Hana easily ducked under the huge guy's fist and bolted for the others. Adrenaline took over unintentionally, and she vaulted into the air and landed a foot directly in the center of one guy's chest. Her feet landed like an inexperienced cat, but she ducked and rolled away from a wide swing of another opponent. He tried stomping on her, but his attacks were never quite fast enough to outmaneuver her rolls. She managed to roll far enough and kicked his legs out from underneath him. A forth man grabbed her by the shirt and yanked her up. She slapped wildly at his face until slamming her knee into his groin.

Then a blow connected against the back of her head, and she collapsed face-first into the pavement. Her ears rang loudly, and her mind was vaguely aware of her hands clawing at the ground. Then she flipped over onto her back, and the punk slapped her hard across the face. Strangely, it didn't hurt as much as past ones. Either this guy was weaker than he looked, or she was getting used to the tingly sensation. He yanked her back by her hair and grabbed her bicep viciously, dragging her back into the midst of them.

Hana grabbed wildly at him, and a second man helped him hold her upright, arms stretched in opposite directions at her sides. The largest man marched toward them, his cruel intentions obvious by the heat in his eyes. His hit was superior to his entourage. The standard open palm disappeared beneath his tightly bound fingers, and pronounced, uneven knuckles struck the corner of her left eye. The contact flung her head violently, and if they didn't hear the crack of her neck, she certainly felt it. Even with the red and black lines streaking her vision as he struck again across the other eye.

Somewhere, though, beneath that tear-stinging pain, an instinct took hold of her psyche. It whispered in her ear subtly, its voice lurking toward her. Then one of the guys loosened his hold on her arm, and the voice screamed. She twisted her arm out of his grasp, yanked him head-first into the guy on her other side, and stumbled underneath a suppressive swing from the mountain of pain. She couldn't see clearly, but her feet drove her away from the stampeding predators following suit.

She couldn't outrun them; she knew she couldn't. Adrenaline worked miracles, but it wasn't omnipotent. The body had its limits, and hers was showing signs of protest as her lungs seared with pain and her eyelids threatened to swell straight over her blurring pupils. Oh God, the pain was excruciating.

"Can't force loyalty."

Her feet would go no further in the sprint, and, for some reason, she was glad for it. She turned on the guys, who panted dangerously at her, exerted but not tired. They were just warming up. She was near the main street now; she could scream for help. But she caught the leader's sneer and felt her feet charge toward them with a loud cry. She ducked under the swing, down far below his waist, and grabbed his ankles then flung him head-over-heels across her back. The next fist was blocked, but the third connected with her jaw.

It brought her down instantly, but she kicked the bastard before he could kick her. The largest guy forced her arms down and straddled her hips. His knuckles found her face again, and the strength evaporated from her limbs. But she wouldn't cry for help. She wouldn't!

"He's beaten. Helping him would kill what little pride he has left. It's a fighter's mentality, you wouldn't understand."

A fighter's mentality.

"And a Crow never gets walked on."

Never gets walked on. The thought consumed what little consciousness she still possessed, but it was enough. She bucked her body hard, fixing her feet beneath her, and then twisted her hips. The abrupt retaliation threw him off enough that she pulled her leg up and thrust it into his crotch at full force. He swore and collapsed on his side, but his men were ready to jump in.

One yanked her up by the hair, and the repeated offense set off a bomb in her reflexes. She lashed away from him, ignoring the ripping of her hair from her scalp, and punched him straight in the nose. Surprisingly, the bones cracked, and she tackled him. She tripped in the maneuver, relinquishing her hold on his waist, but the momentum kept him stumbling backwards straight through a store window.

The remaining two goons grabbed each of her arms and pinned her to the ground. One positioned her arms over her head, and the other spread her legs then sat on her knees. She could hear him unbuckling his belt, though it made no difference. She thrashed and struggled so violently he fell sideways off her then her foot nailed him directly in the temple. The last guy couldn't hold her insane retaliation alone and ended up with his face meeting the store wall next to the shattered window.

Hana shuffled over to the groaning behemoth still clutching his crotch and kicked his hands down awkwardly into the aching extremity. He shouted in pain but was unable to retaliate. She made sure he didn't recover anytime soon by bashing him over the head with a metal garbage can.

