A/N: You know, guys... We're not even halfway through yet. Not. Even. Half.

Oh, and if you somehow missed the Interlude chapter, please go back and read it! There's going to be about five in total and they'll be thrown in here and there. They're important for PLOT-related reasons, so don't skip them, please~! :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Hikaru no Go.

Pairings: Ditto last chapter.

Warnings: You know...the usual...


Chapter 7

Rotary Cutter


"Maybe he shouldn't come around so much."

Tsutsui didn't understand why he was shocked by this tentative suggestion. It was expected, sooner rather than later, and it had been nagging at the back of his mind for the past week. Even the source - a fidgeting Fujisaki Akari - wasn't a surprise; she would have volunteered herself for the task of talking to him, as she was the only one kind enough to take Tsutsui's feelings on the matter into consideration. The others wouldn't have bothered with feigning even the slightest modicum of deference.

It was just shy of two weeks since Shindou Hikaru had first stepped into the Go club. The tension between the abrasive first year and the rest of the club had only heightened during that time, especially as Shindou had made it a habit to ignore their conspicuously hostile behavior. The blond-banged boy had a certain look to his eyes that gave off the feeling of dismissal, as if he had weighed the worth of every person under his gaze and found them wanting. The only time those green eyes softened was when Tsutsui was seated across the goban from him, turning the glints of shuddered emerald from aloof to passionate. Tsutsui liked the younger boy best in those moments, being the first to ever listen to his advice and show any kind of appreciation for the game outside of merely defeating his opponents.

Attending the club while Shindou wasn't present was becoming tedious. Asakano spent far too much time devoted to following the gossip surrounding the Meijin, entranced more by the man's looks than his games. Hoshizuki seemed to believe that as long as he could hold his position as second board for Haze meant he need not improve, while Fujisaki simply wasn't improving enough. As of late and to Tsutsui's growing ire, the younger girl had been focusing more on keeping the group dynamic at the status quo in the wake of Shindou's appearance. She spent more time appeasing the other club members rather than refocusing their attention on the actual point of the club, which was the reason for her suggestion of limiting contact with Shindou in the first place. Tsutsui had spent the last two weeks rebuffing the other members' complaints with pointed comments about improving their games if they really want to 'put Shindou in his place'.

Not that Tsutsui actually believed that to be a possibility. Perhaps he had, in those first few days when Shindou played against him. But with every passing day, Shindou improved: meticulously-planned fuseki, steadier joseki, vicious hands peppered throughout yose. They hadn't been been far apart in level on that first day, but now Tsutsui had lost the last two games and the blond-banged boy was slowly gaining momentum. If it had been possible, Tsutsui would trade in the rest of the club just for Shindou.

"Fujisaki," Tsutsui began with a sigh, pushing his glasses up. "You're lucky to have such a pretty face."

Now she looked offended. Good, Tsutsui thought without any real resentment. Hopefully the next time she presented herself as the club's mouthpiece, she wouldn't bother putting up the pretense of being humble about it. Subtle suggestions only work if you're actually subtle about it.

Fujisaki seemingly bit down on a reflexive reprimand. God knows Tsutsui had seen her lecture enough of her classmates over various slights. Fujisaki was as straight-laced as you could get, unerringly obedient to her teachers and friendly with her classmates. She got along with just about everyone and was always eager to lend a helping hand. She was a good person, Tsutsui knew that - but sometimes she was just too quick to put the group at ease and neglected to even try and understand people as individuals, preferring to sacrifice the minority for the majority's comfort. In her mind, Shindou Hikaru was making most of the club members unhappy, thus he should be rejected from further contact. Sometimes Tsutsui just wanted to shake her and point out that age-old quote that it may not be what the club wants, but what they need.

"I already talked to Shimura-sensei and he agrees," Fujisaki stated with as much professional courtesy she could muster. Tsutsui did not care for her tone but didn't pause to correct it. He stood in one fluid motion, moving around the desk he had been seated in. His abrupt action quieted the rest of the club as they turned to him in vague interest, but Tsutsui ignored them (and Fujisaki's startled platitudes) as he strode out the door.

Shimura was the third year history teacher, the only one open to being the official counselor of the Haze Go club. He had a limited experience with the game, having gotten only as far as being an insei before withdrawing. Tsutsui had had to beg the staff for a week until he'd finally given in to his pleas. The Go club had been started by Tsutsui in his first year; he'd poured his sweat and blood into cultivating it, slowly drawing in member after member until he'd gained enough to enter tournaments. They were hardly the best, barely skirting the line of mediocrity as it was, but just the fact that he'd managed to start a club at all had been enough.

And now, now that they'd finally found someone as talented as Shindou Hikaru was proving to be - they were going to isolate him?

