A/N: Language warning. BIIIIG language warning.

Also, there is a sentence beginning with "At least" that will seem as though perhaps it was a typo and should have been "At last." It is not a typo; "At least" is correct. I'm slightly anal-retentive like that.

Three hundred gallons of love and thanks to Jade-eye! No one deserves it more than you.

Disclaimer: As usual, I only own Buji. And I don't think he even shows up in this chapter. Sob. Oh, and Seiko, I own him too. But he's not the type of child a mother likes to claim. Heheh.

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Leather and Lockets

Two

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Friday night could not come soon enough. Serena's brain warned her that it was not healthy to look forward so much to one thing, but she fairly floated through the week, concocting scenarios full of sparkle- and heart-laden dialogue, her and Lita declaring lifelong friendship, and Darien asking her to dance – although of course there wasn't really dancing at bonfires. Grinding, yes, and making out, yes – and other, stuff, yes – Serena flushed to the roots of her hair just thinking about it.

'He wouldn't blush,' pointed out her brain. 'He's from Roppongi, remember? You think he hasn't done things like that scads of times before?'

Only this thought managed to deflate Serena's elated reverie, and it happened at the most inconvenient time: while she was at the top of the pyramid again.

Boom! Down she tumbled, and was promptly sent back to the bench by her teeth-grinding coach.

"Back again," said Rei.

"Yes," said Serena, but her mind was occupied.

Call it wishful thinking, but she didn't think Darien was exactly typical Roppongi gang material. He'd had tons of chances to try anything on her already, if he had wanted to. But he hadn't. And he didn't talk the way that she imagined a violent delinquent would, with drawling and cursing and improper grammar all over the place. Not to mention, of course, the fact that he didn't have a beard. Or a mustache or an afro, or a Mohawk or even a head shaved bald. She shuddered. And when she'd mentioned college to him, he had seemed wistful – and what hardcore delinquent went to college?

That said, he did have gangster aspects to him. The motorcycle, for one, and his tattoo and his leather jacket and the bandanas and the suspicious packages and, of course, those injuries that looked as though they were from a knife-fight…

Serena stopped thinking, whirly-eyed. Okay, so maybe he was a gangster. But he was a nice, smart gangster. With killer eyelashes.

'Exactly!' exclaimed her brain. 'Killer!'

"That's not what I meant!" Serena wailed, digging her knuckles into her head."You're going schizo again," said Rei.

Serena sat up straight. "Sorry!"

"Sure you are." Rei rolled her eyes. She eyed Serena doubtfully for a minute. Then she sighed and tossed her hair. "Remember that gang you asked me about the other day?"

Serena blinked. "Y-yes?"

Rei tossed her hair again. "Well, I asked my dad about them. They call themselves the Wolves or something. He said they're pretty low-key. They operate at the south end of Roppongi around the elementary school there – hey! Are you even listening to me?"

"Y-yes! Intently!" stammered Serena, who had begun to stare into space, her brow furrowed as she tried to remember where in Roppongi she had been.

"Hmph," said Rei. "Well, anyway, the only stuff the police has busted them for is gang fights with other Roppongi gangs. Oh, and their leader is some young guy, a Fields or something – "

"Shields?" Serena blurted out.

"Yeah, that. Whatever. He seemed pretty tense about them, so if you're trying to, like, join them, or something, I would steer clear." She smirked. "Now this is the last thing I do for you, Bone Breaker, so don't ask again, okay?"

"Alright!" agreed Serena brightly. She bounced to her feet. "I've gotta go! Can you tell Coach I had to leave early, please? Thanks! Bye!"

She ran off, hardly limping.

"HEY!" Rei shouted after her. "I just said I WOULDN'T do you any more favors!"

Serena burst into the library and skidded to a stop in front of a free computer. The computer club, in a meeting at the other end of the room, whispered among themselves, but for once Serena didn't notice at all.

Rapidly she hunted and pecked to type 'Wolves, Roppongi,' into Google. Then, after a second's hesitation, she added, 'Shields' and pressed enter.

There weren't many relevant results. Three articles from the local newspaper, a Wikipedia article, and then a bunch of sites about some weird manga series featuring Barbie-proportioned girls who ran around in short skirts fighting youma. Serena had no idea what that had to do with gangs in Roppongi.

She read all the newspaper articles. Each one concerned gang activity in Roppongi within the past year.

The first article reported a bomb threat made on the Roppongi elementary school, Horibuchi Primary, by a north side Roppongi gang calling itself "Black Moon."

A link to another article was at the bottom of the page. "New Gang, Wolves, Respond to Black Moon Threat" was the second of the three articles that Google had yielded. This article, dated a week after the first, recounted police's discovery of a dozen Black Moon members beaten and tied-up in Horibuchi's playground. Several classrooms in the school had apparently begun to be vandalized. A note left at the scene and released to the press read, 'If the police won't protect the kids, the Wolves will.'

Only the last article actually mentioned Darien's name. It was a brief blurb, describing two police officers' breaking-up of a fight in Roppongi between three men only a few days before.

'The fight was thought to be linked to gang activity,' Serena read with widening eyes. 'Darien Shields, 19; Diamante Nemes, 23; and Safire Nemes, 21, were taken into custody early Sunday morning. Both of the Nemes brothers have been arrested for gang activity before, in addition to drug trafficking charges, while Shields was wearing a blue bandana, widely known as an identifying article of the Wolves, a Roppongi gang.'

Serena sat back. That explained the injuries he'd had on Sunday! But why had he fought at all? The article had said nothing about that.

Yet Serena could guess – 'the rose-tinted version, of course,' said her brain sourly. Buji was an elementary schooler; he probably attended Horibuchi. And if a gang had been threatening his little brother's school, of course Darien had taken actions to stop it! And what was wrong with that? Protecting your family was –

Something suddenly buzzed angrily against her. Serena jumped, knocking over her stool. Only as the entire computer club and the frowning librarian looked over at her did she realize that the buzz had been the vibration of her cell phone.

