own office. Michael continued to remain motionless in front of the terminal, even as the others filed out, Amon in the lead. Robin paused before she went out and tapped his shoulder gently. "Something wrong?"

He jumped slightly, as if he hadn't noticed her presence and shook his head; his blue eyes, however, remained riveted on the screen. "No, I'm alright, I just have a bad feeling about this one. I'm gonna do a little extra research and see what comes up."

Robin nodded and left him alone. The rest of the STN-J team knew better then to bother Michael when he was searching for something; he may not have come to work with them by choice, but he was intent on the work and he was thorough. Now, he had entered another one of his information-finding modes, fingers flying, head tilted forward, eyes flicking over the screen reading letters and numbers too fast for anyone else to catch. His headphones blared loud music that could be heard even from a few feet away. There he goes again.

But later that night, after the others had left, Michael was still sitting by the same computer, tying away. The team had stayed in that day, on account of Michael's premonition and desire to find more information. With no real work to do, they had gone home early, early even for Doujima.

Even after hours of sitting before a screen, Michael's eyes never faltered. They scanned and absorbed almost everything that appeared and disappeared in front of them, no matter how fast; it was a little trick one picked up after so many months of doing the same.

A file popped up on his screen, and the nimble fingers grew still over the dark keys. "Bingo," he whispered, leaning forward even more and beginning to scroll through the document. The first part was mostly things he had already found out; the man had a criminal record, violent temper, reputation for causing trouble wherever he went . . .

Suddenly, his eyes froze, mouth parting open in a strangled sound of surprise. His hands flew up to his face and he stood up, stumbling backwards and almost tripping over the chair. Hot, stinging tears formed in the corners of his eyes and he felt his stomach heave. Running from the room, he emptied its contents into the toilet, breath coming in harsh pants.

That witch had murdered his mother.


With a gasp, Robin sat up in bed, clutching the blankets to her chest. Confused, she rubbed a slender hand through the thin film of sweat covering her forehead then tried to remember her reason for awakening so suddenly. Finally writing it off as a nightmare, she lay back down and rolled over, getting comfortable beneath the warm sheets.

But sleep would not come.

The blonde-haired witch hunter lay awake the rest of the early morning, watching as the crimson dawn colored the sky like blood.


. . . *blinks* Wow. I never expected so much positive feedback from everyone! Thank you SO much to all you who reviewed, it helps me more then you know! I love hearing what everyone thinks, and now that I know you seem to like it this much, I'll try and write a little faster. ^_~ Wow, thanks again! You guys are the greatest!