Then all was silent except for her hectic breathing. They were defeated. She was triumphant. Five minutes passed before she headed back for Jun, her feet somehow still finding strength but her eyesight nearly covered by swelling.

"You might be a Crow after all."

"The next three classes will be utilized for research on your projects due at the end of the month. Remember, your topics must be cleared with me if they haven't already and no slacking on your homework reading. We will still have our test. Have a good weekend." Takaguchi closed his lesson plans and packed up as the students filtered out. He was the last one.

"Sensei?"

He looked up, and a stunned concern consumed his face. "Hana-chan!" He crossed quickly to the doorway and cupped both sides of her face. "What happened?"

Hana felt embarrassed by the obvious blue and black bruises around her eyes and mouth. "Sensei, that hurts."

He softened his hold but didn't release her. "How did this happen to you?"

"I was jumped last night," she said simply and smiled somewhat. "But I'm okay. I kicked their asses, sensei!"

Takaguchi wasn't relieved by this news and ushered her into a desk. "Sit down. Tell me exactly what happened. Who was it?"

"I didn't come here about that." She patted his hands reassuringly and smiled bigger when he sat in the desk beside her. He looked a lot younger playing the student rather than the instructor. "I'm really okay, sensei. I just came to find out what I missed. I would've come, but the doctor's office took longer than I thought."

"The lesson's not important—"

"Sensei," she cut off sternly. "Don't patronize me. I sleep enough in your class as it is. You can't go easy on slackers like me, don't you know?" He smirked, and she giggled. "But I appreciate the concern."

Takaguchi leaned on the desk and watched her seriously. Something played in his mind; it was obvious by the search in his wise eyes. "I heard about the contest. Congratulations."

She smiled. "Arigatō gozaimasu."

"I went to the viewing and noticed something of particular interest in your piece." She blinked curiously, and he lowered his voice. "There was a jacket on the back of the chair, with a Suzuran Boys' High School crest on the pocket." Her pleasant intrigue diminished. "Are they the ones you've been following?"

Hana averted her eyes. "Hai."

"Did they do this to you?"

"Iie!" She turned furious eyes on him. "Suzuran would never hurt me! They're my friends!"

"Then," he tilted his head, those gears in his mind openly turning, "do you know a Takiya Genji?"

"Genji-san?" She narrowed her eyes. "What about him?"

"His father, Takiya Hideo, is the leader of the Ryuseikai gang for the Yakuza."

"So?" she hissed.

"So," Takaguchi continued calmly, "he's a hot ticket right now. Word is Yazaki Joji's gang is out to take his turf, which of course includes his life."

"He's a Yak. His life's always at risk."

"Yazaki isn't just any Yak. He'll go to any lengths to achieve his means. He already tried killing Genji once, but his man didn't pull through."

Hana blanched. Tried to kill Genji? Seriously? He was a loose cannon, for sure, but still at the prime of his reckless life. How could anyone—

She stopped. Takaguchi continued watching her, but something in the look unnerved her. She stood and backed up a step. "How do you know so much about all this? It's not exactly textbook material." He stood also and regained the step. She clutched her hands at her sides. "Sensei?"

Takaguchi plopped his hand on her head, breaking the tension, and smiled. "Just stay out of trouble, Hana-chan. Don't let me see you like this again." He took his briefcase off the desk and headed for the door. "I won't take pity on a slacker next time." But he stopped there and smiled over his shoulder. "Congratulations again, Hana. You make me proud."

Hana stared at his exit then touched her head. "Sensei." He knew something more than he told. His concern was sweet, but his knowledge surpassed professor training. He was hiding something important from her, something to do with Genji, so something to do with Suzuran, thus somehow involving Tamao as well.

Then it had something to do with her, and she wanted to know what.

Jun shook his head and popped a Dorito in his mouth. "I'm still amazed you beat those guys, Hana. You couldn't even beat the handicapped kid in fourth grade."

Hana glared and raised her fist at him, but his wince satisfied her enough. "Unless you wanna see how I did, you'd better watch it. Whose fault is it I fought alone?" His face dropped, and he looked at the ground. She frowned then kicked the garbage barrel between them. "Oie. Don't pout. Your drunk ass would've just gotten in the way anyway." Jun glanced at her only a second then back at the pavement. "Oie. Quit, already; you're making me feel bad."