She hastily replaced the stool, logged off the computer, grabbed her bag, and hurried out the door. By then, her phone had stopped buzzing. She opened it as she ran onto the sidewalk. The screen blinked, "3 MISSED CALLS. CALLER: DAD CELL."

She had missed three calls? She must have been so engrossed in reading…

Biting her lip, Serena dialed her father's cell phone number.

He answered on the first ring. "Where are you?" he demanded.

"School," answered Serena quickly.

"It is five-thirty," his voice enunciated icily. "Practice should have ended half an hour ago. Why are you still at school?"

Serena chewed on her cheek, hard. Another lie. "I had to do partner research in the library. I forgot to tell you, I'm so sorry – "

"Home. NOW." He hung up.

Serena folded her phone and slipped it back into its holder. She was in so much trouble.

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"But – !" Serena stared at her parents in shock. She hadn't thought – she'd never thought that – "But that has nothing to do with me forgetting to call!"

"It has everything to do with it," said her father. "Visiting that girl was something you were looking forward to, and now that you've lost that privilege, maybe you'll think twice about being responsible."

'It was one time!' Serena's brain screeched. The pressure of the disbelief and betrayal and disappointment she felt squeezed tears from her eyes. She blinked angrily and scrubbed at them. Tears would do her no good.

She turned to her mother.

"Mom, please," she pleaded. "I'll do anything else, I'll do all the chores, I'll babysit Aunt Rumiko's kids, I'll do community service, I'll come straight home from the football games instead of going to the parties – "

Her mother laughed gently. "Darling, nonsense. It's important that you go to those parties for the team morale, not just for you." Serena chewed furiously on her cheek. "And you know, we always thought Mina wasn't the best influence on you. Without her father around and her mother dating that American – "

"Mom!" Serena cried, wide-eyed. Her eyes flicked to her father and found him nodding in agreement.

She felt like she was going to throw up.

"I – " She heard herself say. "I'm going to bed now."

And she did. She went to her bed and she lay in it, head smothered in her pillow, and felt even more like throwing up when she realized that she hadn't defended Mina to her parents.

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Her ebullience at the prospect of seeing Lita and Darien had dimmed. She felt uneasy, jinxed, as though she should not like them so much, because when she liked people, they somehow left her life, like Mina had.

Friday arrived crisp, sunny, and cold. Serena shivered deeper into her sweater even in the bright sun as she shuffled out to the field after the dismissal bell rang. Her fingertips were numb as she dialed her father's number on the cell phone.

Her parents had become even more strict about her calls to them after her failure to call them that day that she had researched Darien. Since then, they had required that she call them when she reached school, at lunch, immediately after school, and at the end of cheerleading practice.

Tonight, they expected her to call before the game started, after the routine at half-time, when the game ended, when she got to the park where the bonfire would be held, and when the bonfire ended.

She finished telling her father that she was at cheerleading practice and hung up. Then she began her normal decessorizing to change into her uniform. As she removed her locket, she remembered the speck of dirt on it that she had meant to rub off.

To her surprise, there were more little gray sports on the gold than before. Cradling it in her palm, she rubbed at the largest of the spots with her thumb. Even when the friction between her thumb and the metal created heat on her skin, the dirt wouldn't come off. She began to scratch at it with her thumbnail.

At which point golden flakes began to come off on her thumb.

Serena's fingers fell away. She stared at the locket.

Then she began to rub harder. And harder, until the whole locket was naked and gray, and on the floor all around her there were little flakes of gold like fairy dust.

"Serena! What IS all that crap?"

Serena jerked and stuffed the locket in her pocket. "I – I spilled something!"

Rei rolled her eyes. "Typical. Get ready, would you, Meatball Head?"

When Rei had hobbled back outside, Serena dug hastily into her backpack. Inside was a small kit of nail polishes. One was gold. With shaking fingers she unscrewed it and began to paint the naked locket. She couldn't let her parents find out that the locket on which they had spent so much money was fake.

She waited carefully for it to dry. Then she changed into her uniform and put the locket in her bag.

No sooner did she change into her uniform and emerge from the locker rooms than Seiko's familiarly heavy arm draped itself atop her shoulders like a python.

"Hey, baby," he said. "Save you a seat on the bus?"

That throw-up feeling roiled in Serena's stomach again. As the apex of the pyramid, she was usually kept back by Coach as the rest of the team boarded the bus in order to receive a few last-minute instructions. Which usually meant, unless someone was sick, that the bus seats were all full and Serena ended up sitting on Seiko's lap the whole way to the opposing school.

The football players thought it hilarious; the cheerleaders simmered with envy; and Coach thought that Serena preferred it that way, so sitting in Seiko's lap invariably became her fate on bus rides.

But the memory of the leering Roppongi man sleeping in the trash bags suddenly flashed into Serena's mind. She realized that he had said, 'Hey, babies' with the same leer and innuendo-laden tone as Seiko when he said, "Hey, baby."

Lita had flashed a knife at the homeless man for leering at her like that. What was different about Seiko? He had a flashy football uniform instead of rags and he smelled nicer than a hobo – sometimes? And yet she, Serena, was going to sit in his lap and let him run his hands up and down her waist – had let him, many times already?

Lita would be disgusted if she knew.

Shame and self-disgust filled Serena herself. She shrugged out from beneath Seiko's arm. "No."

"Huh?" Seiko held up a hand to her, gesturing at her to wait.

Her brow creased in incredulity; then she saw that he had his mp3 player ear buds dangling from his ears. Now that she saw it she could hear the too-loud music escaping from them, loud thumping rap. He pulled one blaring ear bud out.

Then he looked past her, paying her no attention at all. "Tanaka! Hey, man! Sweet party!"

'We didn't even get the chance to make a striking exit!' grumbled Serena's brain.

But Serena was glad. Despite feeling suddenly as strongly as she did that she never wanted to sit in Seiko's lap again, ever, she didn't want to ram headfirst into the argument right now if she could help it. There was a more peaceful way to solve the problem: she just had to get onto the bus before it filled up. Then she wouldn't have to sit on Seiko's lap, and he would get that it was over.

Hopefully.

