Wicked Angel: Hahahahahaha. So now, I finally decided to write this charming guy a fic of my own. This faithful friend of the Sakuragi Hanamichi. This cute, charming and protective guy… None other than, YOUHEI MITO!!!!

::cheers::

::beams:: Ooooh! I'm gonna love this!!!! But beware: I still don't have any concrete plot in mind. By the way, readers, do you know Tomoe, the late wife of Kenshin Himura (samurai x?) visualize her. You might need the vision. Later.

Those in brackets are my own side comments. When I can't help it anymore.

Chapter 1

Mito

"I'm boredddd…" Takamiya announced for the 60th time with Ookusu and Sauichirro. They were on a park bench, sitting in every known position that connotes ultimate boredom. I was leaning on a cold steel rail, both of my hands dug in my faded jeans pocket. I glanced sideward and smiled good-humoredly. "What do you suggest?"

"Hunt Sakuragi down?" Ookusu suggested. I mused. Sakuragi paid less and less time with us. Basketball practice and all. I let out a breathe (I, by the way, do not consider it a sigh). The world really changes. That was then, this is now. Yech. I probably sound horrifying…you're turning into a lot of sap, Mito.

"Hunt trouble down?" Sauchirro pointed his 'snout'. I followed his gaze. Three beefy thugs are stalking a girl. They were probably in Tetsuo's age range. And they look like him. Like ex-cons. The girl gave a sharp glance at the back through the corner of her eye. She carried her legs faster. And they followed her faster. I stood up straight and shrugged my shoulders.

"Man, they don't have shame. Molesting a girl in this broad daylight? And in the park? They certainly choose the best place, huh?" I nodded. This meant go. And we did go. I didn't know that was the worst choice I could ever make.

Sakura

I snickered. First and foremost, I must maintain a cool appearance. Letting them know that I'm afraid as hell, then I'm busted. Really busted. As if I'm not already. I walked faster. I'm in the park and I knew it's the last place on earth I should've gone to. Shit. I'm in neck-deep shit. So…

So I ran blindly. Okay, so it's not exactly showing off a cool disposition. But I'm not dumb [running blindly is dumb, you idiot]. Okay. But Yamaichi already drew out iron knuckles. I knew he would hit me even in this broad daylight with ten thousand people watching. So I did what any twit with half a brain would do. I fled.

And of all places, I ended up in an isolated alley. With a dead-end. I see Fate is playing against me today. I inwardly shivered.

I glanced upwards, knowing that if there's only one place where some divine intervention would come from, it would be there. I scanned the clear blue skies. And found none. So much for hoping. So this is my time of death? I pictured what would happen if I stand in front of St. Peter with that large book in his hand. Okay, so this is not actually the time for imagination overdrive. [Exactly.] They took one decisive step forward. I whirled around to face them. And I met his eyes. Like I give a damn. The sight of him kindled the fire of hatred within me, engulfing everything, logic and even my fear.

"You chose the wrong decision, Sakura. You know you shouldn't have meddled with Yumi's affairs," Yamaichi's low growl ripped into my head. The wall scraped the thin clothing of my back. Damn.

I shrugged coolly. "If you're asking me where it is, I dumped it into the river."

That seemed to get him. He immediately threw any pretensions of control and his hands were immediately on my collar. Bad timing, girl. You shouldn't have told him, a small voice inside my head whispered.

"You did WHAT!" He shouted. But sadly, a demon took over my body and is decided to get me murdered today.

"I threw it into the river. Now, took your dirty hands off my shirt." Cover your mouth, now! But Yumi's cool, collected yet friendly face flashed in my memory. Yumi. And my eyes took a murderous glint. Don't say any one more wor--

"You killed her didn't you? It was no accident, you bloody murdering bastards…" I said coldly, my eyes trained on his pockmarked face with so much hatred. I hate him. I hate the very smell of him. He smells of blood. Like he kills everyday.

Then, I felt a solid blow hitting my stomach. Then another on left side of my face. That day I knew iron knuckles could really knock you out. I wheezed and lost my balance. Then, he gathered my hair and slammed my face on the wall before releasing me so I fell. Black patches dotted my vision as I staggered back. I was lying on the floor but I snickered again. I spat on the ground. My mouth tastes like blood. To hell with broken teeth and nose.

I trained my eyes into his again. You want fight? Sure. I do this everyday (minus the iron knuckles). I slowly stood up. My white linen blouse has blood in it. But I can't forget what they did to Yumi. Not ever. His sidekicks are behind him, waiting for his order to attack, tensed. Yet breaking any rational warning in my mind, I nimbly dug my right fist on his face. Hard. Then another in his stomach, feeling the hard muscle coil beneath my fist. Harder. And into his groin. Hardest. You deserve it, you fucking pricking bastard. All I know is I only see red. Red.

He staggered back, unguarded. "Bitch!" he yelled, holding his groin, squeezing in pain. His buddies were immediately beside him. A cold smile creeped into my face. His dogs were unprepared either. They didn't think I would retaliate. Haha. I would love this.

Mito

These guys are pathetic. Giving rough plays to -girls-? I don't need any more convincing to make me believe these freaks are gays. Yech.

