Pockets yawned heavily as he lunged back into reality. It had been a while since he actually had a good night's rest. Longer than he could remember. He attempted to look around and discovered that he had a powerful pain in his neck. Nothing good came from sleeping on stairs, or maybe it was the skates.

He stood up in just his socks and did a full 360 scan. It was definitely morning but no one was awake yet, still he could hear the distant sound of skates pressing against metal. He figured it was someone getting some early morning practice in.

Pockets grabbed his worn blades by the heels and picked them up, too lazy to put them on. From there he began to wander aimlessly, taking note of the GG's sprawled out across the garage's floor. He didn't want to step on anyone. He began walking up the stairs, curious to see if Corn was awake, and before he could fully ascend he heard a voice that he recognized as DJ Professor K. He had heard of him recently but not much at that.

When he finally pulled his half-limp body up the stairs he could see that Corn was awake. "'sup Corn." Pockets said sniffling, still half asleep. Corn said nothing to him and reached over the side of the couch he was sitting on. He retrieved a small notepad and tossed it at Pockets who clumsily caught it. Pockets eyed the notepad, there were letters written hastily on it and to make it worse they were hardly legible. "What's this?" He asked.

"A shopping list." Corn replied turning his attention back towards the radio. "If you wanna live here, you gotta carry your weight." Pockets still had a few questions but Corn was obviously absorbed in what DJ Professor K had to say. He tuned in and waited for him to finish.

"...Just recently," The DJ continued with a quiet, whisper-like voice. "A group of rudies were spotted over in Kibogaoka Hill and not the usual variety. These kids wore flaming red skates and apparently call themselves the Hell Blazers . Not too long ago, Poison Jam claimed that area and now it seems that this new gang is steppin' in on their turf. And I don't think our fiendish friends take too kindly to visitors. Cover yo eyes kiddies 'cus it's about to get nasty..."

The DJ finished up his broadcast and started playing music over the radio. "What was that about?" Pockets asked.

"You never heard of Jet Set Radio?" Corn asked giving Pockets a strange look.

"Well yeah, but I don't remember much about it... I don't remember much about anything." Pockets stared at Corn who had a confused look on his face.

"What do you mean you don't remember much about anything?" Corn asked raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"Nevermind," Pockets responded. He dropped his skates to the ground and shoved one foot inside them. "Where the hell am I supposed to get this stuff, anyway?" He asked looking over the notepad. The list requested that he get two sticks of deodorant, four liters of soda, a box of pizza, and two bags of skizzles.

Corn reached into his pocket pulling out a couple of dollars with Rokkaku Gouji's face still printed on them. He pinned them together with a rubber band and tossed them to Pockets. "Try the mall on Dogenzaka Hill. Just head out that way." Corn pointed at an exit from the garage. "And watch out for those Golden Rhino fools."

"Yeah," Pockets replied flatly while strapping up his second skate. He picked up the money and pushed himself upright. Without another word he skated away, leaping off the platform and heading for the exit.

...

Pockets rolled up to the entrance of the mall and slid to a stop, noticing a sign that said "NO SKATING" in bold red letters. He ignored it and passed inside anyway, strolling at a controlled speed to keep from attracting too much attention.

He passed a store called A-mart that he assumed would be selling what he needed. Without much thought he headed inside. He noticed the store was pretty much empty except for a guy off in the corner who looked around his age with fiery red hair. But what stood out were the skates he was wearing, white with red flames creeping up on the heels.

Pockets wanted no part of him and rolled up and down the aisles, quietly patrolling for deodorant and soda. He saw a whole cooler full of two-liter bottles of soda in the back of the store. Slowly rolling over to it he opened it up and removed one bottle of orange soda and one more strawberry soda.

With two bottles of soda under his arm headed back up to the counter picking up two sticks of deodorant on the way. He dropped the stuff off and let the shopkeeper scan the items while he picked up two bags of skizzles from under the counter and added it to the mix.

"eleven dollars and ninety-nine cents," the shopkeeper remarked after finishing scanning the merchandise. He stood with one hand on his hip as he waited for the payment. Pockets reached in his pocket and found that Corn had paid him in only ones.

"Shit, all I got is ten dollars." He said placing the bills on the counter. That's when the redhead kid rolled up and placed an extra two dollars on top of Pockets' money, giving him a smirk. "Good lookin' out," Pockets said taking the stuff. Avoiding eye contact, he started to walk out the store but was stopped before he could leave.

"Wait," The kid called out. Pockets looked back at him to here what he had to say. "Let's walk and talk," He suggested catching up with Pockets and laying an arm on his shoulder. The two of them exited the store and merged into the crowd of shoppers where they were basically hidden. "You part of the GG's?" The kid asked. Pockets pondered on the question for a bit and decided to find out more about this guy before handing him information.

"Who are you?" Pockets asked.

"My name's Flare. I'm a rudie like you," He replied with a devious grin. His icy blue eyes stood in sharp contrast from the rest of his blood red attire. This guy was obviously associated with the Hell Blazers. Even his name pointed in that direction. "So what's your answer, are you a GG or not?"

"I'm not. I'm not in a gang," was Pockets' simple answer. He had hoped that Flare couldn't detect his lie.

