Serizawa Sumi stepped into the police station and glanced around. Several men turned to look at her—the pink miniskirt and flowery tanktop she wore, most likely. She ignored them as she spotted a familiar profile near the far back corner. Her lips pressed tightly together, but she managed to relax them by the time she reached the desk. The old man behind it nodded in greeting, and she returned the gesture. "Detective."

The guy in the guest chair, Serizawa Tamao, snapped his head around and winced up at her. He was not too tall, but he was certainly tall enough next to her. Unlike her pale, light-hearted features, his face arched and sharpened in distinct areas, giving him an aggressive but wise persona. He still wore his uniform jacket and slacks, covered in patches of sandy dirt that slightly polluted his brown hair—it shone chestnut in the bright lights of the station. The hair flowed back away from his face, and long sideburns pointed the way to a light goatee. And the subtle fear at the sight of her showed in his light almond eyes. "Sumi."

The detective stood and walked around his desk. "Keep a better eye on him, huh Sumi-chan?"

"Arigatō, Detective." She watched him leave then looked back at Tamao, who quickly turned back around. She glared, yanked his head back by the hair, and locked her arm around his throat. "You stupid jackass! How dare you get arrested again! How many times do you expect me to bail you out, you worthless idiot?"

"I-sor-ry," he gagged against the hold, flailing his arms and legs madly.

"You bet you are! I'll strangle your sorry ass till your head turns into a blueberry!"

"Heeeeeeelp!"

Tamao scuffed his feet as he and Sumi walked down the lamp-lit night street. "Thanks for bailing me out, Sumi."

Sumi sighed dramatically. "What can I do? You're hopeless without me." She slipped her arm around his elbow and leaned against his shoulder. "So what did you do this time?"

He shrugged. "I drove Tokio's motorcycle without a license. Kuroiwa chased me down and lost in an innocent game of chicken."

"You flipped his car over, Tamao," Sumi reminded, and he shrugged again. They both laughed. "As long as you're safe, anything you do is fine with me."

Tamao smiled down at her then pulled his arm free and wrapped it around her shoulders. "You're the best cousin in the whole world, do you know that?"

She beamed. "Of course I do!"

"Sumi! Over here!" Takahashi Meiko stood up on the tiptoes of her black stiletto heels and waved her arm frantically across the club. Tall and dressed luxuriously, Meiko always turned eyes with her long straight locks, porcelain skin, and shapely figure. Sumi liked Meiko's face best, though. Her eyes were perfectly placed in proportion to her small nose and long but well-rounded lips—Meiko could never hide any emotion, and she rarely tried. "Sumi!"

Sumi waved back at the table of girls. "You guys been here long?" She slid in beside Meiko at the end of the booth and spied the three men pleasantly squished between the other females. "I got tied up cleaning a little mess."

"Smoothing things over with the police for Tamao-kun, no doubt," Meiko responded, a slight disapproval present.

"No point in that," a girl giggled. "With how often he's there, trying to cool down the cops is next to impossible!" The girls laughed.

Sumi resisted the instinct to reach across the table and mark the girl's pasty face with her knuckles. It wasn't that she didn't like her; she just disliked people's snide remarks about Tamao more than she liked anyone.

"It's not like more than half the time the people don't deserve what they get," she amended. "Tamao isn't a bad guy."

"The police are?" the second girl teased.

"Who cares!" interrupted the third. "I wanna dance, let's go!" The three girls and visiting boys stumbled out of the booth and into the crowd.

Sumi was glad to be rid of their company; her eyes met Meiko's. "You know I don't like it when you bring those clucking bitches, Meiko."

Meiko gave her a consolidating pat on the back. "It's not like it'll kill you to hang out with people who aren't daily losing blood by the pint, Sumi-chan."

"I hang out with people I like at places I feel comfortable." Sumi shrugged. "It's not my fault those wannabe thugs are more my soul mates than bunnies in heels."

Meiko beamed and nudged Sumi's foot. "Speaking of that! Check out my new shoes! Report Signature black satin Mary Jane pump stilettos."

Sumi gawked. "My God! Where did you get those?"

"Victoria Secret, of course. Only $195 with tax."

Sumi stared enviously at Meiko's proud expression. "Girl, don't ever tell me how much you wish your dad was legit. If he didn't make a lot of money, you would have robbed your family blind with your sense of fashion." Mr. Takahashi was a corporate raider who did a great deal of business for the yakuza, including filtering their employees into the new restructured businesses.

"But I have good taste, right?"

"For sure."

Meiko smiled at her then slammed her palm on the table, raising her chin resolutely. "You need a man, Sumi!"

Sumi lifted her eyes from the shoes and stared at the girl, confused. "What?"

"A man! A rich man! That way, you can buy all the things your heart desires and never have to give poverty a second thought! Put him to good use!"

Sumi stared for several seconds then glared blandly. "Wow, Meiko. I forgot how completely shallow you can be."

