These wont be very long. There maybe come once a week since I'm also working on a book. I'm 15 so take in some time for school. If a lot of people like this, meaning five reviews or something, then I'll make sure to make another Chapter.

Warning: BoyxBoy, Lemon later maybe, Minor abuse, cussing

Also English isn't my first language, there might be some minor spelling mistakes because I don't have a beta at the moment. I hope you don't mind :D Enjoy.

A blond man wearing blue sunglasses and a trademark bartender suit, looking around the age of 22 or 23-years-old, walked along side a dark-skinned man who wear a dark brown cotton suit and had brown curly dread locks. The two walked along side to a fair-sized house built of white plaster with the most god-awful-looking picket fence in the world.

The blond man knocked on the door and in a moment or two, an old man opened it. The old man wore a faded yellow golfing shirt and long brown khakis. He scowled in till he realized who it was at his door. At which point, he tried to slam the door but of course, the ex-bartender wouldn't allow that, he easily ripped the door off its hings and welcomed himself, as well as his dark-skinned partner, inside.

"H-how can I help you Mr. Tom-san, Mr. Shizuo-san." The man shuddered, clearly afraid as he sat on the brown sofa in the living room, the two men sitting across from him in dark blue arm chairs.

"Mr. Ryugamine, don't play dumb, were here for the money you owe us." The man now known as Tom said, crossing his legs and leaning back in the chair. It was true, Mr. Ryugamine knew what they wanted. He had brought so much beer and gambled so much ever since his son left. The man had no one to take out his anger on now that Mikodo left him for Ikebukuro. Stupid boy, this was his fault.

"I-I don't have the money, I-I'll have it in a week!" The old man promised. Tom snapped his hands and the man known as Shizuo stood up, cracking his fingers. Mr. Ryugammine flinched, putting his hands up above his head and preparing for the punch that was sure to come. Wait a minute... if his son got him into this mess he could surly get him out, right? Brilliant idea.

"I can pay you in a different way!" The old guy shouted and the brown suited man put up a hand, silently telling the blond man to wait a moment. "I can give you my son! He's 16-years-old a-and and-" He was cut off by the fake blond man who punched him in the face, sending him across the room.

"YOU'D SELL YOUR SON!? THAT REALLY PISSES ME OFF!" The blond man shouted. Tom got up and put a hand of his friend's shoulder, telling him it was okay and to clam down. Over time, the old man stood up, taking his seat back on the sofa.

"You'd really give us your son to pay off your debts?" The dark-skinned man asked, sightly interested.

"Yeah, he's all yours!" The old man grinned, muttering something about 'he's useless anyhow' under his breath.

"Okay. In that case I'll take him." Tom said, smirking and holding back his friend from ripping the man's head off. "Drop him back at this address Monday at 1:00pm on the dot." He order, handing the man his black business card. The older man bowed showing his gratefulness.

(I'm a page breaker, fear me!)

"Y-You did what?!" A slender, feminine looking teen with short black hair and sky blue eyes asked. He growled, he was furious. If anyone knew this young man they would know that he never got mad or annoyed. But this was to damn far. Who sells their teenage son, who they hadn't seen in three months, to two random strangers.

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS, I'M NOT YOURS TO SELL!" The teenager shouted, tears gathering in his eyes. This was impossible. He had come to Ikebukuro for two reasons, the first was to met up with his old friend, Masaomi Kida and the other reason was to get away from his abuses father. Ever since he mother had died when he was nine, his father had beaten him almost daily. Of course the abuse was nothing that bad, cuts with knifes on the heels of his feet, salt wounds, but the worse was the feeling that his dad could kill him at any second and no one would know. He hated feeling so helpless.

"Shut up and get packing! You have five minutes before something bad happens!" The older man screamed. The teenager knew he was still helpless and was so weak and skinny that he would lose in a fight with his old man, so he did as he was told, tears riding down his cheeks.

(I'm a page breaker, fear me!)

"Are you serious about having a kid working here?" The fake blond asked, drinking a cup of milk that the waitress as brought him a moment ago. After the two had a long day of work, they would always come to Russia Sushi, where a good friend of there's, Simon worked. Said Russian was now on his lunch break and sitting with them.

"Sure why not, besides, I'm sure that working with us is better than whatever life he's having with that drunken fart." The dark-skinned man replied nonchalantly, dropping a sushi in his mouth.

"What his name?" Simon asked curiously.

"We don't know the kid's name, his father's is Ryugamine." The blond almost hissed, just thinking about it. He would need to take his anger out on someone, perhaps those gangs he saw outside the shop?

"Ryugamine? I know son! Mikado Ryugamine." The Russian said, catching the other two men's attentions "He good kid, very trust worthy and shy. He come here often with two friends."

"Huh... " Tom said thoughtfully. Shizuo didn't say anything. He thought it would be a bad idea, after all he would never forgive himself if he killed some good trustworthy kid.