The staff room was mostly populated when Tsutsui entered. At this time in the day, teachers were grading assignments, checking over rosters, putting on the finishing touches to future lesson plans. He wasn't the only student present either, as it looked like one of the second years was being lectured by his homeroom teacher. Tsutsui had eyes only for Shimura, approaching the man's desk without hesitation. His own homeroom teacher looked surprised at his entrance but went ignored by the bespectacled boy.

"With all due respect, sensei," Tsutsui began haltingly. He couldn't be rude, after all. "Fujisaki has no idea what she's talking about."

Shimura blinked at him owlishly. It took a moment to connect the dots, realization slowly dawning on the man's face. "Ah… Is this about the first year that's been causing trouble in your club, Tsutsui-kun?"

"He's not causing trouble. He's just…" Rude, volatile, unyielding, brilliant. "...intense."

Shimura tapped his pen rhythmically on his desk with a thoughtful hum. "From what Fujisaki described, he's been aggravating the other members and even provoking some of the other boys."

Tsutsui couldn't exactly deny that. Just last Friday, Shindou had insinuated some rather horrible things about Takeuchi's tastes in carnal pleasures (something about how obviously the second year was gagging for an older lady to "lead him into the adult world") but Tsutsui had been too busy trying to see at what point Shindou had irrevocably turned their game to his favor. And he didn't laugh at Takeuchi's scandalized expression. Not at all.

"Only because they keep upsetting him," Tsutsui defended. "He'd ignore them if they would just keep quiet and let him play in peace."

Shimura had raised an eyebrow at him, "But he's not even a member of the club, is he?"

"Well, no," Tsutsui answered weakly. Shindou rejected his invitations and Tsutsui thought he knew why. He was hardly going to explain that to anyone else, however.

"Then the comfort of your club members should come first, Tsutsui-kun," Shimura chided. "I can't believe I have to tell you this. To prioritize Shindou over your own friends… He's hardly proper material for your club anyway, isn't he?"

Tsutsui's fists clenched at his sides in concealed irritation. "Shindou plays very well. Better than the others and he's beating me now-"

"But does he understand how to play in a team?' Shimura pointed out, unimpressed. "According to his homeroom teacher, he ditches class often and doesn't get along well with his classmates."

Like Tsutsui was going to be impressed by Shindou's homeroom teacher. Clearly the man was defunct at his job if he couldn't even see Shindou for what the boy really was. Truly these people were nothing but a disappointment and it was no more obvious than in this moment: between the club members who would rather shove away someone than improve themselves, to the teachers so quick to lay blame on the child and blind themselves to the cause.

It should have been obvious. Shindou didn't have eyes for the girls the way most of his schoolmates did, as if they were nothing more than background he had to pass through. The boys were treated in much the same way - but not the adults. Shindou watched the male teachers with the kind of look prey affix on a predator, careful with the way he carried himself around them. He treated Tsutsui in much the same way; walking back home together, he drew closer as if to initiate skin contact, his words more teasing, his gestures more affectionate. As of late, he drew back more often than not, a flicker of consternation crossing his features as if he were frustrated with his own actions.

"As club president, you have a duty to your fellow club members to ensure their development," Shimura pressed on.

It must be easy to lecture others when you don't know anything, Tsutsui thought emptily. Clearly Shimura was going to go with the image of Shindou he had been fed by others.

"Shindou has already been notified to stay away from the Go club," Shimura added. "You should have been the one to bring up his interference rather than Fujisaki. But-"

"I have to go now. Please excuse me," Tsutsui cut off abruptly. He barely remembered to bow before he pivoted and rushed out, ignoring Shimura's sputtering at his rudeness. He had more urgent matters now, plans running through his mind as practically slammed the staff room's door closed behind him.

It was just his luck that he managed to avoid a direct collision with Fujisaki. Some part of him wondered if the girl had intended to collide with him on purpose, because there was no adequate reason for her to be coming from that direction at that speed.

"Tsutsui-senpai!" Fujisaki breathed in audible relief. "You talked to Shimura-sensei?"

To attempt to talk him out of your damned intervention, but that was a lost cause, Tsutsui thought unkindly. He managed out a strangled assent as he tried to step around her but she easily blocked his way. One hand had latched onto his sleeve, her eyes defiant and lips turned down at the corners.

"Where are you going? Hoshizuki-senpai wants to play a game with you," she stated.

Tsutsui stared down at her, "Do you know your eyes open wide when you're lying?"

Fujisaki scowled, "Shindou already left. And you have a club to run."

Tsutsui stilled. That's right - he did officially run that club, after all. Even if the other members hardly listened to him and he was left, more often than not, recreating games he'd played against strangers rather than those against fellow members. Even if he'd learned and grown more playing against Shindou than he had against the entirety of the club for the past two years. Even if every part of him was screaming at him to run out and look for someone who actually needed him - as a stepping stone at worst, a friend at best - while the obedient part of his nature told him to do as his teacher instructed and schoolmate persuaded and let Shindou go.

