Class, class, class—what a nuisance. Life was too short to be forced to waste away in class. Sure, there was the whole bit about it helping for a better and brighter future, but seriously, screw that crap. The present was the only guarantee, and that was all Sumi really cared about as she stared out the window of her classroom.

Sometimes she envied the boys of Suzuran, who basically went to school to do whatever they felt like doing. Then again, they generally left school with more than a few scrapes and bruises, a broken bone here or there, a hospital visit or two per month, and so forth. A person had to pick the lesser of two evils.

"Serizawa-chan."

Sumi blinked and turned her head. "Hm?"

"I asked when was Buddhism first introduced to Japan and by whom?"

"Prince Shōtoku integrated it from China during the Asuka-Nara period, approximately 538 to 794 A.D."

"Good."

Okay, academics was one of her strong points, but her knack for it only made sitting in class even more sacrilegious in her mind.

"Did you hear what happened at Suzuran?" the boy behind her mumbled to a classmate across the aisle.

"What is it this time?" the second whispered back.

"Some new guy said he's gonna beat Serizawa! My brother says he already barged into a class and beat their leader, Chuta Tamura."

"He thinks he'll beat Serizawa just because he beat Chuta? Pff! Serizawa's a monster!"

"This isn't just some new guy, though! I heard he's the kid of some yakuza boss."

"Whatever, it won't make a difference."

"I'll put down money he gives Serizawa a beat down!"

"You're on!"

Sumi pouted and dropped her chin in her palm. Genji-san, Genji-san, Genji-san. You could've settled in a little before making a spectacle of yourself. She sighed. Impatience breeds stupidity. Be strong, Genji-san!

"Psst!"

Sumi wondered if she should ignore Meiko's beckoning but concluded Meiko would persist, so she turned her head. Meiko grinned and flicked an artfully folded piece of paper at her. "Take a look," she mouthed.

Sumi retrieved the note and unwrapped it carefully, eyes firm on the teacher before reading:

We're going to party with freshmen from Suzuran! You in?

She glided the page under her book and shook her head at Meiko. Meiko furrowed her brow questioningly, but Sumi pretended to be suddenly enthralled by the lecture.

Tonight, Sumi had bigger fish to fry than a mass of obnoxious and impulsive freshmen. Starting with Fukuoka Ryuichi; ending with her dear cousin.

Sumi inhaled the smell of smoke and alcohol. It didn't take much brains to recognize the particular odor of the smoke—the nauseating, brain-tingling, illegal kind. She neither hated nor enjoyed the smell, but it was not one she ever got used to, as she coughed and checked her surroundings habitually. Yankees, go figure. The kids always seemed to be the ones sticking themselves where they didn't belong, but she ignored them and stepped through the doorway into the dark office.

The lights barely reflected off the dark mahogany and scarlet velvet consuming the space. The room was modest in size but spacious. The few pieces of furniture—a couch, desk, bookcase, two guest chairs, and a coffee table—allowed flexibility for occupants. Behind the desk, a short, skinny man with sagging features and a very bald head squinted beady black eyes at her then grinned. The drooping lips pulled back over his chipped black teeth. "Sumi-chan!" His voice was raspy, like he was perpetually suffocating.

Sumi knocked her knuckles on his desk. "Fukuoka-sama. Hand it over."

He laughed—or hacked, more like it—and held up his hands, drawing obvious attention to their emptiness. "Is that any way to treat a man you ask a request from?"

"Oh please," she rolled her eyes. "You and I both know you're just as interested in Tamao as I am. But I have things to do, and little time to sit here to start on another long pilgrimage of life. I love you, old man, now give it to me."

Fukuoka laughed harder than ever, smacked his palm jovially on the desk, and winked. "You're a good kid, Sumi-chan. Tamao's a lucky man to have you so close by." He opened a desk drawer and withdrew a yellow envelope. "Take good care of these now, would you? The market's pretty rough these days."

She accepted the parcel. "Arigatō, Ryuichi-sama." She smiled briefly, winked back, and left, taking heed to hold her breath as she passed through the stuffy cloud.

The rooftops of Suzuran were always the best place to find Tamao and his gang, but Sumi honestly never understood its appeal. All the same, stepping out on it now, she admired the open air and setting sun. Her purse felt heavy with value as the large envelope peeked out; she only hoped that Tamao would see it that way.