Warm-ups and the squad's quick review of the routine were tense. This game would determine if the team advanced to district finals, and excitement crackled like a live wire beneath the girls' jumps, flips, and shouts.

Even Serena began to feel invigorated and lively, fueled by adrenaline from her decision to sit in her own seat on the bus and by the prospect of seeing Darien and Lita in only a few hours.

Coach had returned her to the top of the pyramid, and she climbed to the top flawlessly, balanced at the top flawlessly, and returned to the ground flawlessly, face stretched in a grin.

"Well done!" Coach clapped her hands once, twice. "Okay, everyone on the bus – " Serena edged to the fringe of the group, closer to the waiting bus. " – except Tsukino. I need to talk with you for a minute."

Serena's heart beat stuttered. "C-Coach!" Her voice sounded startled, as though shocked by her own audacity. "Can't – can't we talk when we get there?"

"Why, Serena, can't wait to sit with your boyfriend?" sneered Yuko, bumping past her as the rest of the squad headed to the bus.

"No, Tsukino, it can't wait," said Coach. She stepped toward Serena, propping her clipboard against her hip. "You know, I'm beginning to have doubts about your dedication to this squad. If you're only here to be close to your boyfriend, you're here for the wrong reason."

Serena's cheeks burned. "That is not the reason I'm on this team," she said stiltedly. "Please tell me what you were going to tell me before, Coach."

Coach narrowed her eyes. "I was going to say good job."

Serena felt a surge of guilt. Then Coach continued, "Watch your form. A careless fall like the last one that benched you could seriously screw up our chance at district competition."

The guilt disappeared. That fall had not been her fault, Serena knew that without doubt. Kim had been too busy talking to Rei about her date with her boyfriend to reach up and brace Serena's leg, which was her job in the pyramid formation.

Serena bit her tongue, however, and followed Coach to the bus.

Where Seiko sat, beside Tanaka, holding out his arms to her and lifting his brows suggestively.

Serena stopped stock-still on the bus steps. Her fingers clenched around the hand rail. Distantly she heard the bus doors hiss closed behind her.

"What's the problem, Tsukino?" demanded Coach from her seat behind the driver. "You're holding us up."

Serena licked her lips and looked at the empty spot next to Coach in her seat, where only her purse sat. "Coach, could you please move your purse?"

"Excuse me?" Coach lifted her brows above her sunglasses. "We have rules, Tsukino. I get a seat to myself. Go sit with Seiko like always."

"I won't sit in his lap!" burst from Serena's lips angrily. Flushing, she added, "Or anyone else's!"

But such a furor had spread through the bus that no one heard her second sentence.

The cheerleaders gasped and shrieked and giggled and whispered. The football players chuckled and rumbled.

Serena did not look at Seiko. She looked at Coach, despite all the heat that she felt burning beneath her cheeks.

Coach picked up her purse. "Sit down," she said in a voice so low that only Serena heard it.

Serena sat.

"Drive," said Coach tersely to the driver.

The ride to Minato seemed even worse to Serena than both of her sojourns alone into Roppongi put together. Behind her, she heard all the angry buzzing and the voices calling her "bitch" clearly audible, but she had to pretend that she didn't hear them.

She sat with her back ramrod straight and her face directly ahead as though she didn't care, not even looking at Coach.

But slowly, like liquid from an IV, her confidence dripped from her. Should she really have acted so openly? She should have sat in Seiko's lap this once and then told him later, when there was a chance to do it without half the school around…

But she had! She had tried to do that! He had been too wrapped up in his music and talking to Tanaka!

Serena's mind worried at the thoughts, plucking at them like her hands plucked at her pom-pom streamers. Should she have done this? Should she have not? Should she try to fix what she'd done?

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As events played out, the decision was made for her.

"Good job, Tsukino!"

"Yeah, thanks a lot!"

"Bitch!"

A gush of air rushed from Serena's lungs as yet another of her classmates shoved past her on her return to the bus. It seemed like the whole stadium, both their school's and the opponent school's spectators, knew how she had "rejected" Seiko on the bus.

"Gee, Tsukino, thanks for losing us the championship! Seiko played like crap because of you!"

'For anyone else, making three field goals in a game wouldn't have been crap,' said her brain angrily.

But the team had lost to Minato, and everyone was blaming their loss on the slightly-less-than-par performance by their quarterback due to his desolation at being dumped by Serena right before the game.

'Never mind that you weren't actually dating,' grumbled Serena's brain.

Buffeted like a fishing lure in stormy water among the crowd, Serena made it to the safety of the bus at last.

"Safety" may have been an inaccurate term, however, considering the iciness of the glares that she felt boring into her back.

She huddled into the front seat and pressed her cell phone to her ear.

"Hi, Dad," she whispered quietly in reply to his greeting. "No, we lost…"

"Oh! MAN!" She heard the sound of her dad snapping his fingers. "Dang it! Well, there's still the bonfire?"

"Yes, sir." Serena's heartbeat sped up in spite herself. Despite all this drama, Darien and Lita would be there…

'What happened to not getting too attached?' demanded her brain.

"…okay. Bye, Dad." Serena placed her phone back in its holder.

"Convenient how you forgot to tell him it was YOUR fault we lost." Kim draped herself over the seat two rows behind Serena, glaring.

Serena met her eyes only for a second, then turned to face forward. She stared resolutely at the WEAR YOUR SEATBELTS! poster at the front of the bus while the rest of the team trickled in.

The ride home was even longer than the one to the game, but Serena was the first one off the bus. She stepped off as slowly and nonchalantly as she could, but once she was out of reach of the streetlights, she began to run. The others would be riding together in everyone's cars to the park, and they would beat her there no matter how fast she ran, but she needed to run.

The bonfire at the park was already in full swing by the time she reached the park, panting and sweaty. She realized her disheveled, less-than-fragrant state only then and felt the panicked urge just to run home. Letting Darien see her in THIS state… but then she remembered that he had seen her looking mussed, sweaty, and soaked with beer, and still put his arms around her, so she calmed down and cheered up.

Of course, her brain had to put in its two cents' worth. 'Granted, that was to protect you from Creepy Mohawk Guy.'

