It's been awhile, hasn't it? It didn't get a lot of attention, so I debated whether or not I should continue it. But I really loved Hitomi, and I couldn't stand the thought of abandoning her. So, reviews or no, here it goes.

It Must Run in the Family

Ban and Ginji woke early the next morning. When Ginji rapped on Paul's door, however, Emily answered almost immediately, already fully dressed. Even her make-up was in place, and her hair bound up so that it looked deceptively short.

Ban kept a blank expression plastered on his face, and tried not to look at the tiny figure in the bed across the room. He felt Ginji's anxious stare, but ignored it.

"Is she still asleep, Emily-san?" Ginji's voice was so quiet that Ban scarcely heard him.

"She had a long day yesterday."

Gesturing toward the desk near the window, she indicated a very German-style breakfast. Hot, steaming bread and various fruit spreads were laid out on the desk, accompanied by juice and, unsurprisingly, a half-full pot of coffee. Ginji's eyes lit up at the sight, and he dove for the food without another word.

"Ban-kun?" Emily touched his arm lightly.

"I'm not hungry."

"You are," Emily disagreed, her voice very soft, "but it will keep." She pursed her lips, a thoughtful look in her eyes.

"Did you want me to tell her?" she asked gently.

Ban's eyes disobeyed him and stole a glimpse of Hitomi's golden head. No matter how he tried to look away, a hunger within demanded satisfaction, and he found himself searching for Lia, searching for himself, in that small white face. He wasn't certain whether he wanted the answer he was looking for, but it was there. Lia's small, full mouth, and her sweetly heart-shaped face belied the truth, as did his father's eyes, eyes that were less Japanese than German in shape, but nonetheless sharply cornered and deeply set, like his own. "No," he answered finally. "I'll tell her. Just let her sleep for now."

Emily nodded. "Paul and I have been discussing our best options for getting Hitomi out of Germany," she said, changing the subject.

"Rosenthal won't be looking for a single woman with a little girl anymore," Ban commented.

"Well, no, he knows Paul is here. He knows nothing about the two of you, however. We think you should take her back to Japan. Paul and I will deal with Rosenthal."

He managed to tear his eyes away from the girl – from his daughter, he reminded himself ruthlessly. A bitter resentment swelled in him against Lia; he tried to quash it and focus on the present. "I have my own scores to settle with that bastard."

"I realize that, Ban-kun, but your revenge is not worth the danger to Hitomi."

"Are you saying I should let the murderer of my child's mother go unpunished?" He bristled. He was spoiling for a fight, and he knew it, but couldn't stop himself.

"Lia died placing the needs of that child above her own. I want Rosenthal taken down as much as you do, but not if it means putting Hitomi in further danger." She crossed her arms, calm and implacable.

"And when she wants to know what happened to the sonovabitch that left her stuck with me?" He glared at her, daring her to challenge him again.

"That he will never harm anyone again. Paul and I will see to that, you have my word."

"He captured you once already."

"He got lucky."

"And if he gets lucky again?"

"He won't."

"You don't know him like I do!" Ban bit his tongue to prevent anymore of that dark memory escaping.

"Oh, I'm afraid you're quite wrong, Ban-kun." Emily's eyebrows rose. "I know Rosenthal much, much more intimately than I care to. As well as Lia ever did. And probably better than you do, come to think of it."

Ban froze, and even Ginji paused mid-chomp.

"Your father and Paul tangled with him once before. It's how I met the first Get Backers; they rescued me from him."

Her voice had become hard, glittering with age-old sufferings and resurfacing hatreds. "I was abandoned at an orphanage in Berlin the day I was born, and just under four years later, I ran away. One of Rosenthal's thugs found me in the streets, and I spent two years with the bastard before Paul and your father found me caged in his townhouse. Aside from stealing his favorite 'toy,' the Get Backers tricked Rosenthal out of billions. They ruined his position as kingpin in Berlin, a position he has had to regain inch by painful inch, for over two decades. He hates the Get Backers.