Then Tamao came around the corner. He stopped at the door and raised his eyebrows at her. "Sumi? What're you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?"

Sumi winked. "How could they operate without me?" She took the yellow enveloped from her satchel purse and handed it to him. "This is for you."

He questioned her silently but took out the papers and glanced over them. "Housing deeds?"

"Yeap. In Hokkaido. The place'll be ready for living by the end of graduation."

Tamao slid the papers back in the envelope and extended it to her. "I don't want em."

She looked around nonchalantly, hands tucked behind her back. He sighed, and she smiled at him. "What're you doing up here at this hour, anyway? Admiring the sunset?"

Tamao frowned, threw the parcel at her feet, and stomped off. "Get to work," he snapped evenly.

She blinked at his shrinking back and picked up the envelope. "What's eating him?" She shrugged it off and walked around the fencing, excited to see Tokio alone.

Tokio always won brownie points from her, not only for his loyalty to Tamao but for his calm, intelligent disposition. They had been sweethearts for a while when they were freshmen, but things changed—he made a choice. He chose fighting over her, so she ended their relationship abruptly, but she could never neglect him for long. He was, after all, her first love. Now, she still felt an unbridled tenderness for him, and a different love took precedence over any romance; a protective, affectionate love, much like that reserved for the dearest of friends and family.

Sumi rounded the corner and squinted against the sunset. "Tokio-kun?" It took a few blinks to clear her vision, but when she finally made out Tokio's figure against the orange flames of light, he was hunched on the ground, grabbing his head and squeezing his eyes shut with gritted teeth as his skin broke into a cold sweat. "Tokio!" She rushed to him, but her hands hovered just above his shoulders. "What's wrong?" Tokio gave a brief, mumbled cry, and she jumped up. "I'll get Tamao!"

But she didn't move. His claw-like fingers pressed into her forearm as fast and strong as talons. He panted uncontrollably, working to subdue the apparent pain, and looked up at her. "Don't tell Tamao."

Sumi frowned but kneeled back in front of him. "Why? What's wrong with you?"

"Please, Sumi." Tokio released his grip and touched her wrist. "Don't make me."

She needed no further convincing; his weak, shaky voice pierced through her fear. She placed her hand in his shaggy black hair and lowered her head to meet his eyes better. "What can I do?"

Tokio only continued panting at first then collapsed into her. His forehead reclined against hers, and neither opened their eyes as he breathed, his inhalations gradually becoming softer.

Sumi pressed her lips together and clutched his ears with her unsteady hands. "Why do you do this to yourself, Tokio?"

He rubbed his nose across hers. "I'm sorry."

She bit her lip harshly then folded him up in her arms and pulled him into her, his damp forehead pressing against her neck. "Don't lie to me." He clung to her arm with one hand, but otherwise remained limp in her embrace.

Tokio recovered from his episode, but he told her nothing more than she already saw. He was intent on dispelling her concern, no doubt to win her over to the idea of not telling Tamao, but he relinquished some when he let her accompany him home. He didn't show her tenderness again; he never brought it up, which didn't bother her as much as his clearly unstable condition.

Sumi stumbled to the side when her shoulder collided with another. She looked up from the sidewalk then blinked. "Izaki-san."

Izaki raised an eyebrow at her, eyes probing, then relaxed. "Just Sumi, right?"

She nodded and glanced at the plastic bag in his hand. "Are you shopping?"

"Just a few groceries."

"Oh." She seldom had trouble making conversation with the silent type, but her mind was too distracted. "I'm just going home too."

"Okay." They bowed and passed on their way.

Sumi hesitated after a few steps. His footsteps did not do the same, and she turned. "Do you wanna get a drink?" He stopped but didn't face her. She quirked an eyebrow. "I'm buying."

Izaki fidgeted, turned, and smirked at her anxious eyes.

Sumi slammed her bottle down on the table and hiccupped. "He's been actin really shady lately, ya know?" she slurred drunkenly. "I mean, I'm use' to him keepin secrets from me and all tha', but they're not usually big secrets. I mean shit!" She threw her free hand up. "Am I a bad person or somethin? Eh, Izaki-san?"

Izaki's chest inflated when he burped then separated his lips to let the fowl breath out. He squinted at her, his half-drunk mind still relatively clear, but his vision withered somewhat. "Take care of yourself first. He can live his own life."

