Inaba is my prison. It confined me just as securely as any cell. The judge, in his eminent mercy, threw me here instead of some juvenile rehab center. Don't take me wrong, I considered myself damned lucky. The wages of attempted fraud are grave. Most would have gotten jail time at least, especially considering the circumstances under which I had been caught. To have escaped that, and be given a chance to start anew... It was a chance to start again that not many people got.

Too bad Inaba was simply a town of prison wardens.

My story reads like any good Charles Dickens novel. Hero grows up an orphan, falls in with some unsavoury characters, gets caught and is sent back into the care of upstanding members of society. Except, Oliver and Pip ended up with social mobility and a happy ending. Not exile to the countryside and a black mark to my name that I couldn't wash off. No self-respecting high-school or employer would touch me with a meter long stick. Japan can be cruel like that.

Still, I don't regret my stint in the underbelly of society, though I certainly wished I'd never had to enter it. A boy on the run has to eat somehow, and after the orphanage closed down and the rest of the kids were dispersed to various homes, there weren't a lot of places unwanted runts like Keiichi and I could go. Keiichi was this brash kid who made all the wrong decisions for all the right reasons. He was genuinely a good guy, but was pretty much destined to a lifetime of troublemaking. And as the older one, even by only three months, I got saddled with trying to keep him out of it.

That was what I learned in the orphanage; to look out for your friends, and trust that they would too. As everybody's rejects, all we had left to rely on were each other.

Which is why I had chased after him when he ran off, the night before the social workers had arrived to take us away. All the while, he kept yelling about refusing to get transferred to another orphanage, or get bounced around foster homes again. Really, I could see his point, but he was just so stubborn about it, that I decked him out of pure frustration. Not my smartest decision. He wasn't younger by much, and he was built like a gorilla. He got up quickly and floored me just as fast.

"Follow me, aniki," That idiot had said. "Follow me, Saito. I'm strong. And you're always reading those books, yeah? And books make you smart. So you gotta be smart! Then we'll make billions of yen. We'll make our own home. We'll have a big car and a big house, with lotsa pretty maids in it and a garden with that…that bamboo-water thing that goes *doink*…like proper rich folks! Then ain't nobody ever gonna take us where we don't want to anymore! Nobody's gonna tell us 'Pack you things, boy' and send us off again! So you gotta come too! You don't have to go off on your own, we'll get rich together!" Toji had ranted breathlessly, arms flailing about. It was a dark night, but even I could have heard the shit-eating grin in his voice.

So I followed him. Someone had to look after the 14 year old idiot. His vision of wealth came straight out of manga, he didn't even know what a shishi-odoshi was, and by god, I wasn't going to miss out on the maids he'd promised. Look out for your friends, right? I couldn't leave him on his own.

If I had, I would have been alone too, my final semblance of a family lost forever in the wind. I didn't want to admit it back then. Not until it was a little too late. Not until it was far too bitter to swallow the awful epiphany.

So, a fat lot of good I did for him in the end.

"Kurosawa! Are your listening to me?"

I snapped out of my thoughts and quickly stood to attention. Poised at the front of the classroom, hands stuffed into his pockets, my ethics teacher was giving me a moody death glare.

"Yes Mr. Morooka. Hanging on every word, sir." I gave a smile in chagrin. I knew if I didn't play my cards right, this could get ugly.

"Yeah? Well, it damn sure looked like you weren't. You looked like you were daydreaming about something! Wanna share what's so much more interesting than class, Kurosawa?" he drawled.

Nice try, but the trick here is to neither answer the question, nor rebut the accusation.

"I'm sorry, sir. I was just trying to figure out the lesson. I'm having trouble keeping up, you see?" I looked down, rubbing the back of my neck and basically tried to act the role of an embarrassed and not-too-bright student. Most would have left it at that.

Not him.

He sneered. "Figures. Troublemakers like you are only good for making trouble. You got no business going to school, mooching off society's charity, trying to "turn over a new leaf". A leopard will never change its spots, and a criminal scum is always a criminal scum. Tch. Just my luck to have to put up with a no-good delinquent. And a stupid one too."

I succeeded in keeping the strain away from my false smile. My hands, however, clenched hard into fists on the tabletop. I focus on some other feature. Anything to distract me.

To call Morooka buck-toothed was an understatement. It was more like his teeth unilaterally decided to double as a moustache and grew out of his mouth. I kept my eyes on it, watching it bob up and down as he enthusiastically ranted on and on.

I wondered what sound teeth that big would make as they shattered under a crowbar.

Tension eased from my jaw. My hands were still paralyzed into tight fists, though.

Keep cool Saito. You've handled hairier stuff than this before.

Eventually, the red faded from my gaze. Morooka's ranting dissolved into sonic wallpaper in the background. I pretended to pay attention, while observing the rest of the classroom.

The kids listened on silently. Moron's ranting is a pretty typical thing, but apparently, he's gotten worse since I've entered. He's gotten more venomous, less subtle and less tolerant. In the same breath he had used to introduce me, he had also announced to the whole class that their new classmate was a convicted delinquent, and that if they knew what they were doing, they would steer the hell away from me or be dragged down into a life of troublemaking.

Sad thing is, unpopular as his opinion usually was, this time the class accepted it.