There must have been something about Shindou, then - because Tsutsui could not let him go.

"I quit."

Fujisaki stared at him, uncomprehending. Then, "You what?"

"I quit. The Go club, I mean," Tsutsui added hastily, pulling his arm from the girl's lax grip.

"Y-You can't quit!" Fujisaki spluttered, baffled. "You started it!"

"And yet here I am, quitting," Tsutsui stressed. "I'll turn in the official documents tomorrow. Tell… Osakada? Yes, she'll do. Tell Osakada she's the captain now."

"You can't quit!" Fujisaki reiterated, refusing to process this.

"You'll still have enough members to enter the tournaments, although you'll need to work hard to get more members next year," Tsutsui said brightly. A great weight had been lifted off his shoulder. Who knew the Go club had been weighing down his spirit this much?

"Senpai, you can't quit for Shindou!" Fujisaki cried. "Are you having a breakdown? It's because of the upcoming entrance exams, isn't it?"

Tsutsui grabbed the girl by the shoulders, looking straight into her eyes. His slightly manic smile had gentled into something kind and genuine as he looked at her. Fujisaki meant well, she really did - it was just sometimes her idea of kindness differed from his own.

"One day, Fujisaki-san," Tsutsui told her softly. "You will have to choose between what is best for the world and what is best for you. And I hope you tell the world to go screw itself."

Fujisaki's mouth dropped open in blank shock.

Tsutsui turned with a small chuckle, running down the hallway. One of the passing teachers yelled at him about running in the corridor but right now, Tsutsui had more important matters to tend to than bowing to an adult's rules.

He had never pulled on his shoes so fast, nearly forgetting to grab his things in his haste to leave. The other club members had eyed him in wide-eyed surprise as he left, shoes thudding against pavement as he fled schoolgrounds. It had only been just over an hour since school ended and Tsutsui had memorized the route. Taking in the time the lecture would have lasted for Shindou, he should only have about a 30 to 45 minute headstart. If the boy felt especially sullen about his sudden rejection, he would have loitered around the lockers listlessly as he came to terms with it. He would walk slowly, mindful of his steps and appearance, not wanting to appear upset by the turn of events.

Tsutsui was running. He ran until his lungs burned, until his feet ached, and then he kept running. There were times a person had to prove himself to be something worthy, even if that struggle was only internal - and for Tsutsui, this was one of those moments.

I am not blind- I am not cruel- I am not a coward-

Shindou's hair stood out in a crowd. It was a marker of obvious difference and it made him easier to recall. The first time Tsutsui had seen him was in the first week of school, as the younger boy deftly dodged classmates and teachers alike as he idled around campus. He'd made an impression on Tsutsui then, because Shindou moved about with the confidence of someone who understood his place in the world and, in the school environment, saw his peers as something unnecessary. Tsutsui wasn't exactly a shrinking violet but he was hardly as sociable as most. He knew the value of getting along with his peers and didn't really stick out in any sense, so to see a boy younger than him and just as lonely view their mutual problem of isolation with absolute indifference was startling.

As the year wound on, Tsutsui had picked up the rumor about a first year boy with blond bangs. A delinquent by all ignorant accounts, as accusing eyes and whispers focused on Shindou's long list of absences and the appearance of bruises that cropped up every now and then as damning evidence against him. A delinquent that no one had seen fight, a punk that never provoked classmates or teachers unless it was warranted; who were the real villains in this?

Tsutsui thought he'd have a heart attack when he'd spotted Shindou looking at the Go club poster that first time. The boy's face had been serious as he contemplated it, unseeing of anyone else as he evaluated the tsumego. It had to be one of the single most startling things Tsutsui had ever seen.

He'd lied, then. And he'd lied very well. There had never been someone defacing the Go club posters, not once since the club's start. Cruel insinuations coupled with false accusations, never giving Shindou enough leeway in conversation to defend himself. Tsutsui had played at the part of self-righteous prat and had been impressed at his own ability to carry it out, even if the hurt look in Shindou's eyes had almost made him crack. But the first year had an attitude that required not a cool head to interact with, but a fire to light the kindling.

Beneath Tsutsui's dismissive words had been the invite to prove him wrong. Shindou needed that prod to push him forward because under Tsutsui's discerning eyes, the boy had been stumbling around uncertainly for the past month. What Shindou had seen as a coincidental meeting was actually a planned push Tsutsui had been waiting to give since the start of the school year. No one had known that: not the Go club, not Fujisaki, and certainly not Shindou. Just as no one knew of what Shindou had become entangled in.

Shindou stood out in a crowd. It was the reason Tsutsui had caught sight of him on the crowded streets of Shinjuku in late May, approaching a man at least three times his age with a quiet proposition that Tsutsui was not naive enough to misunderstand.