"I should've helped. I'm your best friend and wasn't there when you needed me most."

"I didn't need you. I did just fine on my own, as you can see. I really need you when projects are due and people suck, and you've never missed one of those sessions. I need a friend, not a bodyguard, and you're the best at that."

He pouted his lip but looked up. "Really?"

"Of course! Do you think I'd lie about something like that?" She thought. "Well, yeah I might, but you've known me long enough to tell when I'm lying and when I'm not, so this time I'm being honest!"

He kicked the barrel rebelliously and flung an accusing finger at her. "How can you comfort someone with a comment like that? Haven't you ever tried to make someone feel better?"

"Who asked you to feel bad? Don't make me the bad guy here, you're choosing to have a pity party over there!"

"I can't help it! Just looking at your face reminds me of what a bad friend I am!"

"I told you to quit, baka!"

"But—"

"Junaki!" She glared severely at him. "If you bring up last night again, I'll personally kick your ass. Got it?"

Jun winced as she raised her fist at him again. "Okay, okay! I won't bring it up again." He stuck his tongue out at her. "Jeez, you're getting more like these yankees every day."

"Just stuff your face and shut up."

"See what I mean?" But he pulled the spoon out of the carton of Baskin Robbins chocolate ice cream and stuffed it in his mouth. The barrel was home to many other snack foods: peanut butter and hazelnut cookies, crisp green grapes, a full-size bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos, sticks of string Swiss cheese, and a large bag of un-assorted candy. "Why did we bring all this stuff here anyway? Didn't you say this is where those yanks like to hang out?"

She slapped his hand, driving the spoon up into his nose. He really didn't know when to keep his mouth shut.

"Speak of the devils, here they come."

Hana turned her head, and, sure enough, the members of Serizawa Faction approached. They conversed in friendly camaraderie, but Tokio caught sight of her and stopped. The smile slowly sank away, and Tokaji followed suit. Tamao came up between them and glanced curiously at Tokio then noticed her and Jun sitting at the gas station. But his face didn't fall, instead rising in shock. He marched up to them and stared down at her.

She lowered her eyes, but his ongoing silence forced them up. "Are you hungry?"

Something strange happened. No emotion lingered in his features, and yet he still looked distinctly angry. "Who did this to you?" he asked evenly.

"Tamao—"

"Who?"

She shrugged. "I dunno what their names are or where they go to school."

"What did their uniforms look like?"

"Does it really matter—"

"Yes," he interrupted.

Hana sighed and smiled weakly. "No, it doesn't. It's done, and I'm fine. Just let it go."

"Hana-chan," Tokio interceded, and he and Tokaji joined the circle. "How can you expect us to just overlook this? You could've been killed, and what if it happens again?"

"It won't. They wouldn't dare mess with me a second time. And when they do, I'll still be fine."

"Saying you'll be fine doesn't make you fine," barked Tokaji. "Just tell us who the bastards are."

"I told you, I don't know who they are. I don't really remember what they looked like, it all happened so fast—"

"Navy uniforms," Jun suddenly interceded. All eyes turned on him, including a warning Hana, but he kept his gaze on Tamao. "They wore navy uniforms with an eagle crest. There were five of them, one a hell of a lot bigger than the rest, and he's the one who put those marks on Hana's face. Because she's your girl, and they wanted to send you a message. Luckily Hana managed before they could beat the shit out of her."

Tokio gawked and grabbed her shoulder. "You beat them, Hana-chan? All of them?"

Hana blushed and shot a dark glare at Jun, but he still focused on Tamao. "She stood up for you," he continued lowly. "Protected your reputation. Protected you."

"Junaki," she hissed then smiled at the others. "I didn't come here about that. I brought some snacks for a sober celebration of my victory." Tokaji and Tokio continued staring silently, and Jun and Tamao's eyes never strayed. She smacked Tokio's stomach and kicked the barrel, pulling Jun's eyes away. "Come on, dig in! The ice cream's gonna melt so be sure to eat that first."

Tokaji reached over Jun's shoulder and picked up the bag of candy. "Is this a celebration or a pig out?"