"Yes!" she beamed. "He has to be good looking, maybe a bit older too. Oh! And be sure to get one who won't be home much. That way you don't have to put up with him often. And while we're thinking about it—"

Sumi looked away into the club, drowning out Meiko with the back of her head. She wanted to go out and dance with everyone else, but a long day exhausted her energy supply. The police no longer needed her explanations, but making the money for Tamao's bail didn't grow on trees, unfortunately.

She didn't mind. Tamao was important to her, and an extra mile or two for loved ones never bothered her. Other kids like the ones in the club wouldn't understand that.

Except a girl standing amongst a handful of guys in the corner. She was small and thin dressed in jeans and a tanktop that slipped off her boney shoulders as she clutched handfuls of one man's shirt and pleaded with him.

Man may have been an understatement. He couldn't have been much older than Sumi and not much bigger, either. He was handsome enough for a roughneck but the sneer on his angry face took away any chance of appeal. He slapped her hand off of him, and the other guys pushed her out the side door into the alley.

Sumi raised an eyebrow, jumped up, and hurried off. "I'll be right back."

"Wait, where are you going? Sumi!"

The girl screamed as she collided cheek-first into the brick wall. "Jiro, please!"

"Shut up!" The punk grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head around to see him. "You think you can play around on me and get away with it? Bitch, you are mine; I own you!"

"I'm sorry! Please let me go!" she cried.

"Let you go?" He scoffed, exchanging a smug look with his friends, and pulled a knife from his pocket. "I'll let you go. Once I've taught you a small lesson."

"Oie." Sumi let the door close quietly behind her and descended the three steps to the pavement. She raised an eyebrow at them and tilted her head.

Jiro glared. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Just a bystander." Sumi waved her hand loosely at them. "Let her go."

He laughed, pressed the girl's back against him, and waved the blade in her face. The girl squirmed, and he winked at Sumi. "I don't think so."

Sumi pulled her lips into a line. "So unwise. Now I'm gonna have to teach you a small lesson."

"Funny!" He yanked his head around to his friends. "Isn't she funny!" He turned back but did not feel the pain against his skull until his face collided straight into the wall.

Sumi flipped the knife up with her foot and rammed it down into his hand. She ignored his scream but snapped erect as the other goons advanced. The girl gripped the back of Sumi's tanktop, but Sumi's calm eyes stayed focused on the approaching men.

Hardly fair for them.

"Oie." The voice came from behind, and she checked briefly, expecting an ambush. The speaker was a high school boy, caramel blonde hair spiked up, and almond eyes focused past her at the punks.

In truth, she faltered at first glance, taken by the set angles of his face and experienced warmth behind the disapproving eyes. A dozen other guys flocked at his side.

He frowned. "It's not right to pick on girls." He lifted his head, and his posse rushed around the girls and out the alley in pursuit of the retreating attackers.

Sumi waited until the last one vanished then motioned the girl inside. The guy unpinned Jiro's bleeding hand then shoved the jerk's bruised face into the asphalt. She watched him clean the blade on his pants. "How nice of you to come to the rescue, stranger."

"I didn't come to your rescue," he replied dryly, pocketing the knife.

"I didn't say it was mine." She quirked a challenging eyebrow as he finally turned to look at her. "Still, you deserve thanks for saving the other girl, right? So, arigatō."

He shrugged and turned to leave. "Whatever."

Sumi studied over his black trousers and matching t-shirt, but the missing jacket did not go unnoticed when his swarm of followers wore it proudly. "You're from Suzuran." He glanced at her, and she smiled. "Mmmm?"

His silence was brief. "And?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned to one side, clearly staring him over. "What's your name?"

"None of your business."

"Don't be afraid, blondie." She grinned. "I promise I won't beat you up in front of all your little minions."

He smirked. "Like you could." She wiggled her eyebrows briefly, and he watched her for several long, silent seconds then answered, "Izaki Shun."

"Izaki." Sumi spoke the word softly, enjoying the way it sounded on her lips. "I'll remember."

"And who're you?" He patted the blade in his pocket. "Not a damsel in distress."

"Sumi." She winked with a sly smile and turned to exit the way the goons had. "Just Sumi." She waved over her shoulder. "Thanks again for saving the plucky heroine, but I got it covered next time, Izaki-kun."

He disappeared around the alley corner, and she waited three blocks before giggling ridiculously to herself.

Was that groaning? Groans of pain? Gaw, it never ended! Eh, this was Suzuran—what else was to be expected?

Sumi ascended the final steps and walked out onto the rooftop where two boys riled on the floor and Tamao talked with Tatsukawa Tokio. She recognized the identical Mikami brothers as the squirming victims. "Tamaooo," she growled disapprovingly.

Tamao glanced over and jumped back. "Sumi-chan!"

Sumi sighed then patted his arm. "You're lucky we're family." She waved him off when he opened his mouth defensively. "Don't care. I didn't come here to check on you, senpai. I'm curious if you know an Izaki Shun?"

He instantly narrowed his eyes. "Why? Did he do something to you? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she assured. "I'm just asking."

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

His eyes weren't convinced, but, after a brief pause, he answered, "He's the leader of class D."