She scoffed. "He's my cousin, what am I suppose' to do? All I want is my cousin to be safe, away from all this violen' shit. I mean really, is that so much to ask? But noooo, big bad cousin has to be all hard ass like he feels he still has some'n to prove. And then his best friend," she smacked her hand down on his forearm, drunkenly assuring herself that he was not actually moving in three directions, "is dyin of who knows what, but pretendin like no one's gonna notice. I mean, I'm a good person, right? I'm tryin' to look out for my friends and family, aren't I? So, why? Why's all this crap happenin to me? Do you know?"

Izaki swallowed more of his beer, eyes glued droopily on her, and shrugged. "Maybe you keep bad company."

"Pff!" She threw her hand at him dismissively. "I'm sittin here with a Suzuran student. What would you know 'bout goo' company?"

Izaki finished off his bottle then stood. "Then let me relieve you of your burden, oh so righteous one." He took a step toward the door, and a thunk sounded behind him. He turned then frowned. "Don't pass out, you're supposed to pay!"

Izaki grunted against the alcohol in his system, the girl drooling on his back, and the gravity pushing down on both. He hoisted her a little higher and winced when her breath brushed against his ear and down his face. "Do you mind?" he snapped, but she only moaned abruptly. "You owe me big for this. You may be small, but you're not light. And don't even think about trying to get out of paying me back." He tripped briefly when a hint of alcohol rushed to his head but recovered quickly. "Hate this charity shit," he mumbled.

"Well, well, well."

Izaki stopped, and guys suddenly emerged from the darkness and surrounded him on all sides. A trap. One stepped forward to take credit for the ambush, and he looked kind of familiar.

The punk from the club, Jiro.

"It's our love birds," cooed Jiro. "It's not safe to walk around alone at night. Where's your posse now, Suzuran bastard?"

Izaki smirked and pinched Sumi's thigh, but she only fidgeted and remained dead weight. He subdued a growl and rolled his eyes. "They're still drinking, but I don't think I need any help with you losers."

"Hah! Is that so?"

Izaki stumbled back as the girl's body was yanked away. He spotted the offender on his left, dropped Sumi's legs, and slugged the punk across the chin. He caught her arm and slipped his hand behind her head as they both fell to the ground. He drew back. "Sumi?"

She squinted up at him and raised her arm. "Whaz goin' on?"

Izaki lunged up and clocked another man's face. These bastards were really starting to get on his nerves, and he charged into the swarm of attackers with fists fast and ready.

Sumi hissed when a man kicked her in his sprint toward Izaki. "Son uv'a bi'ch," she mumbled irritably and stumbled to her feet. Another man charged by, but she caught him by the collar and chopped him square in the Adam's apple. Her hand reached out, grabbed a fist full of hair, and she head-butted the man off his feet. She wobbled into the wall then sidestepped. A fist slammed into the concrete followed by a yell, and she speared him in the gut, driving them both to the pavement. A hand yanked her back up and threw a punch at her, but she ducked and socked him between the eyes.

The rush of alcohol blurred her vision, and her mind suddenly clogged. Someone grabbed her elbow and shoved her away, but a grunt elsewhere identified the wrangler as an ally. Her senses briefly returned, and she blinked up at Izaki's fierce eyes. He yelled something at her, but her mind couldn't comprehend him.

A visage came into focus behind him and grew rapidly closer. She shoved Izaki away, stepped up on the wall, and smashed her shoe directly against the mass' temple. She landed in a crouch, and the blurb crashed beside her.

Izaki stepped forward. "Sumi?"

Sumi furrowed her brow, exhaled, and collapsed in an unconscious heap beside her victim.

The morning sunlight burned her eyelids. It barely peeked over the railing of her small balcony, but the open curtains blocked nothing from looking in on her. Sumi turned her head away from the light and faced the inside of the bed. She took a sleepy look at the empty space on the other side then went back to sleep.

Only it wasn't empty.

Her eyes flashed open for an abrupt double take, and she lunged away from the sleeping Izaki, lost her balance in the tangled bed sheets, and fell into the floor. She blinked a few times at the beige ceiling then slowly sat up. The noise didn't wake him. His blonde hair was askew from sleep, and his lower lip was somewhat swollen. He clung to the pillow as he breathed steadily without snoring. She looked down at herself and sighed thankfully at the sight of her clothes. Nothing I don't remember.

