The brown-haired boy sighed, fidgeting with the keyring on his belt. The sunlight caught the back of his neck, causing him to roll his eyes. Already the Okinawa sun was getting on his nerves. The train jolted to a stop, the screech of the breaks hurting his ears. "Current stop: Tsukuyami. Current stop: Tsukuyami." With a sigh, he stood up from the seat and exited the train.

Immediately, the harsh sunlight was all over him, making him squint. Young children ran around playing a game of tag, while several teenagers his age could be seen skateboarding nearby. As he walked past, hands in his pockets and eyes on the sidewalk, they noticed him and approached. The tallest, a boy with a bad dye job, sneered and blocked his path. "You're not from around here, are you?" It was more statement than question.

The brown haired boy turned his head, not looking any of them in the eye. "I have somewhere I need to be."

Bad Dye Job stepped forward, face scrunched up tight with anger. "So you're not going to look at me, huh? Do you know who I am?"

"You sure don't wanna give him any shit," a short, chubby boy barked, trying his hardest to look tough even though it was obvious he was the DUFF.

"I'm Kazuma! Kazuma Hinami," Dye Job growled, jutting his chin out. "You can't just step into my town and think you can get away with disrespecting me like that."

The boy didn't reply, instead standing silently while looking at the pavement. He only looked up when Kazuma tipped his chin upwards, glaring in his face. "Go on, say something," he snarled, just itching for a fight.

The boy remained silent for several moments, trying to think of how he'd reply to the taunt. Finally, a small grin curled his lips up as he looked Kazuma in the eye. "Can you back up? I'm not into men."

The taller boy yanked his head back, completely speechless from the retort. While his cronies snickered, Dye Job got angry. "You two, shut up!" he snarled. They both fell silent immediately. Dye Job turned back to the boy, sneering fiercely. "You think you could throw me off like that? Get real! Get ready to get your ass beat, you punk."

Just as he stepped forward, a plain-looking car rolled up to the sidewalk. An old woman - truly old enough to be a grandmother - stuck her head outside the window. "Shizuo Yuzuru?" she called, looking at the boy.

Shizuo nodded, walking towards the car. Dye Job and the others watched him silently, for some reason seeming unnerved by the old woman. Opening the door, he climbed into the front seat as the car drove off. The old woman driving sighed, pushing up her antiquated glasses. "Honestly. They told me you were going to be a handful, but picking a fight as soon as you got here? Just know I don't tolerate any of that nonsense." She turned sharply, almost throwing him against the car door. A car horn honked loudly in protest at the lady's poor driving, but she merely shrugged it off and continued on her way. "Nanachi. Nanachi Osana," she finally said, not taking her eyes off the road.

"Uh, Shizuo. Shizuo Yuzuru," he replied awkwardly.

"I know that already. Don't kids these days remember anything?" Grumbling, she turned into a small driveway. Her house was small and cramped-looking, held on stilts above the uneven ground. The moment she opened the door, the scent of bran muffins and watery chicken filled his nostrils. Shizuo tried not to gag as he followed her inside. He hadn't been paying any attention to her spouting off until that point. "And last rule: Don't cause any trouble. Tsukuyami's a quiet town and I don't need a punk like you disturbing the peace." With a sour face, she glanced at him before approaching and touching the silver cross necklace he wore. At that moment, her expression softened a little. "Hmph. At least you seem to understand the Lord and His wisdom."

Should I tell her I'm not religious? he wondered. Instead, he opted to remain silent, not wanting to get on her bad side anymore than he already had.

"Your room is upstairs to the right," she said, walking out of view into the kitchen.

Shizuo walked upstairs, noting the creaky groan of each stair and the water stains across the paint. Just how old is this house…? His room was hardly better. Covered in a thick layer of dust, he had to duck so his head didn't touch the ceiling. Osana's one-story house only had an attic upstairs, causing the rooms to be claustrophobic and tiny. At 6'1, he would no doubt have issues with mobility. The bed was too small for him, and his feet jutted out the bottom. The only saving grace was a small skylight, allowing a rectangle of sunshine to warm up the carpeted floor. On the dresser, a folded-up school uniform sat neatly with a note on top. Shizuo took the note and started to read it.

Here's your school uniform. It's called St. Katherine High. You'll be starting tomorrow, so make sure to wake up early. I'm not doing that for you. The ferry leaves at 7:30 am sharp.

- Osana

With a sigh, he crumpled the note before tossing it in the trash can. Honestly, he'd been surprised when he saw her house. He expected country people to have more traditionally-styled houses. Osana didn't even have tatami mats. It was set up completely like a Western home. Then again, she was pretty strange.

Since he had things to unpack, Shizuo began to clean, making sure the dust was mostly gone. His work was cut out for him. As soon as he finished something, it seemed another problem cropped up. By the time all the dust was gone and his clothes were unpacked, hours had passed until the sun had set. Sweat dripped down his neck, the attic having been stuffy and cramped. I think I'll get a drink. In the kitchen, Osana was making a pot of oolong tea.

"Hm? Why are you so dirty?"

"I was cleaning," he replied simply, sitting down at the table.

With a simple sniff in reply, she poured him a cup. Her china was fine, which surprised him that she'd let him touch it. Considering his past record, he figured nobody would ever let him touch something so expensive.

"Is that a tattoo?"

In reaching for the tea, the sleeve of his shirt had pulled upward, revealing the tattoo on his left side. Unwilling to meet her gaze, he sipped the beverage. It was a simple thing really: a rabbit. But even so, tattoos were a strict no-no in Japan. Especially when you were a minor. And by the disappointed gaze of Osana, he could tell she also agreed with those sentiments. Finishing the tea as quickly as possible, Shizuo headed upstairs before flopping down on the bed and checking his phone. As usual, it was without any notifications. Of course his "friends" had left him in the mud once he had been caught and disciplined. They had only remained by his side because he was useful to them.

Maybe this is a good thing, he thought, looking up at the ceiling blankly. The baby-blue stared back at him, much closer to his face than he was comfortable with. He'd done things back in Tokyo - things he'd rather not remember. Gang activity, smoking, tattoos, etc. Thankfully nothing too illegal, but even so…. And to think it was all just a rebellious streak that raged out of control. Stroking the silver cross necklace for good luck, he fell asleep, too tired to even change into pyjamas.