Tsutsui had an older sister, once upon a time. Their differences were staggering; an age gap of 15 years and different biological fathers. Even though her own father had walked out on their then 18-year-old mother, even though Tsutsui's father never considered her as his daughter - she had been a sweet older sister to him. She would take care of him when their parents left town on business, would offer to help with his school assignments, and had even taught him Go in her spare time.

She was gentle and always smiled, but she had to have been one of the saddest people Tsutsui had ever known. She became involved with a man she should not have and was pulled into the "service industry" without care. Tsutsui would see her come home in the early morning hours sometimes, too tired and embittered to make her presence known. She would hide herself in her room and curl up on her bed, bruised and worn. She cried intermittently in her loneliness but Tsutsui would only hear it when he crouched outside her locked door, too scared of the ghost he knew he'd find in place of his sister if he dared to enter.

On his birthday, she gave him a book of basic joseki. It was wrapped in pale blue paper with a purple-and-silver twine bow, his name written in small, messy kanji on the card. She placed it atop his desk before he woke up, put on her favorite dress (the one his mother bought for her on her birthday two years previous), and quietly hanged herself in her bedroom.

The problem with people, Tsutsui had thought, was that even though horrible things happened before their eyes they still felt too powerless to stop it. Never mind that they had never tried in any capacity to either help or hinder, certain that as long as they kept their eyes in front of them (but unseeing, so painfully blind), they would not be impacted. Tsutsui could have pretended not to be affected, could have kept going on quietly with his life; his parents were a normal middle-class pair and he was raised under their slightly oppressive but loving hands. His grades guaranteed him a stable career in the future, he had made friends he could talk to in school despite his own reservations, and his generally unassuming air never ruffled feathers.

But his parents were cowards, his teachers were fools, and his classmates were temporary. The only person Tsutsui had to definitively live with for the rest of his life was himself. His older sister had taught him how to play Go, what it really meant to be helpless, and the price of turning away without a second glance.

Eight blocks of suburban streets separated Haze Junior High School from the nearest train station. Tsutsui had walked with Shindou enough the past two weeks to see that the boy made no further stops, nothing on these streets capable of pulling in his interest. In the sulking state of rejection Tsutsui was sure he'd find him in, he would continue on unimpeded to the station. The senior's feet thundered against the ground as he haphazardly dashed past other pedestrians - schoolmates and strangers alike - in his haste.

The air in his lungs was burning. Tsutsui was not an athlete by any stretch but he felt that if he paused to regain stamina now, not only would he lose Shindou, he would lose all of his energy and collapse. It was adrenaline that pushed him ever onward and the moment he relinquished his grasp on 'emergency', his body would give out.

On the block just before the train station, Tsutsui caught sight of him: slumped shoulders, lethargic stride, blond fringe shadowing his eyes. He walked with the gait of someone ready to lunge and Tsutsui understood why passers-by veered around the small boy cautiously. Tsutsui had seen Shindou's viciousness only once, when he'd tested his patience and had a pen stabbed into the paper behind him under unrepentant green eyes. Shindou was petty and cruel (as exemplified by his interactions with the Go club at large) , with little regard for others outside of using them for his own means. He was also so sensitive that the slightest hint of distaste would get him to clam up and he offered second (and third, and fourth…) chances if someone's first impression proved unfavorable. Shindou wasn't honest, of that Tsutsui was certain - but he was kind in a way that was almost pitiful.

"Shindou!"

Tsutsui grabbed hold of the boy's wrist, tugging him back with more strength than he thought he had left. Shindou was yanked around, eyes wide and taken-aback; Tsutsui let go of his wrist with a panting apology, bent over from the physical exertion and trying to regain his bearings.

"T-Tsutsui-senpai?" Shindou murmured weakly, deep in the throes of shock at the unexpected sight. His green eyes showed no signs that he'd been crying but Tsutsui hadn't expected him to. It would take more than a teacher with ignorant ideas about his person to move Shindou to tears.

"I...heard...from Fujisaki," Tsutsui managed out breathlessly. He took in a few more gulping breaths to return to some dignified poise, positive Shindou wouldn't take off. "Shimura-sensei is an idiot. You should ignore him."

Shindou's expression contorted interestingly, as if he didn't know whether to be shocked at how crude the bespectacled boy was or just be amused that someone had given voice to his own turbulent thoughts. After a moment, he managed out in a cool, indifferent tone, "Even so, I'm now banned from the Go club."

Something petulant in his eyes alerted Tsutsui to the unsaid thought of 'Not that I wanted to join.' A brief flash of irritation at the silent dismissal - that had been his club that he'd started, after all - soon gave way to exasperated affection. With all the tattered remnants of his pride, Shindou had tried to accept this unprovoked exclusion as rationally as he could. The first year had to know of his own reputation (Shimura had better have minced words or blood would be spilled) and saw no point in further kindling the blaze against him. To test a teacher's power would only get him either suspended or expelled, and Shindou had been mature enough to just bite back his cutting remarks in favor of the less obtrusive option. As distasteful and unfair as the decision was, Shindou had lived his life going undetected by authority figures. He would not change his tune so quickly.

