Author's note: Thanks for the reviews again! I made a terrible mistake in the summary; I've rectified it. Yuri is 17 and yes, she goes to school, not college! Sorry again!

Disclaimer: The usual...

Chapter 3

Abruptly, Yuri felt something pulling her shoulders. She yelped in surprise as she was thrown against the hard back of the wardrobe. Seething with rage, she lunged at him again, only to be pushed back by Dad. Sean seemed equally determined to end the brawl, but was refrained expertly by, yes you guessed it, dear old Dad.

"THAT'S ENOUGH, YOU TWO! Acting like a bunch of kids! I don't expect to put up with this sort of childish behaviour – especially not from you, Sean – you're twenty, behave like an adult for God's sake! And you, Yuri – you're a girl! Heaven forbid – you shouldn't pick a fight with a grown-up man!"

"He started it!" she retorted back.

"Kick her out!"

"Shut up!" They fell silent immediately, because it was one tone of Dad's that meant that he was going to explode at any moment and was not likely to forgive them in another, say, two months.

He gave them both red-hot glares until they lowered their eyes, even Yuri. She wasn't afraid of squaring up, but this was Dad – a different case altogether.

"Yuri, you have school tomorrow. So go to sleep. Sean – " he hesitated for a moment, before finally saying, " – no more fighting."

"Yes, Sir," they said numbly, and the closet door slid shut.

After a few seconds, Sean spoke up, "Ya know, I'm sorry for what I did. You're a girl – I shouldn't be beatin' you up."

His humble tone made her blush. "I'm sorry too. I must have been behaving like an idiot."

"And sorry for hintin' that you're a deformity too."

"It's no big deal."

"Truce? 'Cause we're definitely goin' ta need it if we're goin' to share a room."

"Funny, you're twenty, aren't you? Isn't it about time you moved out?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "Rent ain't cheap out there, ya know."

"So it must be true then. Nothing's cheap in the Big Mikan."

"You can say that again."

She yawned, exhaustion finally taking its toll on her eyelids. "Wake me up at six, will you?"

"Heck, that's the alarm clock's job."

"Screw you."

"Yeah, g'night to you too."

The lights went out.

Yuri didn't need the alarm clock to tell her that six o'clock in the morning had arrived. She had been so used to getting up at that time that her eyelids automatically flew open just before the alarm clock rang shrilly on the floor right next to her. She shut it off and got to her feet. The sun was three-quarter way through full rise. She went to the tiny bathroom (she vaguely remembered it being next to the kitchen) and washed herself and took a quick bath of icy cold water.

Her teeth was still chattering when she found her father sipping tea nonchalantly at the table.

"Good morning, Yuri."

"G'morning, Dad."

"There's still some tea left."

"Not yesterday's I hope?"

He laughed. "Seventeen years in Japan and still no idea on how to boil tea?"

"I thought so," she said as she accepted a steaming cup of tea. "Arigato… Mmm, chrysanthemum."

"Your mother's favourite," he said with a smile, which grew a little fixed in a few moments. "Tell me honestly, Yuri. How is she?"

Her good mood dissipated as quickly as the steam melted into the air. She took a small sip and placed the cup on the table. She couldn't bring herself to tell him the truth.

"Yuri?"

She took a deep breath and gave him a smile. "I think I'm running late. Where's my uniform?"

"I hung it up on the shelf for you when you were in the bathroom."

"Is it – "

"No. My apologies."

"Never mind. Where do you keep the iron?"

Shibuya High School did not differ much from the high school back home in Hokkaido, except for the pace. Like everyone else in Tokyo, the students kept their eyes fixed on the floor, moved and talked in gangs, and eyed the new student. Yuri had always identified herself as Japanese; identity crisis had never popped into her head before. But now… as she grew more and more conscious of gawks and stares around her, she wondered if she was going to ever make any friends. Not that back home she had any proper girlfriends – they were just girls who thought they looked cool hanging around her.

But that was Hokkaido. This is Tokyo. Where she had yet to make a mark.

Her day only truly begun the moment the bell rang, and she stepped past the school gates feeling a bit stuffed. Too much lunch, probably. She stopped in her tracks at once when she saw the monster parked in front of her.

A man, Asian by the looks of it, was sitting on its hood, his fingers dipping in and out of a chips packet, as if he was on a baby's day out. He stopped eating when he saw her, and his face broke into a smile. "Had a good day?"

She itched to smile back as well, but made a respectable effort to look serious. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, this?" he stood and pointed at the muscular beauty, then glanced at her, grinned and resumed his original position. "Hope you don't mind."

"I'm not used to strangers sitting on my car without my permission."

His grin grew wider and he held out a hand. "Ming."

"Ming," she repeated warily. "I was expecting someone else."

"He just went down the block for a Pepsi," said a voice, and she turned, and her smile was for real. "You idiot," she muttered.

Another man, this time one that she knew, was coming up the street towards her. He shrugged. "You look cute in this uniform."

"Who's looking after the garage then?"

He shrugged again. "I dunno… somebody?"

"You trust Miki?"

"Shou ga nai… Not a day late, you said."

She laughed and hugged him. "Thank you, Koji – thank you, thank you! Now I can sleep in peace."

He hugged her back and released her. "Beautiful Supra – beautiful owner. How can I possibly resist?"

She pointed at Ming. "Who's he supposed to be?"

The smile disappeared from Koji's face. "You know my contact in Tokyo? The one who's doing business with Imiga's cousin?"

Yuri suddenly felt something plummeting in her stomach, like a bad omen. "He died," said Ming abruptly from behind her. She turned to face him. He had gotten to his feet and he was no longer grinning either. "In a car crash." He crumpled the packet. "He was my brother. And he was murdered."