No sympathetic gestures, no signs of discomfort at Morooka's bullying. Just tacit approval that today, he had picked on an acceptable target.

I bit and held on to my tongue, still maintaining that painful smile.

Bastards.

Bastard King Moron.

Moron ran out of steam when the bell eventually rang. Irritably dismissing the class, he stalked out of the room, while the students quickly erupted into relieved conversation. I lowered myself gingerly into my seat, the back of my knees aching from standing throughout the long rant. Breathing a long sigh and packing my things, I didn't notice a classmate approach me.

"Um, excuse me, Kurosawa-san?"

I gazed up at the unsure voice. Yukiko Amagi stood with her hands behind her back and her eyes down. Behind her, a protective Chie Satonaka backed her up, agitatedly shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"Yes Amagi-san?" I was surprised by my hoarseness, although it complemented the agitated mood I was still in. I cleared my throat to relief the tightness.

Her eyes darted up from the ground as she prepared to say something. Whatever it was, it got stuck in her throat for a while, her mouth gaping open as silent non-words escaped. She quickly looked back down and swallowed, finding her voice again.

C'mon, did I really scare them that much?

Oh yeah, convicted delinquent. How could I forget?

"I-I'm…sorry that you had to put up with Mr. Morooka. He's...usually not that bad."

I blinked in surprise.

I studied her. As in, really took her in seriously for the first time. Dressed in red, with long black hair and a dignified (if nervous) stance, Miss Amagi looked every bit the heiress that she was. Not exactly rich, but she was one of the few lucky enough to have been raised in privilege, history and tradition. A long shot from a lot of the rich snobs I've seen in my time in Tokyo, loud and obnoxious types who paraded down Ginza. No, Amagi was a proper lady. A real Yamato Nadeshiko.

Which was not a little jarring compared to her best friend standing behind.

Chie Satonaka was a tomboy. A kungfu worshipping, Bruce-Lee-imitating lad-ette with a strange penchant for green fashion and a terrific appetite for red meat. Even now, she was a bundle of compact energy, barely contained under bouncing brown hair and restless long legs.

My eyes shifted back to the apologetic girl in front of me. I could read unease and embarrassment from her little micro expressions, but at the same time, genuine remorse, not just in her body language, but also in the tone she had used.

Huh. What d'ya know?

I relaxed, and gave a sincere, grateful smile. Seriously, I did. It was the first friendly gesture I've received from my classmates since I entered four months ago.

"Thank you. You didn't have to apologize though, it's hardly your fault."

She shook her head. "I don't think so. We thought it was okay, since he picked on everyone, and we could all just put up with it like we always do. But today, he was…" Amagi hesitated to find the right words.

"Vicious?" I offered.

"Yes. I think—well, Chie and I think, that Mr. Morooka went too far," she said, nodding her head.

"Yeah! He was totally picking on you! I mean, that's not fair at all, and umm…you looked really mad just now, just standing there smiling and taking it."

I observed the brunette who had exclaimed suddenly. She had stepped forward and stood beside Amagi. Satonaka looked as if she had been bottling that up for a while, and releasing it had also given her an outlet for all that nervous energy.

I addressed her with a grimace. "Well, it's not as if he hasn't been doing that since I came in. Guess my temper must be slipping if others are finally noticing."

Amagi visibly winced (It was even an elegant wince too) at that last part, but Satonaka had gotten on her horse and wasn't about to get down any time soon.

"Yeah, you were sooo tensed up, like you were going to open a can of whoopass on him. Like Bruce Lee staring down some thugs, then HWATAA snap kick him into the desk or something." She stopped and scratched her chin nervously. "Eh heh heh, but your face was so calm. Like nothing he said got to you at all. It was…kinda scary Kurosawa-san. Everything else was screaming kungfu fighting time, but you just kept on smiling…"

I wasn't expecting Satonaka, of all people, to have seen through me. Then again, perhaps it's because of her martial arts background? She probably recognises when a person's body is ready to lash out to visit violence. The set of the shoulders, the paleness of the skin as blood left the surface and flooded the muscles, the unnatural stillness…

"Wow Satonaka-san, should I feel flattered that you were observing me that closely?" I grinned and winked.

She flustered as she stamped her foot. "Wha-whaat? I-I was just saying it like I saw it. Ahahaha…"

That drew a short laugh from me. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by that. But yes, King Moron really got under my skin just now. He certainly charmed me with his warm and friendly personality."

Satonaka laughed while Amagi giggled at the sarcasm. Tension defused, I hoped. It's a basic trick I learned to get people to lower their guard around me. A well-timed joke can ease hostility and build rapport, especially when it's at the expense of a common enemy.

Was I trying to scam them? No. I was simply applying my old skills to get some allies.

To get some friends again.

The spunky brunette held out a hand. "You know, you don't seem like the bad sort, Kurosawa-san. Call me Chie-chan from now on, okay?"

Amagi nodded politely and joined in. "Please, feel free to call me Yukiko-chan as well. Amagi-san sounds more like something a guest would address my mother."

I grasped Satonaka's—no Chie's hand, and gave it the customary single, strong shake. "Then both of you can use my first name too. I look forward our time together."

Smiles all around. Ladies and gentlemen, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.