But he was changing, because if he had been the same person who had first entered Haze, he would not have bothered with the Go club, let alone persist in going even after the other members became hostile. There would be no reason to test their limits despite his own fascination for the game, which meant something had to have changed at some point in between. Tsutsui wondered what that was but didn't pry; he had to monitor his own influence on the boy, after all.

"Yes, because they're idiots too," Tsutsui dismissed casually. Shindou stilled but that went unregarded by the older boy; Tsutsui merely moved a step ahead of him, smile on his lips as motioned for the younger boy to follow him. "Let's go find a Go parlor. I want to play a game."

"But- the club?" Shindou ogled, clearly knocked off-balance by this statement. All of the pieces were there but the blond-banged boy had yet to connect them - but that was no issue. Tsutsui was nothing if not patient. Tacticians had to be in order to see their plans come to fruition.

"I'm sure Osakada will do a fine job leading the club," Tsutsui returned dryly. Hopefully Fujisaki would regain enough wit to realize she was practically on her own recruiting future members because the current ones were otherwise useless. He was sure she'd gain some spectacular character development from her unwitting ascension to being the only responsible one in the club, so Tsutsui wasn't feeling particularly regretful over it.

"But…"

Tsutsui chuckled, turning around. "I have some extra money because I've been saving up my allowance. The kid's fee at parlors is usually only ¥500 so I can cover it for both of us."

Hesitant steps followed his own as he continued down the sidewalk. Tsutsui did not bother to hide his smile.

Onee-san, can you see me?


Sai's heart was thudding very painfully in his chest at this point, so much so that he wondered if this was what cardiac arrest felt like. His palms were sweaty from where he held onto the plain black briefcase, nausea welling in his gut as the bus came to gentle stop. He stood on surprisingly sturdy legs, exiting the vehicle behind a short line of others and joining the roving masses along the sidewalk.

'One step in front of the other' became his inner mantra. He had to remind himself of the power he held and force that assertion into his posture - he could not come off as weak, especially now. He'd pulled on his best-cut suit; a dreary black attire with a white undershirt, a silver-and-dark blue striped tie finishing it off. His hair was tied back in a tidy ponytail, normally errant strands pulled back and kept in place by a light addition of hairspray. Occasionally strangers' eyes would catch on him and Sai hoped it was because of his impressive bearing and not because he looked ridiculous.

As the only child of an influential businessman, Sai had learned how one's appearance could be manipulated to help their cause. He used all of his forced lessons on proper business etiquette to pull together this ensemble and ran every possible dialogue through his mind as he crested the steps to a down-trodden apartment. It wasn't the one-story shacks Sai had first feared, but he didn't know whether to be angered or relieved that Hikaru's mother was well-off enough to afford an apartment in a high-rise. That it was possible for her to afford Hikaru his things but she intentionally chose not to…

Sai seized onto his righteous anger, controlled it to straighten his back and square his shoulders. His gazed hardened to flints of amethyst, unforgiving and uncompromising as he stared down at the door to apartment 5545, one hand poised to knock. He'd messaged Hikaru earlier that he had business to deal with and wouldn't be home until late, as it was already almost 7 pm. He'd managed to coerce Ogata into being present at his apartment to cook dinner for Hikaru (the ninth-dan had been curiously easy to persuade) and had notified Hikaru beforehand of the bespectacled man's presence, so he was sure the boy would return to Sai's place if only to acquiesce to Sai's subtle prod at being a respectful host.

Now, with Hikaru safe and securely out of the way, Sai moved forward. It had been easy to follow Shindou (nee Matsuda) Mitsuko's schedule; only a few well-placed calls here and there, and Sai had her schedule and her address pushed into his hands. There had been something ominous in the way the documents had been just as readily available but Sai had somewhat expected it; to use one aspect entailed the entire scheme be known to his 'helper'. Nothing for it now, though, and it only helped in this case.

He knocked three times, the sound seemingly echoing down an otherwise silent hall. It wasn't hard enough to be considered threatening but it definitely held an edge that hinted at authority. She seemed to have suspected this, as when she drew open the door it was with a wary expression and at a hesitant length.

She wasn't as...worn, as Sai had expected. She was hardly the healthiest individual Sai had seen and the odor around hinted at drug use; he could see it in the yellowing of her fingers and the corners of her mouth. She wasn't as frightfully thin as the models paraded about in anti-drug circles, and while her eyes held a jaded edge, it was nothing compared to the way Hikaru's eyes scoured every person he met.

Sai didn't show any disgust on his face as he coolly asked, "Shindou Mitsuko-san?"

She'd kept her married name, despite the divorce documents. Sai wondered if hanging on to her past made it so that she was blind to the present.