"Right now, the only connection he knows of between Hitomi and himself is that one of his former 'toys' was her mother, and that another of his 'toys' is her Keeper. I know you've had your own encounters with him – and you're damned lucky he didn't recognize you for der Kaiser's son back then. Can you imagine what he would do to her, if he were to find out who her father is? Who your father was?"

"Damn you." He couldn't look at her, because she was right, and he knew it.

"I'm sorry, Ban-kun. But Hitomi must be taken to Japan, and hidden there. Paul and I can't do it. Rosenthal knows us both; his goons no doubt have our pictures and personal information. You and Ginji are the only ones with a shot at getting her out safely – and the longer we wait, the longer that shot becomes. You look an awful lot like your father, Ban-kun, and Rosenthal has a good reason to remember der Kaiser's face."

"You've made your point, damn you. I'll take her."

Emily nodded in satisfaction. "Good. We'll remain at the airport until you've boarded, to watch your backs."

"Separately, of course," Ban said absently, eyes glued to his sleeping daughter.

"Of course." She frowned. "I should probably dye her hair, and cut it. This may be Germany, but a number of them have seen her, and that honey brown is fairly distinctive."

Ban slid his eyes toward Emily. "No. We'll cover it with a hood, or a wig." The thought of purposefully changing her hair – Lia's golden hair – hurt in places he'd forgotten existed. It would be like denying Lia, somehow, denying that that one night of loneliness and comfort had come to pass. And he couldn't do it.

"I really think – "

"I said to leave it alone!"

A wide-eyed Ginji nudged his side. "Ban-chan," he said, a little timidly, "you woke her up."

His head spun as his eyes flew to the bed, where Hitomi was sitting up, a terrible scowl on her small face.

"Who are you?" she demanded. She tumbled out from beneath the covers, and her tiny feet raced along the carpeted floor to Emily. She glared up at him. "Why are you yelling at Emily-san?"

"Just a disagreement, sweetheart," Emily said, stroking the little girl's hair. "Ban-kun here is a friend of Paul's."

"Oh." The reproachful glare faded away, and her too-familiar blue eyes became filled with curiosity. "I'm Hitomi," she said, by way of introduction.

Ban's tongue felt like sandpaper in his mouth, rough and dry, and not at all an instrument of human speech.

"He's Midou Ban," Ginji answered brightly, dropping down out of his chair to sit cross-legged beside Hitomi. "And I'm Amano Ginji."

She blinked. "You have crumbs on your cheek," she informed him primly. "And jelly on your chin. And in your hair."

"Oops." He swiped at the remains of his breakfast. "Thanks for saying something," he added, with a half-amused look at Ban. She nodded, but said nothing more.

Ban watched the exchange with a sense of bemusement. None of it seemed real.

"You shouldn't yell at people, Midou-san." She was looking at him again.

Ginji and Emily watched him expectantly. Just at that moment, the bathroom door swung open, and Paul emerged, half-dressed. Droplets of moisture still clung to his lean frame, and his strawberry curls were long and heavy with water.

"Already up, are you? I thought for sure you lazy bums would still be asleep." He smiled at them, but his grin slipped away as he realized that Hitomi was also awake.

Emily shot him an irritated frown, and he raised his brows innocently and shrugged, a silent, 'how was I supposed to know?'

"Hitomi," Ban said then, forcing words past his seemingly immobile tongue. "Come sit outside with me for a minute."

She looked at Emily for direction; the petite blonde nodded encouragingly. With a shrug, she stretched her arms up, as if asking to be held.

His heart skipped a beat, but he managed to control the trembling in his right hand as he reached down to take one of her tiny hands in his, opting not to carry her. The snake within purred at the touch, and if he had still harbored any doubts, that would have rid him of them. It recognized his heir, coiling back in rage, spitting dire warnings to unseen enemies as it sensed the danger surrounding her.

She frowned at his touch, and he wondered if she'd felt anything. Holding her hand uneasily, as if it might suddenly burst into flame, he led her to the door and out into the pale grey dawn.