But by then, Serena had entered the milling crowd, and it was too late to turn back. And, mostly, the memory of his arms and his laughter had made her eager to try for them again.

She found Lita almost immediately; she was the only shadowy form at tall as a boy that had a ponytail. When she saw her, Serena felt something release inside her, like a breath finally exhaled.

"Lita!" she said, throwing her arms around her. "You came!"

Serena was rather ashamed to hear her voice coming out sounding more like a sob than a jubilant greeting.

Apparently Lita noticed this resemblance as well, for she turned in Serena's arms and held her by the arms, then leaned down to peer at her.

"Are you okay?" she asked suspiciously, sniffing. "You don't smell like alcohol."

Serena grinned, genuinely. "No, I smell sweaty and gross!"

Lita shrugged, letting her go. "Can't argue with that."

Nervousness gripped Serena all over again. And again, apparently, Lita noticed, for she said, "I mean, you smell like a fresh summer rain."

Serena knew she was lying, but it made her feel better anyway.

And she felt even better when Lita said, "Anyway, you can't smell any worse than Darien. He's lurking somewhere around the fire in that leather jacket of his, he's got to be sweating buckets."

Serena found herself thinking that probably even Darien's sweat smelled good before her brain stopped her. 'For God's sake,' it said in disgust.

"Oh my gosh!" exclaimed Serena, suddenly realizing something. "Lita, my brain sounds just like you!"

Lita looked down at her. Then she sighed, shaking her head, and patted Serena's head between her buns. "You really are one weird little chick, Sere-girl."

Serena grinned happily.

Just then, a group of girls walked past her. The one on the edge slammed into her hard with her shoulder and muttered, "Slut!" They laughed raucously.

"What the hell?" Lita made a move forward.

"No, Lita-san!" Serena jumped between her and the retreating backs of the girls. "It's nothing!" She hoped that Lita hadn't heard – and if she had, that she wouldn't believe the girls – and everyone else – about her. Although it would fulfill her depressing prophecy about all her friends becoming not-friends…

"Skanks," said Lita. "That one's skirt is riding up in her thong anyway – what, she didn't think it was short enough already?"

Serena muffled laughter with her fist in her mouth. "I love you, Lita," popped out of her mouth when she could speak without giggling.

Lita's brows lifted, but she grinned in reply.

They found a half-empty picnic table, which quickly emptied the rest of the way when they sat down, and talked for a while.

When they reached a lull in the conversation, Serena craned her head and looked around.

"Where's Darien-san?" she wondered.

"Oh, him." Lita wrinkled her nose. "Probably around talking somewhere. He's good at fitting in with these preps – "

She cut off, glancing at Serena.

"No offense taken," Serena assured her, though she did feel a twinge. She was a prep, after all. Her clothes were the height of preppiness; her mother had made sure of that. What place did she have in Darien and Lita's world?

And yet – he got along with these preppy people, the ones among whom Serena had never been able to find her place? They were doubly incompatible, then…

"It's just because he used to BE one of them," continued Lita. "Before his parents died and he had to take care of himself and Buji on his own."

She had a strange tone as she said this and a measuring look in her eyes as she watched Serena.

"Oh," said Serena. He hadn't told her any of that. She'd never thought that in just a slightly different version of their lives, he could be an upperclassman at her school or even on the football team – although he seemed more like a soccer type to her.

There was a lot that she didn't know about him and Lita, she realized. Did she have the right to force her friendship into their world when she knew nothing about them?

"And you, Lita," she said suddenly. "What was your life like before you lived in Roppongi?"

Surprise chased the watchful expression from Lita's face. She stared at Serena for a moment before finally saying, "I've always lived in Roppongi. My dad was a druggie, and when he ran out of cash to buy crack, he wanted me to do shit I didn't wanna do. So he kicked me out. Then Dare saw me punching some guy's guts out on the streets and offered me a place with – "

She stopped, glancing at Serena with eyes slightly wider than usual, as though surprised by what she herself had said.

"The Wolves," finished Serena for her, earning an even wider stare. She shook her head in wonder. "You're even stronger than you look, Lita."

Lita stared at her some more. Then a corner of her lips quirked up. "Hey, is that a jab at my femininity?"

Serena grinned. "Lita, compare your chest size to mine," she said, pointing at her own woefully flat bust. "It would be hard for even Asanuma to doubt your feminity."

She stopped abruptly and clapped her hands. She had just remembered something. "Lita, do you have a boyfriend?"

"Serena, Darien is going to be disappointed if he realizes it was me you were interested in all this time – "

Serena blushed fiercely. "Lita! I just meant – that guy who came in last time, with the freckles! Is he your boyfriend?"

Now Lita was flushing in the dim light.

"Dammit, Serena, I haven't blushed in years." She dug a hand into her hair. "You've infected me with girl germs or something."

"About time someone did," said a voice from beside Serena.

She turned to see Darien sliding onto the bench next to her. In the meager orange wash of light from the bonfire, the scabbing cut from his eyebrow to his chin looked worse than it had the last time she saw it, enlarged by its own shadow.

But he was grinning at her, the gold flecks in his eyes also magnified by the firelight. "Good job, Serena, I've been trying to find out the truth about her and Motoki for weeks."

"Shields, I'm gonna kick your ass," Lita threatened.

Darien said nothing, just gave her a look from beneath his killer eyelashes.

"Urgh," said Lita, standing up. "Fine. But I'll be back."

She walked off, toward the other side of the fire.

"Why's she leaving?" asked Serena, confused. The only other things to do at the bonfire than talk were dance and drink. Lita had stated that she hated alcohol, and Serena couldn't imagine her dancing with any of her classmates here.

"It's something we arranged beforehand," said Darien, hooking his grin at her. "She got to have some time with you. Now it's my turn."

"Well…um…we could have had time together with all of us…?" said Serena carefully, not sure if she was being stupid. Had she missed something?

Darien just lifted his eyebrows at her, smiling.

Quickly she changed the subject.

"What's this?" she said, touching the silver chain at his neck and the circular pendant that hung from it.