"Yes?" she croaked out. She looked uncertain but that was likely because Sai looked far too impressive to be bothering with her.

"Greetings," Sai continued on formally. "I am Fujiwara Sai. I've come to discuss a matter with you concerning Shindou Hikaru. May I come inside?"

She did not budge but the door opened a little wider. "What has he done?" she asked snappishly, surly with feigned understanding of the situation. The tone suggested she had expected her son to commit some sort of crime soon but her words hinted that he had never done so before.

Her view is skewed and ignorant, Sai filed inwardly. A narrow mind is easily manipulated.

"He has not done anything," Sai answered, tone crisp as winter's breath. "I need to discuss your custody over him. Please allow me inside if you would not like your personal affairs aired out to your neighbors."

There was a hint of threat to his voice that she finally registered, as she opened the door and allowed him entry. He brushed past her without a second glance, curious eyes idling over the interior of what Hikaru had supposedly been raised in.

It was small, the entryway separated from the greater interior by a tiny kitchen. Past it lay the one-room that comprised of both bedroom and living room, a door to the side to section off the bathroom. The one window was open to allow in the light, illuminating the dreary inside; a futon was rolled up into the corner messily, a drab red pillow stacked atop it. A small couch was set in front of the lone TV, the cables stretched from behind it and across the flooring to connect to the outlet. There was no dining table, the only flat surface being a small side-table that had a mix of brown, brittle substances littering the top. The room smelled heavily of smoke, unpleasant despite the open window and light breeze.

As he passed through the kitchen, he noted nothing atop the counters; neither herbs nor even cookingware, although there was a small rice cooker pushed into the decrepit backdrop. It wasn't on and looked cold with disuse.

Sai knew of the small pockets where the forgotten were stashed, but they were abstract concepts; not people he knew and interacted with, not people he loved. But this was where Hikaru had grown, worn down to brittle bone and disillusioned eyes, with only this scarecrow of the woman who had borne him. It was no wonder the child had opted for any escape, no matter how dirty it may be.

"Who are you? You aren't the cops," she asked, moving over to the side table and swiping the remnants of whatever was there off and away.

Sai cared little over her ministrations, "I am not. I want to discuss with you alternate means regarding your custody over your son."

Acid filled his mouth as he said the last two words. It was clear, at least to the Meijin, that Hikaru was son only to this woman in blood; there was no love in those shuttered eyes, dwindled or extinguished in favor the substances she'd preferred to inhale or swallow. She peered at him uncomprehendingly, a far cry from the sharp mind of her offspring.

"Tell me, Shindou-san," Sai began quietly. "Where is Hikaru?"

Mitsuko shifted in disinterest, "At school, I expect."

"School ended hours ago," Sai corrected.

"Then out with his friends. I don't know, I don't tail the boy."

That 'boy' is your son, Sai snapped internally. He kept his face perfectly bland, however, moving further in and propping his briefcase atop a wall-indented shelf. He opened it, shuffling through the documents quietly for several moments. Pulling out what he needed, he turned back to address the expectant woman.

"I've gotten to know Hikaru very well over the course of several months, Shindou-san," Sai began efficiently, the picture of a businessman not open to negotiations. His posture was rigid, his eyes hard and clearly unimpressed with what he found before him. "And it's come to my attention that this environment is not conducive to Hikaru's well-being, in a variety of aspects. Which is why you will hand custody of Hikaru over to me."

Her mouth dropped open in shock, entire body freezing as she stared at him agog. Sai waited patiently for her thought process to start up again, flipping through the custody forms in the meantime. The briefcase was not just for show, although it did help to make him look more professional. The amount of forms needed to transfer Hikaru's legal custody to Sai was nearly staggering; thankfully, he'd completed his side of the paperwork under his lawyer's critical eyes and gone over Shindou Mitsuko's to be certain of what it would entail.

He needed her to give up all custody rights of her son. Sai had already gotten physical custody of Hikaru, given that he spent more time over at Sai's place than at this apartment. It was the legal custody Sai was concerned with. He not only had to have Shindou Mitsuko sign away every parental right she had over Hikaru, he also had to have Hikaru's name stricken from both the Shindou and Matsuda records. The divorce between the boy's parents had made the paperwork even messier; his mother's insistence on keeping her former husband's name had extended into a quagmire over the Shindou family registration line, as Hikaru was kept listed as Shindou Masao's son but was under the sole custody of his mother.

But his lawyer had argued this could work in their favor. With the divorce papers stagnating everything, the only thing certain had been Shindou Masao's lack of custodial rights. This had left Mitsuko the one with sole custody, narrowing down Sai's concern to the woman. He needed to work with what he knew of her, and what he saw had no concern for her child. The paperwork was messy but given the rather dubious means Sai was using to push his custody battle through, it only helped to shadow the strings he'd pulled to get it.

"You want Hikaru?" Mitsuko finally managed out.

Sai nodded once, decisively, "Yes."