Sumi glanced at him again and was surprised by the strong desire to crawl back into bed. She resisted, however, and stood. She crossed the room quietly, closed the bedroom door, and entered the kitchen. Her apartment only had four rooms: the bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen, and the living room. In truth, her kitchen and living room were only divided by the raised platform the kitchen area sat on, so she often viewed them as the same room.

She put together some hangover cure before setting out to make some breakfast. Pancakes sounded wonderful at the moment, with a side of bacon. Her skills in the kitchen won her great favor with the landlord, and more than once he gave her a rent extension when she offered him delicious cuisine. Tamao always inhaled her food when he happened to drop in on a meal or two from time to time. Tokio devoured any food she fixed him during their relationship, and even now he occasionally put in a request. She didn't mind. Cooking was fun, and the result was well worth the effort.

Sometime later, she plopped the first two pancakes onto a plate and pushed at the sizzling bacon.

"You must be feeling better."

Sumi snapped her eyes up and smiled at Izaki standing in the bedroom doorway. "I'm starved. You must be too. Take a seat; I'll make enough for two."

Izaki walked over, but rather than sitting in the living room, he stood beside her and picked up a fork to eat at the ready plate. He added a little syrup on the pancakes, cut a piece, and put it in his mouth. He chewed then swallowed. "Pretty good."

Sumi beamed as he continued. "I'll have bacon ready soon too. Eat as much as you like. I owe it to you for bringing me home last night."

He glanced in her direction a second then continued eating. "Yeah."

She quirked an eyebrow and picked up the bacon pan. "Is something wrong?"

He shook his head and raised his arm to let her slide some of the bacon onto his plate. Her hair brushed his face, but he didn't turn away. When she straightened, their eyes met. He stared at her strangely, like he waited for her to say something, but she only tilted her head.

His eyes sharpened. "Do you remember anything from last night?" He switched the fork to his left hand and cupped the back of her head with his right. "You hit your head. Does it still hurt?"

"Did I?" She raised her hand to touch the spot, and her fingers met between his. She blushed, and they both lowered their hands. "I guess I don't remember everything. I remember drinking, and I remember some guys talking to you then…" She squinted at the counter. "Then…"

"We were ambushed," Izaki filled in plainly.

Sumi's eyebrows flew up. "We were? By who?"

"That ass from the club. The one in the alley."

She frowned. "I don't remember. Are you all right? Your lip is swollen." She moved to touch the spot, but he gripped her wrist sharply.

"I'm fine."

Sumi wrinkled her forehead. "Let me see. It's not gonna kill you."

"I don't want your help."

She yanked her wrist away and flipped the new pancakes. "Whatever."

Izaki continued eating. "Speaking of last night, you owe me some change. You passed out before you could pay the bill."

Sumi arched a sly brow and faced him. "Funny. I'm impressed you didn't leave me there."

"The owner said he'd call the cops if I did."

She blew on her cheeks then spun away. "No one stopped you from leaving me in the street!"

Izaki swallowed some pancakes and watched her shove some sizzling bacon onto his dish. He picked up the plate then leaned over and kissed her temple. "Thanks." He took his breakfast to sit in the living room.

Sumi stared at the counter, as immobile as a five-ton statue. Did-Did he just kiss me? She touched her flushed face but smiled down at the pans. Then she frowned and threw her eyes up at the clock over the stove. "Oh my God!"

Izaki looked up from his plate and watched the girl scramble around the apartment in a fit of mumbling and stumbling. He didn't realize what she garbled until she burst out of her bedroom in her school uniform and shouted, "I'm so late for school!" And she barreled out the front door, slamming it behind her.

Izaki blinked at it. "Hm." He got up from his seat, walked to the stove, and turned it off. His eyes absently scanned the apartment.

It was not a full minute she set her foot through the doorway when Meiko closed in like a bird of prey. "Oh my God, the new freshmen are delicious." She spoke the last word like it was chocolate melting in her mouth. "There's a particularly cute one, Kirishima Hiromi, that just way surpasses the others though. He's a little quiet, and a total ruffian, but it's so hot." She giggled then set her fits on her hips. "And what did you do last night, huh?"