When I became King of The Trash Heap

Quixotic took a deep breath, breathing in the smoggy air as he stood in front of the small shack in the junkyard. Tracking the man down was strangely the easiest part. The more difficult part was getting the money to be able to travel over here, and at 15 years old all by himself in foster care, it was nearly impossible to get a steady income to do so. But Quixotic was determined, but what was about to happen next was the hardest part of all.

Quixotic went to knock on the door. But stopped, wondering if he should have worn something more formal for his first meet up (other then jeans and a stupid t-shirt), but all he had in that department was his old school uniform….which might be a bad idea considering a school uniform designed to look like the Japanese military, might bring up bad memories to a US vet that has been in a war with them. Quixotic then ran his hands' threw his shaggy black hair panicked, Ahh! He meant to get a haircut before coming here! He heard that American men hated shaggy hair, oh no what's he supposed to do now?!

But before he could do anything the door to the small hut opened. A big burly Caucasian man with thick black hair that covered his head and face answered the door.

"Can I help you?"

Quixotic took the man's appearance in. Some of the pressure released a little when he noticed the man didn't look anything like the beautiful Americans he's seen on TV. The man wore a stained white wife beater, and his eyes were bloodshot.

"Look kid if you're messing with my property…"

The man reached for the gun he had in the pocket of his blue jeans. That's when Quixotic noticed that he only had one arm.

"Wait! I...I'm Quixotic Fuun."

"Ya..?" The man gave a quizzical look. "And…?"

"My mom is Yuki Fuun." Explained Quixotic.

"I don't know anyone by that...Piss off kid I'm not looking to buy anything…"

The man went to shut the door when Quixotic shoved his torn-up red sneaker into the doorway.

"I'm not selling anything. I just…"The door pinched as he squeaks his next words. "I'm your son!"

The man stopped in his tracks.

"I mean...this is the right place...you...you are Peter Johnson right?" Asked Quixotic.

The burly man looked down at Quixotic, his blurry vision peering into the younger male.

"What was your name again?"

"Quixotic Fuun."

The man thought to himself for a moment. Fuun? Which one was Fuun? He rubbed his forehead as if trying to recall. That name seemed Japanese, and so did the boy...but when was the last time he was even in Japan? Then it dawned on the man….the war...

"How old are you?"

"15."

"Ya...that...checks out…" Johnson mumbled to himself. "...shit…"

"If you want, I can retake the DNA test with you." Said Quixotic. "It was actually a lot harder to track down a match to mine then you think...I had to sift through a lot of medical records….a lot…"

Quixotic trailed off as the older man kicked open the door to the house. A bunch of beer bottles fell over into a pile of other ones. Quixotic stood in the doorway looking into the dimly lit room.

"Close the door and get in here, or close the door and leave. I'm not paying for the air conditioning to go outside."

"Pardon the intrusion."

Quixotic quickly stepped inside and took off his shoes closing the door behind him. When he noticed Mr. Johnson still walked around his house with his shoes on.

"Why not, my days already ruined anyways." Scoft Mr. Johnson. "I didn't get a notice from any lawyer, so what does your mother want for this to be gone? How much do I have to pay to get out of child support?"

"How much…?" Quixotics eyes widened when he realized what he meant. "Oh no, I don't want your money sir. I just, my moms…" he looked around for the words. "...gone. So I just want to live with and get to know you...sir…"

"Listen kid, are you sure there is nowhere else you can go?... I don't have any other beds...or anything…maybe you'll be better with foster care...or something..."

Quixotic had spent that whole year in foster care lumped in with a crowd of kids, all of them stronger and more powerful then he was. The worst being a five year old who had the power to control a person's blood, he remembers the toddler using his powers to puppet Quixotic around unwillingly. Quixotic's only highlight in those days was watching the heros at their work, protecting the weak from the strong. That was something he wanted to do. He wanted to protect powerless people like himself. The first step would be to get into the Xavier academy, the hero school in New York, but before he could do that….

"That's okay, I can sleep pretty much anywhere." Said Quixotic optimistically. "You won't even know I'm here. Most of the day I'll be at Yorha public high school, not that far from here."

"Sure…" Said Mr. Johson levitating a beer towards himself with his one arm. "As long as I don't have to do anyt…."

The beer can was only halfway to his hand when it lost its telekinesis pull and dropped to the dirty floor. Tears brimmed Mr. Johnson's dark eyes before he clenched his fist and stomped his foot on the beer can.

"Fucking stupied. Never works anymore. Fuck physical therapy! I might as well be a powerless useless fuck!"

Quixotic jolted as the grown man kicked his foot into the drywall. Quixotic continued to look at the stump of the man's arm. Did missing an arm effect telekinesis that much? Or was it the mental trauma of losing it? He wondered.

"What? What are you looking at?!" Mr. Johnson seethed.

"Oh, uh, it's just I was hoping...you can tell me how you and my mother met." Asked Quixotic.

"You don't want to know." Said Mr. Johnson.

"I do! I want to hear all about it, please! Tell me about you and my mother."

"Well...it was sometime during the war and….she was a beautiful, uh, young woman?" Mr. Johnson rubbed the back of his neck."So uh...I bought a hotel room and...ya...you're old enough to know...when a man meets a woman they uhh, do adult things so… and that's what happend. Don't say I didn't warn you kid." He added quickly.