"Why? Who are you?' she demanded.

Sai stared her down coldly. She flinched back as the gaze she mistook for clinical became arctic, every line of this strange man's body turning refined and predatory. She hadn't know what to expect when she'd answered the door, especially at the sight of such a beautiful face. There was an aristocratic air in the way he carried himself but the look in those eyes as he scanned her had been downright insulting, seeing her as some sort of insect that he'd much rather squash then deal with.

"What does that matter to you?" he asked softly.

Mitsuko's shoulders straightened, a narrow glare morphing her eyes. "I'm his mother-"

"In blood and nothing else. You and I both know that, Shindou-san - let's not play games," Sai interrupted. "What do you know about Hikaru? What does he do after school? What are his hobbies? Do you even know who his friends are?"

Mitsuko scowled, "Boys his age are difficult and I'm all by myself, you know! I can't devote every minute to him!"

But you should want to! Sai raged. "Then this should solve your problem. Grant me full custody of Hikaru and you can...do whatever you want."

She styled herself a victim. Her husband had not wanted her, she'd been left alone with her son, she'd been thrown into this hellhole - in some ways, she was a victim of the system. But that gave her no right to drag Hikaru down with her. Someone so concerned for only themselves did not make an adequate parent. Even if she had loved Hikaru, it would not have been enough - it just would have been a less painful descent.

Mitsuko thought this over. While Hikaru was the last connection she had to Masao, he was also a bitter reminder of the failure of her life. He contributed nothing and only added expenses (never mind that she couldn't recall the last time she'd paid for anything of his). It wasn't like Masao ever called her to inquire about his son; he'd cast off Hikaru just as surely as he'd cast off their wedding band.

Still, to see such a rich businessman interested in the burden she couldn't shake was startling. She wondered what Hikaru had done to impress the man, especially into adopting him - god knows Fujiwara looked too young to be a proper father figure, but that didn't seem to matter to him. From the specially-tailored suit down to the expensive wristwatch adorning his wrist, Mitsuko knew the brat had caught a big fish.

"Giving up my only child to you will cause me a large amount of distress, you know," Mitsuko began. "I'm not sure I could do it without some way or means of comforting myself from the loss."

It took a moment for the underlying meaning to make sense, but only a moment; the realization forced some kind of emotion to flash across the man's face. A heavy amount of distaste filtered into his eyes but Mitsuko didn't care about it - she was fine being the object of some stranger's dislike. What did this man mean to her outside of being a possible source of income?

It had to be difficult for him - instead of going to the authorities or a legal third party, he had went directly to her. That must mean she had some kind of power and she would use that perceived strength against him. She could make this process as drawn-out and painful as she wanted because when it came down to the courts, her stance as the blood parent of the child in question meant more than any perceived harm that child had suffered from her care. She didn't really care how much Hikaru would hurt if the man decided to seek a court battle against her but clearly the man did, and that made him weak.

He had moved forward, a scant few steps away. His body remained lax, hands kept at his sides and unclenched - but something in his aura suggested that he was close to reaching out and strangling the breath from her throat. His eyes were colder than her own, matched by a fury kept at bay with a lips twisted down into a vague frown and a form that postured itself like a coiled spring. Mitsuko felt that even her next breath would snap the careful control the man had over himself and he would lunge at her.

Money. That's what Shindou Mitsuko wanted from him. She was positioning herself to sell Hikaru, and the very idea of trading Hikaru in for money was too similar to the abuse the boy was suffering now that Sai had instantly become furious. To have this woman treat her child as if he were some type of commodity to give away…

He reined himself in. Cool heads would win this battle, he reminded himself. Righteous fury wouldn't get him what he needed. He thought about it - paying her would be the easiest method. What did she know of his finances, anyway? He could swallow down his own pride and sense of justice as long as it meant Hikaru would be safely in his custody.

The key was Hikaru actually being securely in Sai's custody. Mitsuko might not know his financial power now but if she ever came to learn of it, what was to stop her from crying out that she had been cheated and demand more? On that matter, what would stop her from indefinitely asking for money over and over again? No, money would not solve this problem in this sense - merely worsen it further down the road and pave the way for her to gain more power over him. If she kept that perception of strength, she would continue to approach the both of them, coming and going like a parasite they couldn't cure.

Which left the question of just how far Sai was willing to go for Hikaru. This was as true a test of his potential as a parental figure as any profiling agency could conjure. How much of himself was Sai willing to sacrifice just for Hikaru's greater well-being? Ogata had been right to question if Sai was ready for that level of commitment because there could be no shortcuts or easy ways to raise a child.

It was not as if Sai did not love Hikaru. He loved the boy, loved him more than the breath in his lungs and the blood in his veins. But who did he love - the bright boy who had been haunted by a Heian-era ghost, or the jaded youth with the wry smile and the faintest glimmer of warmth buried deep? Which 'Hikaru' was Sai trying to save? The memory of a dream or the embittered reality?

