"Uhnff!" The boy winced as he felt a fist collide with his nose. The others laughed as their classmate shook the long hair out of his scuffed face. He glared at them from the ground, but the three bullies only grinned. The biggest of the boys cackled nastily.

"See? Now you're going to lose your wallet, and your pride!"

The oldest of the trio turned to their victim and scoffed derisively. "Not like there's anything in it! But we'll take it anyway- unless you wanna try and stop us? Be a man?" He raised a fist towards the beaten boy.

The third bully spoke in a wiry voice. "No way! He's just a wussy lil' coward!"

The unfortunate boy could only berate his attackers.

"Ngh... you're the cowards!"

The cretins laughed again, but stopped when a loud voice sounded from nearby.

"Eh, I gotta agree wit' him- three on one ain't 'brave', that's for sure."

The pint-sized tormentors hesitated when they saw a lanky figure step into the alleyway. The strange teen was definitely older than they were- likely by several years. He was wearing a blue uniform from the local high school, and a confident grin to match. The light-haired newcomer smirked and pointed at the troublemakers.

"So, how's about we make this more fair? You three- against us." The blonde interloper smirked as he pointed to the baffled bullies. The grade schoolers shared some nervous glances- this guy looked serious. And now that he was closer, they could see that he was very tall. The largest punk gave an over-exaggerated snort and waved to the other two.

"Pfth, we can't be bothered with that loser! C'mon, I wanna get to the arcade."

The other two boys hurriedly followed their 'leader' as he made his way past the intimidating teen.

The blonde only glared, his eyes following the brats until they reached the alley entrance. As soon as the aggressors were out of sight, he sighed.

"Gutless li'l twerps- you awright there?" Two amber-brown eyes stared down at the bullied boy.

The pre-teen nodded quietly, a little ashamed that he'd been saved by some random high schooler. "Yeah, thanks."

"No prob- whoops, looks like you got a bit of a bleeder there." The gangly teen quickly produced a clean tissue and handed it to the boy.

"Thanks." The raven-haired tween tilted his head backwards as he dabbed at his dripping nose.

Surprisingly, the Good Samaritan didn't leave. Instead, he took a seat on the worn pavement next to the discomfited kid.

"Try tippin' your head forward, not backwards- an' squeeze lightly. It'll stop faster."

The younger boy blinked in confusion, and the baffling blonde rubbed the back of his own neck. Now it was his turn to look somewhat embarrassed. "I, uh, got in a lotta scraps when I was your age."

"Oh."

There was an awkward silence, in which neither student was sure what to say.

The taller of the two eventually re-kindled the chatter. "You live 'round here?"

The young kid nodded cautiously- he still wasn't sure if he should trust this strange newcomer.

"Ah. Well, I have to be at my job in an hour; but I can walk ya there, if it's not far."

Two grey eyes turned downwards at those words. Oh. So he was just trying to protect him again.

"Anyway, my name's Jounouchi. Jounouchi Katsuya." He gave a wide grin, but the chagrined boy didn't respond. "Ah. Rough day, eh? Yeah, I've had some a those m'self. Well, jus' let me know when we get to your block, an' I'll scram."

The bleeding boy weighed his options, and decided to trust the tall guardian. "Ok." He got to his feet slowly, wincing as he felt the bruises and scrapes from earlier.

"Need a hand?"

The determined tween shook his head, and finally stood up. The pair made their way out of the dismal alley, and headed down the city sidewalk.

There was silence for several blocks. The boy only spoke when they needed to change their direction. Sensing the mood, the fair-haired teen stayed quiet as well.

The black-haired tween decided he didn't want the strange brawler knowing where he lived. So after a while he just pointed to a random home and said it was his.

The blonde nodded, oblivious to any deceit. "Gotcha! I'll get goin' then- don't wanna be late."

"Um, thanks."

The older teen grinned broadly and waved before walking away. "Anytime! You take care now, awright?"

The boy waved back, but didn't move until the strange 'Jounouchi' guy was out of sight. He then immediately turned to the right and started walking. He didn't stop until he'd reached a very dilapidated apartment building. The front steps were littered with garbage, and the hand rails were covered with rust.

A well-worn key turned in a discolored door lock, leading to the opening of a very tiny apartment. The boy sighed as he put down his school bag. He only needed to walk a few feet to reach the bathroom. He rapidly brushed through his jet-black hair before wiping away the blood from under his nose.

A few minutes later, the latch-key kid headed into their undersized kitchen. He wanted to work on cooking some sort of dinner. The options were limited. There was very little in the half-pantry, save for some off-brand cereal and stale bread. After a bit of searching, the boy found a bargain-brand box of cheesy pasta and decided it would have to do.

Half an hour later, there was the sound of another key turning in the lock, followed by the warped door creaking open.