He lifted it from her fingers, sending warmth up her at the contact. "It's a locket, see."

Serena flinched. When her parents found out that the locket that they had bought her was a fake…

Darien appeared not to notice. He popped open his locket with his fingernail, looking suddenly rather grim. Only one side of the locket held a picture, that of an apple-cheeked, dark-haired infant.

"That's Buji. My parents gave it to me when he was born. So that I would remember it was my job to protect him."

"Oh," said Serena softly. Again she was overwhelmed by that yearning to have her own younger sibling.

"And this," said Darien. His grim expression had become something softer, a small smile.

He was touching her collarbone; her breath caught – oh, no he wasn't, he was lifting her own necklace to look at it. "What's the story behind yours?"

Serena arched her neck so that she could look down at the locket on her neck without her chin touching his hand. Such physical contact would be much too presumptuous…and make her blush in a very embarrassing way.

"My parents gave it to me, too," she said quietly. "Not for any reason, though. Just because…"

Because they wanted to show off how expensive a gift they could afford to buy for me, she realized as she remembered the first thing they had said when they had given it to her. 'Don't lose it. It was very expensive. If you damage it we'll be very disappointed.'

And she spotted, as a finger of firelight reached out to touch her locket in Darien's fingers, that the nail polish had worn away on the bottom to reveal gray again.

"You okay?" Darien put down the locket. "You look like you've just had an epiphany." He eyed her some more. "An unpleasant one."

Serena shook her head, then admitted, "Just a bit. But what's the point in spoiling the one night in a week I get to talk to you? Tell me about Buji – "

"The point is making you feel better," Darien interrupted. "You were the one so adamant on becoming friends. One of the responsibilities of a friend is that they help you feel better."

Serena shook her head violently. "I didn't want to become friends with you just so I could dump my problems on you," she said stubbornly. "Please just talk to me. Tell me about your life. Like…"

She reached up tentatively and ran her finger lightly down the scar shadowing his face. "…has there been any more trouble with the Black Moon?"

Somehow they had gotten so close to each other that Serena felt his heart skip a beat.

Slowly, his eyes closed.

"You know about that?" His murmur was just loud enough for her to hear.

Serena bit her lip. She lowered her hand to her side. "Yes. I looked you up. I'm sorry – "

"Then why are you still here?" His eyelids flew open, his gaze shooting out at her like blue bullets. "It's one thing to waltz into Roppongi alone and quite another to play friends with someone you know belongs to a gang!"

"And it's one thing to run around terrorizing innocent people and quite another to protect your family!" retorted Serena.

She was suddenly breathing very fast; she found herself glaring at him rather than flinching away from his obvious anger. "That's hardly even gang activity! And if it was, what difference would it make? Does your gang have RULES against becoming FRIENDS?"

"No!" Darien's fist slammed into the picnic table. "But your people do!"

"My people?" Serena repeated in confusion, her blonde brows knitting.

"What kind of car does your dad drive, Serena? How many bedrooms are in your house? How many of those pieces of gold jewelry do you have?"

He shot the spate of questions at her too fast to possibly expect her to answer. But he glared into her eyes the entire time, as though demanding something from her. "Our levels are so far apart we're practically not on the same planet!"

And there it was again.

Rejection.

She didn't belong in his world. She had known it all along, why had she deluded herself…

Her brain moved her legs without her awareness; the next thing she knew she was scrambling from the bench and walking away as quickly as her legs could take her. She heard some noise behind her, maybe someone calling her name, but she kept going, burrowing through the crowds of drinking dancing teenagers, and it was a gut-wringing rerun of last Friday night. She was running. Again.

As she made her hurried beeline toward the park's exit, little did she know that someone else was making a beeline for her.

"Check it out, he's sloshed!"

"Bet you ten bucks he hurls in the next five minutes!"

"Dude, Seiko, are you even conscious?"

"RRRARGH!"

With a slurred roar, Seiko threw his solid body into Serena's path. His collision with her sent them both to the ground.

Serena scrambled hastily back to her feet, untangling her limbs from Seiko's, blinking back the hot water in her eyes to hide them from the audience that was congealing around them like blood around a wound.

Seiko, on his butt in the grass, twisted around, planting his hands in the grass, and retched.

And retched and retched and retched.

Serena watched with a disbelieving horror. Guilt nailed her feet into place as the chunky splashes filled the spectators' rapt silence.

Seiko had gotten this drunk because of what she had done to him.

"He's still going!" went the half impressed, half disgusted commentary through the crowd. The crush of classmates around them thinned slightly as people lost interest.

At last Seiko's heaving stopped. He turned back around, swiping a sleeve across his mouth. Even in the dim light from the bonfire, his eyes were visibly bloodshot as he stared at Serena.

"What the hell, 'Rena?" he groaned, still slurring. "You effed everything up."

A ripple of agreement travelled through the spectators.

Serena stared wide-eyed at him and felt her tongue trying to burrow down her throat to hide. She heard herself gag.

"I'm…willing…to give you…another chance," hiccoughed Seiko, swaying to his feet in several broken movements. He lurched forward. "I'll even…let that bastard…you were talking to…leave…without…kicking his ass."

Terror filled Serena. Like steam in a pressure cooker, more, more, more, more – until there was no more room in her for it. It had to go somewhere else. Become something else.

And at Seiko's threat, she reached her bursting point. The terror hissed into fury.

"As if you could!" she spat.

Around them, the whispers became a jeering, "Ooooh!"

Seiko's face twisted.

Stars exploded on the right side of her face. Then pain.

Dazedly, Serena realized that Seiko had just hit her.

"Listen, you whore," he panted. His hands gripped her by her hair, her toes brushing the ground, her face close to his, so close that she was choking on his vomity breath. "You're MY girlfriend."

Tears were springing to her eyes at the pain of her hair slowly tearing from her scalp. She gasped in harsh, short breaths like sobs. In the background, she heard dimly a voice that sounded like Rei's screaming, "Stop! Put her down!"

Seiko yanked her higher. Her back arched in pain as the agony from her scalp lanced down her spine.