"I miss her." Hitomi sat with her knees pulled up to her chest beneath the window, and Ban sat beside her, his long limbs unconsciously echoing her pose. She seemed to have taken the news well, but Ban could already see that she'd inherited his useful, if sometimes self-destructive habit of concealing her emotions.

What was he supposed to say to such a thing? Lia may or may not have been a great mother, but she was the only parent Hitomi had ever known. She was the one who watched her first steps, heard her first words, seen her first smile. And Lia was – had been – very intelligent. She'd learned the ropes of motherhood quickly, he felt sure. The scraped knees, the monsters under the bed, she'd have breezed right through them. And she would have known what to say right now.

"As long as you're alive," Ban heard himself saying, "as long as you remember her, there's a part of her still here." Midei had said that about Yamato once, and he repeated the thought to Hitomi almost woodenly, despising himself for not being able to find anything original to cosole her with. Ginji was wrong. He was going to suck at parenthood.

Just like he sucked at comforting hurt people. Ginji knew him well enough to interpret his unspoken reassurances, most of the time, but this golden-haired child wasn't Ginji, wasn't anything like Ginji. She needed support, from him, from her father, not from Emily, or Ginji, or even Paul, any of whom would have been better at this than he was.

"You know what I miss most?" she asked, breaking into his thoughts. She looked into the sky, where the sun struggled to make itself known behind a smoky blanket of clouds. "I miss her hair."

She looked up at him, waiting for an answer. There was a shine in her eyes, but no tears fell.

He couldn't stand it, that sorrow trying to express itself, being forced back by someone so young. Closing his own eyes, he dropped his head back against the wall. "It was a lot like yours."

A rustle of clothes told him that she was shaking her head. "No. Mom's always smelled like lavender. And vanilla. And she never put it up, like Emily-san does. She always left it long."

She'd worn it up often in the House of Lilies. But Midei never had.

"She used to," Ban answered carefully. "But a friend of ours always left her hair down. Probably your mom was thinking of her."

"I think I won't put mine up, either." The sentence wasn't quite a question, but it was obvious she expected a response of some kind.

"That's one way to remember her."

He cracked an eye open, and was surprised to see Hitomi looking at him. "How are you going to remember her?"

They stared at one another for awhile, and while they sat there, the rain began to fall again, drowning out the fragile sunlight. A cold wind crept up on them, and sent a shiver down Ban's back.

"I'm going to look at you," he said finally. "That's how I'm going to remember Lia."

Much to his surprise, that seemed to be the right thing to say, because the little girl moved closer to him. "Then you probably shouldn't let Emily-san cut my hair, like she was talking about last night."

"No. No one's going to cut your hair."

She wormed her way under his arm and was quiet for a long moment. Her small body felt peculiarly comfortable, nestled against his side. He leaned back against the wall, watching the rain.

"Your eyes look like mom's sad eyes." Vividly blue eyes searched his face, again looking for a response.

He almost snorted – him, sad? But she was a warm, soft, vulnerable presence, and he bit down a reflexive urge to defend himself against accusations of humanity. "Your mom saw a lot of life that no one should ever have to see," he said instead.

She nodded, her head resting against his ribs, and he wondered how much of Lia's past was known to her daughter.

"Have you?"

Ban's hands strayed to the little girl's upper arm and shoulder, and he rubbed them both with long, firm strokes. "Yes."

"I'm sorry." Her voice finally cracked. Looking down, he saw a long, wet trail of a tear sparkling in the weak light. She saw him look, and buried her face in his side, wrapping her arms around as much of his waist as they would encircle. "I'm sorry."

He let her cry, while he panicked over what exactly he ought to be doing. He knew, better than anyone, words were often hollow, without a genuine feeling or insight behind them. Midei would have known what to say, what to do to comfort her. Hell, Ginji would have known.

But she was crying for him, and maybe for Lia, and not because she was lonely or grieving. She was holding him so tightly, as if trying to protect him from whatever her youthful imagination could paint as things 'no one should ever have to see.' It was something Ginji might have done.