"I'm home." An exhausted voice called out through the tiny apartment.

"Seto!" The boy turned from the stove and saw his beloved older brother step inside. "You're just in time; I'm making dinner!"

The teenager slowly closed the door. His tired, blue eyes shifted to his only relative. "And did you finish your homework first?"

The boy gave a weak smile and tried not to look down. "Erm, not really..."

The overworked brunette sighed. "I've told you, Mokuba, the most important thing is your education. I can make dinner tonight."

"But you're exhausted!" The black-haired boy protested. "You're working yourself to death, big brother! You have three jobs!"

Seto Kaiba shook his head- it was getting harder and harder to argue with his only sibling. The boy was growing- not just taller, but smarter.

'Still... he has a point.' The pinched teen sat down at the old, plastic table in their meager 'kitchen.'

Three jobs.

It was hard to believe that such a bright young prodigy had ended up a minimum-wage slave. The few people who knew Seto Kaiba also knew that he had a brilliant mind- with ambition to match. He could easily have been the top student of any graduating class.

But, sadly; things had not turned out well for the two dark-haired boys. Back when Seto was 12 and Mokuba was barely 6, their parents both died in a car accident. The two were then shunted back and forth between their inept relatives until the inheritance money ran out. The heartless skinflints then dumped the brothers in a low-grade orphanage, and disappeared.

It was hard enough for Seto to survive, but Mokuba was more timid and gentle. The shy boy was quickly targeted by the 'home's' delinquents. He was bullied relentlessly, and eventually the older brother feared for his sibling's well-being. It took weeks of planning, and even a bit of 'borrowing' from the staff's wallets; but eventually the two were able to escape to the nearby city of Domino.

Seto enrolled Mokuba into the closest school, and managed to secure their rat-hole of an apartment for the first month.

It felt wonderful to be free, but Seto knew there was no way they could survive without some sort of income. So the proud teen quickly took any job he could get. With the economy still doing poorly, and no real ID or records, he had a hard time impressing potential employers. But the clever teen soon found lying about his age and experience could help. Eventually, Seto was working for three separate places, all of them barely paying minimum wage.

But it was worth it. Every day he came home, and his brother was looking far less afraid, and much more healthy. The tween was starting to enjoy life, while finally gaining some (much needed) self-esteem.

Still, they were living below the poverty line. And to Seto Kaiba, that was just not acceptable. He wanted more for his brother and himself. But without even a high-school diploma to his name, there weren't many options.

The weary teen spent many nights lying awake, contemplating their future. He wanted Mokuba to get into a good college, and someday have the chance to pick whatever field he wanted to work in. But for now, the only thing he could do was help was fix their dinner.

"Here, I'll finish up the meal- go start on your homework." The brunette ushered the pre-teen into their living room/bedroom. "And I want to see everything when you're done!"

Mokuba rolled his eyes as soon as his brother looked away. He wasn't a first-grader, jeez! But he reluctantly left the stove behind and grabbed his shabby backpack. The worn, red bag had several patches holding it together, and the zipper was very hard to open.

Eventually, the 10 year-old managed to get out all of his books, and he began filling in the worksheets he'd postponed. Meanwhile, the eldest of the family was stirring the so-called 'cheese' into the pasta mix. He couldn't help but grimace at the unappealing, orange glob that resulted.

'Bargain brands...' Seto's nose wrinkled slightly as he doled out the cheesy abomination into two chipped, porcelain bowls. "Mokuba, dinner's done."

The boy looked up from his math book, his eyes lighting up. Although a bit small, the meal was much appreciated, and the two sat on their wobbly chairs at the worn table.

Neither brother spoke much as they ate- Seto was struggling to stay awake, and Mokuba felt bad trying to hold a conversation with the worn-out teen.

An hour later, Seto had gone over his brother's homework, pointing out any wrong answers- but not correcting them. Mokuba knew the routine: he'd try and correct his mistakes, and then Seto would fall asleep on the couch. He knew if he had questions he could ask his brother the next morning, when they walked to Mokuba's school. But for now, the brown-haired worker was headed for the only furniture that he could even sleep on.

The paltry apartment had only one bed, and it was an aged twin. Mokuba tried insisting that his brother take the bed, but Seto refused. Truth be told, it wasn't solely his parental-like instinct- the fact was, at just over 6', a twin bed was in no way a comfortable resting place for the 17 year-old. Instead, he'd always taken the well-worn sofa they'd found sitting on the curb one day.

The fatigued teen spoke a few words before lying down for the night.

"Goodnight, Mokie. Tomorrow will be better."

Mokuba felt a faint smile touch his lips. Ever since their first night at the orphanage, Seto always said those words to him before going to sleep. They didn't always come true, but at least it sounded like they still had some hope left.

"Goodnight, big brother."