When Seiko was suddenly still she didn't notice it. She felt only the ripping pain. Water was smearing her vision and his grip squeezed her eyelids half-shut. She could only see the underside of Seiko's chin and part of his neck.

But that was where the silver knife blade appeared.

It glinted at her through the blear of tears as though winking in reassurance.

"You're going to put her down. Slowly." A bright red line seeped out on Seiko's neck just above the glinting blade.

Then the line disappeared as Seiko's fingers uncurled from her hair and she dropped bonelessly to the ground.

A pair of hands caught her under the arms before her kneecaps could crunch into the dirt.

"I said slowly!" snarled Darien's voice above and in front of her.

She heard the slap-thunk sound of fist meeting flesh, then a whole succession of them, quickly drowned out by sudden hoots and shouts from the crowd.

"Up we go," grunted Lita's voice in her ear, shaking almost as much as Serena was. She felt herself being lifted. "Mother-effing bastard – "

Awareness returned to Serena in slow patches, like vision returning after the momentary blindness caused by a bright light.

"Lita," she managed, "Lita, you've gotta stop them."

"Stop Dare from whipping that bastard's fucking ass? No goddamn way."

Just then, the wail of sirens pierced the sounds of jeering and fighting. The cheering shattered like glass into shrieks and cussing voices as the crowd of teens scattered.

Within a minute, only Serena and Lita, Darien and Seiko, were left. Seiko was on the ground on his side, blood gushing from his nose and his eyes half-shut.

Rei, Serena realized, was also still there, sitting on a picnic table bench with her cast-encased leg stretched out in front of her and her crutch propped beside her.

"Leave him," she said as Serena's eyes landed on her. Her voice was pure acid. "If he tries to tell them who messed up his face, I'll tell my dad what he did to you. He won't say anything." She shoved the bottom of her crutch into his ribs. "Will you, vomit-face?"

He moaned.

"Shut up," snapped Rei. "He gave you a punch in the face. You want me to give you more?"

"Rei-chan," said Serena uncertainly.

"Get out of here," said Rei sharply. "You wanna get caught?"

"But – "

"I won't kill him, don't worry."

"That's not what – "

"I'll be fine. I won't get charged with anything. My breath's clean, I'm handicapped, and my dad's a sergeant. Can you say the same?"

"C'mon!" Before Serena knew it, Lita had her slung over her shoulder, like a baby being burped, and they were crashing away through the dark trees.

After only a few dozen meters they reached a shadowed corner of parking lot where the two motorcycles that Serena had seen before were parked.

Lita threw Serena onto one and climbed on in front of her. A helmet was shoved into Serena's lap from the side; she looked up to see Darien mounting the other motorcycle and revving it. Serena hastily jammed on the helmet and grabbed Lita's waist.

As soon as her fingers locked together, the motorcycle roared beneath them. The front wheel took to the air for a moment before slamming back onto the asphalt and tearing into the street.

Serena floated in and out of awareness, her helmeted head against Lita's trembling back and fatigue washing in and out over her like a tide, but she was pretty sure that they stopped too early to have reached Roppongi. She lifted her head and saw that Darien had pulled over in front of the deserted, tree-filled grounds of a shrine, and Lita was pulling in after him.

"Shit!" Lita tore off her helmet. "Effing bastards! The FUCK you didn't bash him up for – "

"Lita!" Darien's voice was sharp. "Walk it off."

Still snarling a blistering string of sewage, Lita yanked her leg from over the bike. She stalked into the trees, her fists clenching and unclenching viciously.

"She's fine," said Darien tightly at the expression on Serena's face.

He didn't seem so fine himself. But that could have had something to do with the huge gush of blood coursing down his forehead from over one eye, which he had squeezed shut.

"She just has some anger management issues." He glanced in the direction Lita had gone before returning his gaze to her.

"Okay." Serena's voice was barely an exhalation. She couldn't tear her eyes from his face. One side was bisected by a massive scar, the other masked in blood.

"You alright?" he asked, looking at her through his one open eye. He turned his face to the side, away from her, and it was obvious even to her that he had done it to save her from having to look at its gory condition.

Guilt filled her.

"I am, but you're not." She reached deliberately out to touch the cut above his eye.

He pulled away from her.

"It's fine," he said. "Don't touch it. You'll get blood on your hands."

Serena's lip trembled. She look down at the motorcycle handlebars, then remembered her backpack. She swung it around into her lap. From the back compartment, she pulled out a package of antibacterial wipes and the second-largest bandage from her bandage selection, a square slightly smaller than her palm.

"What are you?" said Darien's voice. "Nurse Joy?"

She looked up to see him leaning toward her on his bike, his open eye wide as it took in the assortment of first-aid supplies in her bag.

"You're not the only one who gets into fights," said Serena, managing to keep her voice steady and casual. As though he hadn't just gotten beaten up for her at a party to which she had invited him.

While he was distracted by her bag, she snatched the opportunity to dart her hand up and swipe the source of blood above his eye. There was an imprint of letters on the skin there; Seiko must have punched Darien with his left hand, splitting the skin with his ornate MVP ring.

"I just fight against sidewalks and gravity instead of people," she concluded.

Darien smiled unenthusiastically at her. Then he caught the wrist of her hand that was wiping his forehead.

"I can do this," he said, motioning at his bloodied face with his free hand.

Serena's stomach quivered like jelly at the physical contact. Involuntarily her eyes flicked up to his fingers around her wrist.

His eyes followed hers; he quickly unlocked his fingers, dropping his hand. Serena's shoulders slumped the tiniest bit.

She dropped her eyes to her lap but did not lower her hand from his forehead.

"You've saved my life twice." Her voice nearly cracked on the last word.

"Let me do something – " Her voice did crack this time. " – let me feel like there's something I can actually do! God!"

Her last word was an angry cry, and she scrubbed the humiliating tears from her face, furious with herself. She knew that she would never be tough enough, never capable enough, to belong in his world! But could she at least not show him how utterly pathetic she was?