"It's better than alcohol and out-of-tune karaoke," she chastised as Tokio favored the Doritos. "I don't think I've ever heard anything that awful in my life."

"That's because you haven't heard Genji sing," chuckled Tokio.

"We weren't that bad," Jun protested, pouting his lip again.

Hana threw a Dorito at him. "What did I tell you about that face?"

"I'm not feeling guilty! I'm feeling rejected."

Then Tamao grabbed her wrist, yanked her up off the seat, and pulled her away. Jun started to get up, but Tokaji planted a hand on his shoulder. She was led away from the gas station and around the fencing until they reached a shady tree lining the road, out of visual range of the guys. He released her and sat in the grass underneath the branches. "Sit."

Hana checked over her shoulder awkwardly then sat down beside him. "What're we doing?"

He took a deep breath. "Hana."

She lifted her eyebrows. "What?"

He exhaled slowly and turned his head toward her. "What the hell were you thinking? You should've run."

She didn't want to think about last night. "I couldn't run with Jun—"

"Then you should've left him," he seethed. "They weren't after him, they were after you!"

Why was he yelling? "I won't run away from a bunch of creeps!"

"Then you'll end up on a gurney, or worse, dead! Is that what you want?"

"I'm not gonna be responsible for killing your reputation!"

"You can't save something that isn't yours to lose, Hana!"

"How can you say that—"

"People are always gonna say things about me. That's part of the sacrifice I have to make, not you."

"Yes, I do!"

"No, you don't!"

"Yes I do!"

"Dōshite?"

"Because!" She bit her lip, but it didn't kill her response. It was embarrassing he even had to ask. "I'm your girl."

Tamao pressed his lips together, forcing calm, but still noticeably fumed. "Do you have any idea what being my girl means? Wasn't last night enough of an example?"

"Last night showed me the type of person I am, Tamao. And it showed me just how committed to being your girl I am." She sat straighter and looked at the street. "It's a fighter's mentality. You should understand."

Tamao remained silent. He could have been burning holes in the side of her head for all she knew, but then the grass moved. Suddenly, his arms came around her, and she was pulled back against a body. His legs sprawled out on either side of her, and he rested his chin in her collarbone, holding her close. She stopped breathing at first then smiled and reclined into him. The feel of his scruffy face against her cheek sent giggles up her throat, but they managed to stay quiet enough that the newfound silence remained uninterrupted, tasting all the sweeter.

Her hands clung on those muscled arms possessing her. Ironic the physical restraint set her at ease.

Poor Jun wound up left with Tokaji and Tokio because Tamao insisted on taking her home and looking at her face himself. They didn't even go back to tell the others. Most of her neighbors were still out at work or dinner dates, so no one asked questions about the stranger.

Hana sat Indian style on one of her kitchen table chairs, and Tamao pulled the front of their chairs together, straddling his so his knees touched hers. He treated her face, even though it had already been done hours before at the hospital. His hands were experienced and surprisingly gentle. She couldn't help smiling lightly at the tenderness.

"They look more serious than they are," he said matter-a-factly. "They'll be gone in less than two weeks, the swelling in days. You heal fast."

Hana raised her arms and pretended to flex. "I can't be broken!"

He smirked but lost the humor. "How many times did they hit you?"

"Mm, the big guy got in the most licks. Seven, maybe eight times."

He rested his wrists on his knees and started straight into her eyes. "Is that all? They didn't do…anything else?"

She shook her head. "They couldn't hold me down long enough."

His chest flared. "But they tried?"

Hana bit her lip but nodded. "Hai."

Tamao's jaw shifted, and he cleaned up the first-aid kit. "They won't get away with this, Hana. I'll make sure they never even look at you agai—" He stopped and looked back at her. They stared then he looked down, where her hands clung on his shirt.

She blushed when he looked at her again. "Don't start. You have enough trouble with Housen."

He nodded. Then he slowly untangled her legs and stretched them out on either side of him. She kept his gaze, but her body tingled with wild sensations. He tucked a careful arm around her waist then glided her up his legs, straddling his lap. She gasped shakily when her hips slipped snugly into his. So perfect. "What're you doing?" she whispered.