Ginji… Ginji was an awful lot like a big kid, sometimes. Maybe he could get away with treating her like a little Ginji.

He smiled, resting a hand on her golden head. "Silly. Like I need a little kid crying over me."

She sniffled and turned her face up to look at him, blinking away tears. "He isn't going to get away with it, is he?"

Involuntarily his arms tightened around her tiny body. "No."

Sniffling again, she relaxed her hold on him, though she stayed nestled deeply into his side. "Good."

"Ginji – my friend with the food on his face – and I are going to take you back to Japan with us. Emily and Paul are going to deal with Rosenthal." He hated himself for saying that, because he should have been the one to take Rosenthal out, but he saw no way out of his current predicament. Hitomi had to come first.

"I don't want to go to Japan," she answered softly. "I want to see that guy get what he deserves."

"Me too, kid. It's just not in the cards."

"In the cards?" Through the wet stripes of her tears, she wrinkled her nose a little in confusion.

"Fortune-tellers sometimes read cards to predict the future. So, saying something 'isn't in the cards' means that it isn't going to happen."

"I don't believe in fortune-telling," she told him seriously. He smiled a little at that.

"Me neither."

"So just because it's "not in the cards" doesn't mean it can't happen, right?"

"It's a phrase. Not supposed to be taken literally."

"Mom always said we make our own futures."

We all make our own futures. Another of Midei's life-lessons.

"She was right."

"So why do you and I have to leave, again?"

Ban bit the inside of his cheek. The little girl was making it harder and harder for him to be content with Emily's plan. With a sudden flash of insight, he stared down at her.

"That's not going to work, kid," he said, surprising himself with the sternness in his tone. "You can't manipulate me into letting you stay. It's too dangerous. I think you're intelligent enough to know that."

She pulled away, just a little, to look up. Behind the innocent blankness of her stare, he saw wheels turning.

Despite himself, he laughed. "You're really, really good, though. For a kid."

"I don't want to leave. I want Rosenthal." Every trace of sadness was gone from her voice, which had become angry and flat.

"So do I. But that doesn't change the fact that it's dangerous."

She seized his right hand in hers, and began to squeeze. He winced, but although her grip was powerful, his was stronger. He squeezed tightly enough to keep her from breaking his hand, careful not to overdo it.

"I'm not just a helpless little kid, you know. And I wasn't asleep through all of that, either. I know you want Rosenthal. I'll stay out of the way, I promise. I just want to be there."

Ban shook his head, thinking quickly. Hitomi was only four, but she already she had proven more cunning than most adults he knew, and definitely functioning on a much higher level than she ought to be.

Genius must run the in the family, he thought, with a peculiar sense of pride.

"Look, even if you could convince me, kid, Emily would never go for it."

"She isn't my mom," Hitomi said evenly, although he didn't miss the shadow that passed over her eyes. "You're the one who gets to decide."

"She's carrying out your mother's wishes," Ban said weakly. Damn, she was good.

"So what you want doesn't matter at all?" she challenged. "Or what I want?"

"Nope. I've got a responsibility to your mom, just like Emily does, and I've got one to you. And you're too young to get a say-so." Even as he said it, it felt like a cop-out. She was easily the equal of any kid twice or even three times her age. He had been involved in equally dangerous things as a young child.

Of course, he hadn't had a parent to tell him no.

"It's not fair." She released him entirely and wrapped her arms around her legs.

"Don't pout," he warned her, cocking an eyebrow. "I'm on to you, kid. It's not cute when you're being manipulative."

To his surprise, a reluctant smile tugged at her mouth. "You sound like Mom." The smile twisted a little wryly. She blew out a deep breath, and the whole of her body seemed to relax. "I may not get a choice, but I don't have to like it," she remarked. Evidently that thought was somehow comforting.

"No," he agreed. "You don't have to like it."

"Don't tell everyone else that the cute thing's a sham, okay? I'm not even three feet tall. Being adorable is about the only way I ever get what I want."

He fought back a smile. "It'll be our little secret," he promised.