At least he released her hand. She wiped at the rest of his face without looking at him, until he was blood-free. The night air was very cold against the wet trails on her cheeks. He was very quiet and very still, as though she was treating a statue.

With one hand holding his bangs away from the cut made by Seiko's ring and holding the bandage in the other hand, she tore away the bandage's packaging with her teeth. She placed the bandage meticulously over the cut, smoothing it against the inflamed skin.

"There," she said. Unwilling, but feeling obligated by courtesy, she glanced down to meet his eyes.

But his eyes were down; he was staring at his hands in his lap.

"I hate," he said, his voice slow and deliberate, "that people have the power to make another person feel like they're not a human being."

Serena stared at him. She was frozen, pinned in place as effectively as if he had taken a nail and hammered it through her heart. She might have made a noise of pain, of disbelief, of agreement, she didn't know.

"You…" His voice was quiet, then abruptly gained volume. "You weren't even fighting back!"

His head flew up, and he glared at her, the golden flecks in his eyes flaring like sparks.

"Did you think you DESERVED that?" he nearly shouted. "Why the hell didn't you fight back?"

She didn't answer – couldn't.

He stared at her, breathing hard.

"I don't understand you," he said at last. His voice was low, harsh. "You wander around Roppongi alone, you befriend a gang member, you – you flirt with a gang LEADER! But you don't stand up to a puffed-up daddy's boy who was so drunk he couldn't even stand up straight!"

Flirt.

She stared at him, her face bleaching of color.

"You knew?" she heard herself whisper. He had noticed, then, her pathetic fixation in him, her idiotic near-obsession –

"Oh, NOW you're scared?" He laughed.

The sound rang like metal. It held no amusement, instead an almost violent irritation. It stabbed confusion even further into her, shame infecting the wound.

Her voice was as quiet as the rustle of bed sheets. "Then why did you bother fighting him?"

"Why?" He laughed metallically again. This time she got the impression that he was laughing not at her but at himself. "Because I wanted you to be my girlfriend."

. ..

'Oh. My. God.'

Serena was inclined to agree with her brain.

In an ideal world, Darien would have waited for her response. This would have given her the time to gape at him and replay in her head fifty times what he had just said in order to confirm that yes, that WAS what he had just said.

But he tore his eyes away from her quickly and shoved his helmet back onto his head.

"Get on." He shifted on his motorcycle, freeing a space for her to sit behind him. "Lita's gonna be awhile. I'll take you home."

When a minute passed without her moving, his shoulders hunched more tensely beneath his leather jacket.

"Look." He spoke without turning around. "I'm not gonna try anything, okay?"

At last Serena regained enough control over her body to lick her bone-dry lips. It was mortifyingly obvious from the stretched sound of her voice that her throat was as tight as if she was going into anaphylactic shock.

"C-c-can you s-say that a-ag-gain?"

His knuckles tightened to white knobs around the handlebars. "I said, I'm not going to do anything to you."

"No – " She shook her head violently, making the helmet shake around her ears. "Before that."

Darien's back went even stiffer. She saw the outline of his spine straining against the heavy leather of his jacket.

"Come on," he said; his voice was stretched as hers; it cracked. "You're not gonna make me say that cheesy line?"

Now it was Serena's turn for her voice to crack. "Please."

He turned around. Slowly he pulled up the visor of his helmet. The golden flecks in his midnight eyes burned out at her.

"Be my girlfriend."

There was a black hole in Serena's stomach. It sucked all the air from her lungs; she felt as though her chest was about to cave in. She sucked in a long, trembling breath, staring up at him.

Then she nodded. Once, twice, in jerky movements. It was the least romantic motion that could possibly have existed.

But his response wasn't extremely romantic either. He yanked off his helmet and stared at her, his hair sticking up.

Disbelief stained his voice. "Yes?"

She felt like the little mermaid who had lost her voice. She forced herself to find it and managed to croak, "Y-yes! I mean – if you – if you want me to – "

"Yes, I want you to!"

He was climbing off his bike and laughing. This time it was a real laugh. His arms came around her hard. Not hard enough to hurt her but hard enough to assure her of his sincerity.

"God, Serena, I've said it twice, how many more times do I have to say it to get it through your dumpling head?"

"Again," said Serena stubbornly through the helmet, feeling like a child demanding more and enjoying the feeling. She put her head, helmet and all, tentatively against his chest.

In that position she felt his laughter before she heard it. "Yes, I want you to," he said. "I want you."

Her insides positively puckered. Her fingers curled in his jacket. Only the wave of night air rushing in to pat her face with cold fingers when he pulled the helmet from her head returned her to awareness.

"Why?" she asked against his jacket. Her nose was a centimeter from the bump made by the silver locket below his thin white shirt.

"You're asking me?" The lightest tint of bitterness colored his voice, his fingers combing through her hair did not retreat. "I think the real question is why me."

"Oh, if you want to know that we'll be here all night," said Serena happily, playing with his locket. Then she realized what she had said and squeaked, turning her face into his jacket to hide the radioactive flush that suffused her cheeks.

"What – ah." He pulled away for just a second, then pulled her close to him again. This time she heard his chuckle in his chest and his grin against her hair.

'He felt us blushing,' explained her brain, doing a tomato impression of its own.

"I don't understand you," Darien informed the top of her head. But he lowered his head further to nuzzle her hair.

Serena's eyes flew wide, a shiver racing down her body. When it faded, she tilted her head back to look up at him. A wide and silly but irrepressible grin was covering her face. And he…

'He's leaning – he's leaning!' shrieked her brain.

His eyelashes brushed hers; hers eyelids shuddered shut –

"I should take you home," he breathed into her ear.

Serena slumped despite the exquisite sensation sparkling from her ear to her core. She had been so sure that he was going to –

"This is your chance to argue."

Serena looked up at him in hope – then looked away. Her parents would definitely be expecting her. Especially if they somehow heard that the bonfire party had been broken up by police…

"I should go." She looked up at him, trying to make sure with her expression and her eyes that he understood it was not because she wanted to leave. "My parents will worry."

He shook his head, spikes of hair flopping over to the other side of his face. "Of course."