Sakura

And then, four figures appeared on the alley. They look familiar. I can't see that well anymore. ['Cause you're left eye is practically closed already and the right is swimming in blood?] Well, one of his bloody dogs pinned my back, the other punched my face (giving me a sore black eye) and by the way, least of all, Yamaichi is giving me the honor of being his punching bag. I'm already kneeling on the floor and if not that freak twisted my arms at my back, I would be sprawled on the ground. I feel numb. Can't feel pain anymore. Blow after blow. Haha. Good news is, Yamaichi's face is sore as mine. I knew I could beat a guy up pretty well. Bad news is, I might be dead tomorrow and he might be still alive.

I don't know when will I pass out. I wish it could be now. Didn't know I'm made to endure such degradation.

Mito

We found them in a dark alley. Man, the girl is down. I wouldn't wonder. Why did they pick up on her? She doesn't look like anybody who would do harm. She wore a nice white blouse with tied strings at the armholes and one white pocket on her left chest. With one pair of decent jeans. She would've looked nice if there were no bloodstains and the likes. Sheesh, these guys, gays, play rough. Does she look like anybody who would do these uh, gays, harm? They're probably envious of her.

So, how should I say this? "Let her go," in a low, husky, girls' would scream for voice. Nah. I sound like those creepy films knight-rescues-a-damsel-in-distress. "You pathetic freaks." Yeah. More like it. But still wanting.

So, stalling for a second on which line should I say, Takamiya stole my role. "Let the princess go. We are the Knights in the Round Table in modern times a.k.a Sakuragi Guntai and we don't let any harassment of this kind happen especially to pretty girls!"

I cringed. I saw her snicker a little. So she's not yet unconscious so she has to witness that absolutely degrading moment? I wish she were. But back to the topic.

The bald guy with torn, holed, 10 rings hanging on that grossly hanging flesh he calls his ear faced us. His face looks awful. Did she do it? If she did, she's pretty stronger than I thought. He stopped punching her. "Who do ya think you are, you high school dropouts? Don't mess up with me. This isn't one of your usual petty games. Believe me." He laughed out loud menacingly.

"Oh yeah, I think I perfectly understand what you guys are doing. You're envious because she wears dress better (without even trying) than any of you would ever do in the next 100 years."

And that started it.

Sakura

Yamaichi gay? I can't believe it. I pictured it and I almost laughed if not my torn lips hurt like crazy.

So, that's why they are familiar. They came from Shohoku High. That red-haired monkey's friends. I wanted to laugh when that fatso announced their likeness to the Knights of the Round Table. I wonder why my skin didn't crawl up. If I had enough strength, I would greet them, "Hi, batchmates."

So, all I can do is watch them fight my fight. Which hurts my pride quite a little, but I felt relieved at the same time. Well, that freak who pinned me dropped me carelessly on the ground despite my broken, groaning and bruised body. But at least, I have the hope of getting out from this alive.

That hope took the figure of one lil fat guy with thick lips and glasses, one dark-haired with weird moustache (who looked like the ousted Philippine president), one with yellow afro hair (don't they make weird looks?) and one guys with slick black hair and pretty decent face.

That's what my Hope looked like.

Adrenaline rush stopped, my shock wore off and I'm starting to reap the consequences of my almost untimely death. Pain racked my brain and body. I tried my best not to groan, or show any sign of weakness or pain. And when the fight was already so interesting (I think that guy with slick black hair was their leader 'cause he's one-on-one with Yamaichi and his bloody iron knuckles), I passed out. Damn. I wouldn't be able to see how that fatso's incredible layers of blubber could deflect one powerful hook. Darkness enveloped me.

Mito

Man. My jaw hurts like crazy and my head is bleeding. I didn't know that fucked-up gay uses iron knuckles. What was he thinking? Punching a helpless girl with iron knuckles? I felt dizzy as I shook my head. At least those pea-brained slugs took off. Or else, we might as well as finish them off. Three less assholes in the world would make a big difference. Takamiya, Ookusu and Sauichiro are not in good shapes either, but well, still breathing. This has been the hardest rough play we ever encountered so far. Not really advisable for babies.

"Hey, come over here. She's unconscious," Takamiya was bent over the girl who was sprawled carelessly on the ground. "But I think, she's alive. We saved her."

"Man, she got it bad." Ookusu made tsk-tsk sounds. Like I couldn't see it?

"She would need real medical help. C'mon let's help her up." Sauichiro beckoned me to come. I bent down and tried hoisting her left arm across my shoulder while Ookusu wrapped her right arm across his. She stirred. I knew if she weren't that bloody, she would make a pretty picture of a girl. Melting brown eyes and long black lustrous hair and pale skin. Hehe. I'm sort of used in checking girls out. Hanamichi's fault. [ Yeah, that's right Mito. Blame that hormone overdrive of yours to your unknowing friend ::tsk tsk::]

She made a real effort to smile through her badly torn lips. Yet her eyes were still clear, trying to warn us. "Y-you shouldn't have come h-here. Y-you sh-shouldn't h-have h-helped me. Y-you're i-in t-the ll-list n-now. B-back o-out as early as y-you could." With that, she fainted again.

What does she mean by us being in the list? Somehow, it doesn't sound so good to me. In fact, it sent shivers up my spine.

[tsktsk. It shouldn't sound good to you, ol' bud. It's a warning, for heaven's sake. It's bad news. B-A-D. you get me?]

Wicked Angel: Chap.1, finally done. Bows.