Sleeping at Dawn, Encountering Shadows, Fighting with Everything He Had but Unable to Win

Harry ran swiftly toward the alley Kane had gone into.

The moment Kane saw Harry running over, he knew what Harry wanted—to take him back to the Dursley household.

In Kane's heart, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley were both decent people. After all, they had brought home Kane, who had only just arrived in this world, and cared for him for a month without asking for anything in return.

Never mind that he had lived in the cupboard under the stairs. At least it had sheltered him from the wind and rain. Kane was deeply grateful to them, but gratitude aside, he truly did not want to live with them. The Dursleys' talent for emotional abuse was enough to shorten a person's life.

Harry could put up with it because Harry was exceptionally gifted. Kane did not have that gift.

Before long, Harry charged into the alley where Kane was hiding. Kane was crouched behind an abandoned car, watching Harry approach through the rearview mirror. With a thought, the shadows he had fused with throughout the alley slowly twisted into several distinctly un-cute little dogs. They sprang from the darkness and barked furiously at Harry.

Harry frowned and picked up an iron pipe from the ground to bolster his courage. "Kane, come out. Let's go back. Uncle Vernon only said that in the heat of the moment. Aunt Petunia even asked Mrs. Figg about where you'd gone. If you come back, they'll both choose to forget it ever happened."

Kane walked out from behind the car with some helplessness. "More likely, they'll laugh at me. I don't like that feeling."

Harry sounded equally helpless. "So what if it's emotional abuse? At least you get enough to eat every day and have somewhere sheltered to sleep."

Kane refused to yield. "This place isn't bad either. So what if there's wind, sun, rain, and no food? At least no one here emotionally abuses me."

For the first time, Harry found himself saying these words. "Can't you be a little more mature?"

Kane shook his head. "I have been mature. What maturity taught me was that it brings no benefit to your mental well-being. For that tiny bit of material comfort, I really can't stand making my fragile mind dance on blades. So, Harry, go home and eat. Otherwise, Dudley might finish your share too."

Harry shook his head hard. "You're coming back with me!"

Kane sighed. Bribery had failed, so it was time for intimidation.

"If you don't go back, these two things might bite you." As soon as Kane finished speaking, he controlled the two shadow beasts and sent them charging at Harry. Of course, he had no intention of truly hurting him. He merely used the shadows to blind Harry for a while.

"All right, go home, Harry. Go home." Kane walked toward Harry, intending to help him out of the alley.

Harry panicked for a moment when he was suddenly blinded, but he quickly realized Kane had probably done this. He had long known that Kane, like himself, was different from ordinary people. Harry himself had once made a pane of glass disappear without warning, and had fallen from great heights without suffering the slightest injury.

Before this, the only unusual thing about Kane in Harry's eyes had been his shadow, which sometimes bared its teeth and claws before swiftly returning to normal. This sensation of being unable to see anything was probably the first time he had experienced Kane's strange power.

Once he confirmed that Kane had caused this odd condition, he was no longer afraid. He immediately grabbed the hand resting on his shoulder and tried to drag Kane out of the alley.

"Harry, you really are stubborn." Kane controlled the eerie shadow claws, having them imitate the force of his resistance as Harry gradually dragged him out of the alley.

Before long, as his sight returned, Harry gradually felt that the "Kane" behind him was struggling less fiercely. He relaxed somewhat and glanced back. But where was Kane?

The hand he had been gripping so tightly was nothing more than a pitch-black shadow. And now, that shadow abruptly vanished as well.

Oh, it had not disappeared completely. The shadow formed a mouth and spoke in Kane's voice.

"Bye-bye, Harry. I still have somewhere to go. Sayonara."

Harry gritted his teeth. "Can't you just speak English?"

The moment Harry finished speaking, the last trace of Kane's shadow vanished with a bang.

"Fine, fine, fine..." Harry gritted his teeth and stared at the now-empty alley behind him. "Just pray I don't find you, you evil little shadow-playing brat. I swear I'll..."

Harry suddenly paused. "If I can beat you by then, I'll make you regret it!"

Kane had no idea that his abrupt decision to run away from home had landed him on Harry's personal kill list. At that moment, he had arrived at a rundown, somewhat disreputable motel.

Respectable places had their advantages, mainly safety. Disreputable places had their own advantages too—for example, Kane could rent a small room with money even without identification.

Still, to avoid attracting the attention of the shady motel owner, Kane had found an alley beforehand and hidden most of the money he had earned performing magic in secret pockets sewn into his clothes. He kept only a small, messy amount in his visible pockets, making himself look like a poor child who could not produce a second coin from anywhere on his body. It was an effective precaution against a midnight visit from a blackhearted owner.

"Sir, how long can I stay with this much money?" At the motel counter, Kane dumped a pile of crumpled banknotes and coins onto the surface. The owner took one glance and roughly calculated the amount. "About two days. Private bathroom. No breakfast, lunch, or dinner."

Kane did the math in his head. Fifty pounds for two days—roughly the normal rate.

He took the key and found his room. Overall, it was fairly decent. It was small but not cramped. After washing up, he threw himself directly onto the bed. He had been tired enough today. It was time to sleep.

Meanwhile, Harry returned to the Dursley household and dejectedly opened the door, closed it, and took off his shoes.

Vernon, who was watching television, said gruffly, "There's food in the kitchen. You two eat and get to bed!"

As he spoke, he switched off the television and headed upstairs, as though allowing Harry and Kane even the slightest entertainment in his house was unforgivable. He did not even want them to hear the sound of the television.

"Kane didn't come back. It's just me." Harry sadly picked up his own portion.

Vernon stopped halfway up the stairs. "He didn't come back? Where is he now?"

Harry lowered his head even further, his nose almost touching his plate. "I don't know."

Vernon frowned, then quickly gave a cold snort. "Let him freeze for one night. He'll come slinking back tomorrow, guaranteed. Throw his share in the bin!"

Without another look back, he went upstairs.

Harry looked at the plate that should have belonged to Kane. With resentment, he roughly dragged it over, violently speared the food with his fork, and shoved it into his mouth. It was as though the sausages were Kane's flesh, and there was an indescribable brutality in every bite.

In the end, with a crunch, he bit his own tongue. Tears and blood flowed out together in an instant, whether from pain or something else.

After dinner, Harry lay sobbing in the little cupboard beneath the stairs. His breathing trembled as he stared at the low "ceiling" above him and listened to the laughter upstairs, utterly untouched by sorrow. He seemed to understand why Kane would rather suffer outside than return.

Meanwhile, in the motel, Kane had been sleeping soundly when something strange suddenly stabbed him with pain for an instant. He abruptly opened his eyes.

"It's Charlie," he murmured.