"And a conniving little prick," Yuji Tokaji mocked. "Cunning, but conniving."

She highly doubted anyone could more conniving than Tokaji but ignored him. "A challenger?"

"Not exactly," Tamao answered. "He's eager to challenge me but hasn't. I'm not concerned."

Sumi snorted. "You wouldn't be concerned if someone shot a rocket launcher at you." Again, she waved off his comments. "You've won over the Mikami brothers, so what's with the long face?"

He pouted. "Nothing."

She stepped closer, face unchangingly curious. "Has someone caused you concern?"

His eyes flashed. "Iie."

Her brow arched. "Oh?" Another step.

He leaned away somewhat and moved his eyes. "Of course not."

Sumi trailed her eyes smoothly to Tokio, who averted his gaze as well, and then she straightened. "Hm. Well, in that case, you won't mind if I roam around campus for a little while and get the heads up."

Tamao snapped his eyes back to her and grabbed her elbow. "Uh." He glanced at Tokio for help, but Tokio cleared his throat and pretended not to be paying attention.

Sumi patted Tamao's arm and slipped free with a smile. "It's all right, senpai. I can take care of these clowns." She winked and stepped over the Mikami brothers.

Suzuran never did feel like the violent place it truly was, at least not to her. The boys inside never seemed selfish or brainless or scary; the violence never seemed pointless. In truth, Suzuran's nature framed the lifestyle of its students for the rest of their lives, and at times it turned out truly extraordinary personalities—extraordinaries like Tamao.

But she still didn't like the institution. Power struggles stirred up constant negativity, and she found it an unnecessary factor. With every good came evil, she supposed.

Sumi dodged sideways as a tall and broad-shouldered man in jeans and a hoodie came around the corner. She looked up just in time to see his blank expression, but he continued on without acknowledging her. She checked over her shoulder for a second look. That must be Rinda-man; Tamao and Tokio mentioned him a few times, and the rumors weren't charming. Somehow, though, he struck her as a loner more than an intimidation.

"At last I've found you, you worthless scum."

Sumi turned and stared at the small man dressed in a red silk shirt, white slacks, and a matching trench jacket. He chucked a baseball bat over one shoulder then a second over the other as he approached, a cocky scowl on his face. "Let me show you what happens when you mess with yakuza."

Then she noticed the source of his words. A guy, probably the same age as Tamao, stood about twenty feet from her with his hands hanging in the pockets of his black uniform pants. He was tall, much taller than the challenger, but still much shorter than Rinda-man. His raven hair sleeked back away from his chiseled and handsomely severe face, but his somewhat slovenly appearance classified him as a Suzuran student: a short buttoned jacket, an untucked dark gray t-shirt, and a long chain dangling from a loose white belt. Still, something about him seemed off. He didn't quite fit into the surroundings.

The smaller man stepped over the crumbling tennis net and stared up into the younger's face. "You're dead, Serizawa."

Sumi frowned as her shoulders dropped. Why am I not surprised?

The student furrowed his brows in confusion. "Me? I'm not."

But the yakuza wasn't backing down. "Don't give me that." He threw a wild punch, and in a split second the younger guy ducked under the attack and launched his own automatic punch straight into the man's gut. The yakuza wined and crumbled gradually to the ground, wincing painfully.

The student eyed him awkwardly. "H-Hey, are you all right?"

Sumi snorted a laugh, and the guy looked up at her. "You're pretty quick, kid. Maybe a little too quick." She walked up and kneeled beside the fallen man, touching his shoulder gently. "And you're not quick enough, old man." She gripped his arm firmly and struggled to help him up. He slumped forward against her but was instantly pulled back.

The student had him by the collar and used his own arm strength to keep him steady. He eyed the man sternly, noticed Sumi watching, and then released him. "I'm not Serizawa."

Sumi pointed at the smaller man. "But who are you, mister? You're obviously not a student."

He righted himself boldly, though the wince in his eyes showed he was still in pain. "Name's Katagiri Ken, and I'm a yakuza! And I'm looking for Serizawa Tamao!" He pointed a finger at the student. "And if you're not him, then who the hell are you?"

"Takiya Genji," he replied, raising his chin defiantly.

Sumi smiled sweetly and gave the peace sign. "I'm Sumi."

Ken glanced awkwardly at both of them and shook his head. "Genji and Sumi?" Genji just continued his stern stare while Sumi nodded. Ken blinked awkwardly. "Who the hell are you?" he grumbled then fell backwards, unconscious.

Sumi's eyebrows flew up at his fallen form. "Hm. Guess you pack a pretty good punch, huh, Genji-san?" She moved her eyes to him, but he deliberately shifted his gaze in the opposite direction. She shrugged. "I'll leave him in your charge, then. I have to get to work!" She stepped over Ken like a spilled drink and swayed across the field to the gate. But she chanced a glance over her shoulder.

Genji knelt in front of Ken and struggled to help him back up. He didn't look at her, but she was certain he knew she was still there.

She smirked. "Indeed, senpai. A definite need for concern." Then she giggled. But so kawaii! That makes up for something!