"Then how would you like to join ours?" Flare pressured him.

"Yeah, I don't think so." Pockets turned away from Flare and maneuvered deftly through the crowd in an attempt to escape Flare, but it was difficult with his hands full of food and care products. Needless to say, It wasn't working. The red head rudie was on his tail and Pockets knew the only way to get away from him would be to break out in a full on sprint, but doing so would definitely attract too much attention. Instead he turned to face Flare once more. "What!?" He snapped quietly.

"I'm offering you one last chance," Flare continued confidently. "But this time I wanna make you a deal. How does fifty bucks sound?" Flare flashed a stack of bills in front of Pockets face but he just turned away saying, "my answer is the same. I won't join. So why don't you just get the fuck out of my face."

"Alright then," Flare muttered delivering a heavy punch to back of Pockets' head causing him to stumble. The crowd yelped in fear and surprise as the new rudie fell to the floor dropping everything he was holding. His vision was blurred for a moment but he regained his bearings and got back up on his feet. "I hoped it wouldn't come to down to this," Flare spoke, drawing his fists. "But we don't need any new enemies right now."

Pockets brought up his guard. By this time, everyone around them was either captivated in the fight or fleeing in excitement.

Flare swung wildly at Pockets continuously but all his attacks were easily blocked. However he managed to find a hole Pockets' defense and landed a hook to his jaw. Pockets' responded to the attack by kneeing his opponent in the stomach, forcing him to curl up in pain. Taking advantage of the moment, he gave Flare a vicious punch to the face, knocking him off balance but still he wouldn't go down. Flare repositioned himself and made another swing at the dazed rudie, landing on his chest.

Pockets put a balled hand over his paining chest and eyed the Hell Blazer in front of him. He had an evil grimace on his face, suggesting that he intended to finish of his victim. It was at this time that they heard a frantic voice yell, "That's them! Don't let them get away!"

Flare's face turned from one of pure malice to one of worry. "Have fun with the Rhinos," He snickered dashing off in a random direction. Pockets stood there with one hand on his knee and the other trying to massage the pain in his chest. He was having trouble breathing and was temporarily incapable of any kind of movement.

People were scrambling, running for the lives as a group of men in black trench coats and hats that concealed their identities approached the crippled rudie."That ain't one of them," One of them men said. Pockets noticed he was wearing a badge showing the symbol of a rhino against a golden background. These must've been the "Golden Rhino fools" Corn was talking about.

"Yes it is," Another of the men suggested. "Look, he's wearing skates. He's gotta be one of 'em."

"I've never seen him before. We should take him in for questioning," The first demanded once more. The rest of the Golden Rhinos seemed to comply as they approached Pockets cautiously. However the tattered GG refused to give himself up so easily. He darted off limply in a vain attempt to escape the men. They chased after him faithfully but he was able to remain out of reach long enough to escape the mall and get back on the street.

Off in the distance he could see two other GG's headed in his direction. With this reassuring sight he collapsed on the ground as the Golden Rhinos surrounded him.

"Ain't that Pockets!?" Garam asked in surprise as he made a last ditch effort to rescue the new GG. Garam was accompanied by another who wore a blue, long-sleeved shirt with a neck that covered his mouth and goggles on his forehead. His hair was nothing more than three or so orange knots resting atop his head. He was known as Soda

Using the element of surprise to his advantage Garam leveled one of the men and kicked another in the face with his heavy, red skate knocking him out instantly.

Soda socked one of the men in the face and followed it up with a elbow to the jaw. After this he was too dazed to get up. It was now two on two and the Golden Rhinos were starting to get serious. With a knife in one hand and handcuffs in the other they pounced on the GG's with the intent to either kill or capture.

Garam grunted as he pushed the Golden Rhino off of him. The blade had come within inches of his chest. He grabbed the Rhino's hand with the knife in it and wrestled him to the ground. Once he was pinned down, Garam snatched the knife from his hand and tossed it away where the man couldn't reach it.

Soda lifted his left leg and activated the jets in his skate to put extra power behind his kick. When it made contact with the Golden Rhino's stomach he was knocked back a few feet and too winded to get up. He was left clutching his stomach and groping in pain.

Soda slid over to the unconscious GG and asked, "this is Pockets?" Garam finished off his opponent before getting up and joining Soda.

"Yeah, that's him," Garam answered. Soda took a look at Pockets' swollen cheek.

"What happened to him?"

As if waiting for the fight to end, Pockets coughed himself awake realizing he had passed out. Maybe from a lack of oxygen. "Did I pass out?" He asked launching himself upright. He winced as the pain in his chest returned, though it was a little faded.

"Yeah man, you good?" Garam asked out of concern.

"I think so," Pockets answered holding his hands out, asking to be helped up. Both the other GG's grabbed one hand each and pulled him up on his feet which were still not fully awake. After a session of wobbling and rolling back and forth he finally gained his balance. "So why'd you come here? Did Corn know I would screw this up?" Pockets asked dusting off his shirt.

"Huh? We was just on our way to Shibuya terminal," Garam stated watching him wobble a little more. "Can you get to the garage by yourself?"

"Yeah, I think. Don't worry about me, I'll make it." Pockets answered skating around to test his stability.