Quixotics eyes brimmed with tears. He didn't understand why, but he had always hoped maybe his conception was different from his other half siblings. It was a stupied longshot but, he was kinda hoping maybe, his father was different from the others who paid her to bring them home for the night. Maybe he was a secret love child. A war vet from America, and a girl from the warring country of Japan. Like Romeo and Juliet, they secretly loved each other. Or maybe his father was an American superhero that had to distance himself from Quixotic and his mother to fight an underground immortal supervillain who has threatened to become the king of the world. Quixotic, then could become the world's best superhero in his stead because his father would give him his superpowers, which are uh, pass on just by uh, eating his hair or spit. Nevermind, that's gross. But, just...anything….anything would be better than his reality…

Tin jumped in front of Quixotic in the present, his arm turning into a blade. Slicing through Quixotics' past like a roll of film.

The bullet sliced in two before it hit the ground. Phoenix's musculare chest heaved as he glared at his nemesis. Gun in his hand, he sat on one knee the giant pencil stabbed into the floor next to him.

"That's our que to leave." Said Tin.

Quixotic snapped out of his thoughts and rubs his tear-stricken eyes. This old run-down high school had brought back too many memories for his liking.

"No, not yet! I can't leave Dr. Baleful." Said Quixotic.

Tin looked at the corpses of the women sitting in her chair.

"Let's leave this to Metamorpho." Said Tin. "You have a destiny to carry out."

"I'm not leaving until me and Dr. Baleful get our revenge." Said Quixotic.

Without another word Tin picked Quixotic up and threw him over his shoulder.

"Put me down!" Yelled Quixotic kicking Tin's back.

Quixotic grabbed Dr. Baleful's decaying hand, accidentally snapping it off. The corpse fell out of her chair and hit the ground. Quixotic's eyes widened as he continued to be carried off by the sturdy hick.

"Get back here you coward!" Yelled Phoenix.

He aimed his gun at Quixotic again and fired, but this time a huge eraser cut through the air between them.

"Do you like my props?" Said the ninja sitting on top of the roof beams."It's all in the theme, I believe a story is nothing without them." The ninja pulled out three rulers, they sat in between his fingers. "I would rather die than go without themes!"

The rulers grew in size bigger and bigger as they headed towards Phoenix. Phoenix doged all three of them as they stuck into the ground.

"It's a good thing your old run down school has all these old supplies laying around." Said the ninja. "When I heard that we were going to be in a school setting I didn't know what I was to do. I need to stay within the theme."

"Well, you're in luck then bud!" Yelled Phoenix pointing his gun at the teenager on the beams. "Because you can stay within the theme of choking on my dick!"

The ninja pulled out a Harry Potter book enlarging it with his powers. The bullet didn't even go through the cover before it stopped.

"You have quite the potty mouth you know." Said the ninja. "Too bad you need a hall pass to go to the bathroom!"

The ninja threw the hall pass it grew and grew, before it landed over on top of the pencils and rulers that stuck out of the floor.

"Crap!" Yelled Phoenix.

That's when Phoenix noticed, the enemy had intraped him in a maze made out of enlarged school supplies.

"See you're trapped in a maze of themes and have to untangle your way out!" Laughed the ninja. "Come, let's hope your character growth is strong enough to make it out alive."

"Come and face me like a man you chode-smoker!" Yelled Phoenix

Phoenix got out a sword and began chopping away at the large pencils. That's when a tiny pair of scissors the size of a needle stuck into his arm.

"Ahh!"

Phoenix dropped his sword clutching his bleeding arm.

"Oh you." Laughed the ninja. "Quixotic specifically said you had to participate in these party games. You have to follow the rules now. Go by the theme."

"Fucking how many times do I have to tell you peons!" Yelled Phoenix taking out his machine gun. "You have to carve your own path and take the win," he continued, wood shavings and bullets littering the floor. More of the needles stuck into Phoenix, but he didn't budge. "Or take the L and piss off, loser!��

The large pencils were nothing but dust when Phoenix got done with them. The ninja went to jump to another beam, but slipped and fell to the cold gymnasium floor. Phoenix's daunting figure loomed over the teen.

"I'm done playing nursery games with little shit eating brats." Painted Phoenix. "I'm out of here."

"I…" The kid quiverd, Phoenix turned around raising an eyebrow." ...I can... expand the needles in your skin…and kill you..."

"I dare you." Growled Phoenix.

The kid who was with ease expanding and shrinking things a moment ago, now shook with his hand raised to the bigger foe who shredded his obstacle course. Phoenix began walking towards the kid, and the kid unconsciously scooted back until his back hit the wall.

RADATA TAT TAT

A row of bullets left Phoenix's machine gun and rattled onto the wooden floor beside him.

"Eeek! Oh god don't kill me!" The teen jolted.

"Are we done here?" Asked Phoenix. "Because I'm done with the bullshit today." He said, turning around and leaving.

"Stubborn old jackass." The teen mumbled sitting in his own puddle of piss.

Phoenix already left to chase after Quixotic who had already made it to the outside stairwell that led up to the old school media tower.

"I said put me down!" Quixotic yelled hitting Tin hard on the back.

Tin staggered a bit but kept on running without a word.

"I'm sorry I left you behind back there D.r Baleful." Cried Quixotic,clutching the dismembered hand. "I'm doing this for you, and others like us. I promise. I'll finish our life's work, and finally make you proud of me."

Quixotic took the corpse's hand and patted his dark hair lovingly with it. The petting brought him comfort along with more memories of his first time meeting her. A day that was considered the best worst day of his life.