There was a sudden tightness in his expression that had not been there before. She wanted to make it go away.

"I don't want to go," she offered.

He refocused his eyes on her and smiled. But the expression was less like the sun emerging from behind the clouds and more like dirt being swept beneath the rug.

"Of course you don't," he said, still smiling. "Who would want to leave my intoxicating presence?"

"I don't drink," Serena informed him as a retort.

Darien snickered suddenly. "That's a good thing, considering how hard it is for you to walk when you're sober."

Serena crossed her arms and sniffed. "You know, if you're going to be that way, I can take back what I said."

Darien's grin widened. Then it vanished suddenly, morphing into apprehension, a strange expression on his scarred face. "Does it bother you?"

Automatically Serena's hand was lifting to rest against his jaw.

"No," she said in surprise, and then, a little scandalized by her own boldness, she pulled her hand back.

He caught it, staring into her with his night-sky eyes again. "You were teasing."

"Ye-es," Serena said with a little hesitation. "Is that okay?"

"Yes," he said. "But only if I can do it to you."

"Okay."

"Okay."

He was still holding her hand. She was still looking at him.

Then her cell phone buzzed at her waist.

She flinched, yanking automatically away from Darien. Acutely aware of his watching eyes, she fumbled the phone from its holders and opened it. "Yes, Daddy?"

"Are you alright? Where are you?"

Serena winced. She had totally forgotten the time; of course her parents would have been expecting a call.

"I'm fine. A friend's bringing me home." She winced again as she said 'friend,' studiously looking at the pleat of her skirt instead of Darien.

"Who? How far away are you? I'll come get you."

"No, we're almost home! We just stopped for – for milk!"

"We who?"

Serena bit her lip. She had tried so hard to avoid the question. "Darien. He's in a grade above me. He's um – " She winced again. " – a friend of Seiko's."

"Where is Seiko? Why isn't he bringing you home?"

"Um, Dad, I can't hear you! The reception's really bad! I'll be home in a few minutes, okay? Bye!"

She snapped the phone shut and fidgeted, sneaking a peek up at Darien.

He swung his leg over the motorcycle and motioned her on behind him.

His voice was neutral as he handed her the helmet. "Friend of Seiko's, huh? This Seiko wouldn't happen to be the one whose nose I broke, by any chance?"

"I'm sorry!" Serena burst out. "It's just, my parents, they're really – well, they love Seiko, and they're really protective – "

"I'm not criticizing them," he said quickly.

Serena subsided, untensing slightly against his back as the motorcycle pulled out into the street. "I know. It's just – I don't want you to think – I mean, they might not – um – "

"Approve of me?" She felt his voice from where the side of her face was against his back rather than heard it over the rush of the wind.

She pressed her face closer against the warm leather, closing her eyes. "Yes."

"I figured they wouldn't."

They were pulling into her neighborhood, and his voice was odd again, stretched by a tension underneath.

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

Her arms tightened around his waist, as though he would disappear, the way Mina had. "Yes!" Why would he ask? "Don't…don't you?"

"Yes!" The exclamation point at the end of his response echoed hers. She smiled happily, pushing her forehead into the spot between his shoulder blades. A laugh escaped him, and she felt that, too.

She told him so. "I can feel you laughing."

He laughed again, and then they were coasting to a stop in front of her house. The lights were all on, and when she looked up from his beautiful black hair she saw a silhouette passing in front of one of the first floor windows. Apprehension chased the delirium from her veins.

Hastily she climbed off the motorcycle, straightening her clothes and then her helmet, although her hands encountered the helmet instead. Darien laughed quietly again as he took it off for her. She dared not grab his hand lest her parents see, but she grabbed his eyes with her own.

"I shouldn't stay," he said, reading her gaze.

Serena bit down on her lip. "When will I see you again?"

He looked at her, then flicked a glance over her shoulder. Quickly but with no seeming sense of haste he put the helmet over his own head, casually concealing his face behind the black visor.

"Do you trust me?"

She stared at him.

'Did he really just say that?' demanded her brain.

Serena frowned, continuing to stare at him as she reached down to pinch her arm.

Darien laughed again as she yelped.

"Are you real?" she demanded of him.

Distractedly she realized that this was the same question that he had asked of her a week ago. The realization made her warm inside, and she clasped her hands together behind her back. Then she answered his question without waiting for an answer to hers: "Yes."

"Good," he said. The sudden roughness of his voice made her think that he too had felt the déjà vu from the question that she had asked him. "Then I'll find you."

"Serena?"

Serena spun. Behind her, she heard the motorcycle rev and zoom off down the street. "Daddy!"

"Who was that?"

"I told you. Darien." Serena winced internally. "He's a little older than us, but I know him, and he offered to bring me home."

Her father frowned at her. "You know how I feel about motorcycles, Serena. You should have called me."

'And risked Seiko seeing you and telling you about Darien?' said her brain. 'I don't think so.'

"Yes, Daddy," she said.

His frown lessened somewhat, and he stepped closer to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders that was somehow just as heavy as Seiko's. "You look tired. It must have been rough, having to act happy with everyone after the team lost so badly."

Serena had to bite down hard on her cheek from breaking into a huge smile; she could still see Darien staring at her – 'Do you trust me?' She shivered.

"Uh-oh. I hope you're not getting a cold, young lady!" Her father released her and pushed her toward the stairs. "Off to bed with you! Next weekend is another game!"

Serena was only too pleased to obey; she ran up the stairs and into her room, racing into her pajamas. And once she was done, she half-dove under her covers, huddling there in a trembling ball and hugging her pillow close to her as she buried her face in it.

She was Darien's girlfriend. Darien liked her. Maybe even loved her! She muffled a squeak of rapture into her pillow. He liked her he liked her he liked her – she remembered the feel of his breath in her ear and broke out in goosebumps all over again, hugging the pillow tighter. And the way his voice had sounded after she asked him if he was real…

Serena shivered some more.

L

A/N: Like before, PLEASE review. Too melodramatic? Does the relationship seem realistic? This is a more physical romance than any I've really written before. I don't want it to seem totally appearance-based and shallow…?