There were nights when Sai missed the energy and joy that so easily eclipsed the face of the boy in his dreams. But then there were the mornings where he'd wake to find Hikaru curled up atop his bed, features relaxed from the stresses of the day as he slept peacefully on, and Sai thought he'd like to make sure Hikaru could have that kind of expression while awake, too.

It was Hikaru. Sai wanted to save him, ensconce him somewhere warm and safe and watch him grow into the strong individual Sai knew he could be. He knew this not because of a dream, but because he could see what kind of person Hikaru was. A bitter youth that many had given up on - but did Hikaru lash out? Did he strike at both the innocent and guilty? Hikaru had not crumbled to dust, had not followed obediently but rather pulled at the noose tightening around his throat until the strands had become torn. Whether or not Hikaru was like the one in his dreams or the one in reality, he was Hikaru through and through - and Sai would do whatever he must so long as it meant Hikaru would be better off.

Hikaru would be better off with him and with absolutely no connection to this woman.

"Then seek your comfort in either the bottle or in the drugs you seem so fond of," Sai answered finally, voice even - almost airy. Mitsuko's face twisted, likely wondering if she needed to make her demands more clear, but Sai continued before she could open her mouth. "You will sign these documents, Shindou-san, and then you will have nothing more to do with Hikaru. You will not speak to him, you will not seek him out, you will not even look in his direction. You will continue living as you have been and spare us no more thoughts because he will not spare any for you - I will make sure of that.

"And you will do so, because if you don't," Sai moved forward slowly, sedately, but whatever the woman saw in his eyes caused her to back up in fear. Her legs hit the back of the couch and she fell back onto it with shaking knees, her eyes wide. "I will reduce you to nothing more than a fleeting memory. It will not matter where you hide yourself or who you associate with, I will make sure that there is nothing of you left that can hurt him."

Sai had learned quite well from his father.

"Whatever power you think you have, you are mistaken," Sai continued on calmly. "Whatever hold you have over your son is no more. He has already discovered he can live a life without you, as you seemed so keen on teaching him. And now with me, he can live an infinitely better one."

Mitsuko stood shakily. Sai was not impressed, even as she began to speak up, "I-I can call the cops on you! Get a restraining order-"

"I wonder if you'll even get that far," Sai mused aloud. "These are dangerous times, Shindou-san. And exactly how much of this have you had today?" He had swiped his hand on the armrest of the couch, the brittle remnants of whatever drug she had been smoking dislodging from the fibers and scattering about the floor.

Mitsuko's hackles were raised as an ugly sneer twisted her lips, "I am his mother! I gave birth to him-"

"And you're so high right now that it wouldn't be unusual for you to trip down the stairs and break your neck."

Mitsuko's mouth snapped closed. Sai didn't glance at her, having pulled out a handkerchief to wipe the off the remnants of the drug still lingering on his fingers. The action gave him time to think about his next few words. The threat had been a fib, of course - Sai didn't think he'd ever have it in him to kill another human being no matter how despicable they were. But it's not like she ever needed to know that and as long as she believed her life to be in danger and kept quiet, then Sai need not bother to carry out any retribution.

"Who are you?" she asked again, quieter, more fearful.

Weak men made threats just the same, but Mitsuko knew power when she saw it. She had been under the thumb of powerful men before; one of her boyfriends had been a brutish man, and what he lacked in luck and money he made up for in muscle and violence. He'd beaten her bloody more times in their short relationship than any of the others.

This Fujiwara Sai didn't look nearly as physically strong, even if he was taller than her. But there was certainty in his posture, a calm and even tone in his voice as he casually threatened her life. She had heard stories here and there of the elite; rich, powerful men that flexed their strength to get whatever they wanted through any means necessary. Heard the stories of the people they had crushed who had gotten in their way. And weren't all levels of government corrupt in some sense? Fujiwara had the marker of one of those powerful men, and most dangerously - he knew how to use it.

Hikaru isn't worth the trouble, Mitsuko had to remind herself. If all this man wanted was the child then why should she resist? Better to be free of the burden of raising a child than be torn to bits because some rich snob had decided he wanted Hikaru more.

"I- Will I need a lawyer?" Mitsuko asked in a small voice.

Sai hadn't dropped the tension in his shoulders, even as he pulled out a pen. "I have taken care of everything else. You need only sign these papers."


Hikaru had messaged Ogata as soon as he had gotten out of school, walking in stride with Tsutsui as they left campus together, to inform the man he wouldn't be home until about eight in the evening. He was going to take the opportunity of Sai not being present to take care of an errand he had been putting off, as the Meijin would just ask annoyingly intrusive questions otherwise.

"I have to visit a friend today," Hikaru said, turning to give Tsutsui a regretful smile. There was an unobtrusive distance between them that Tsutsui didn't look inclined to breaching, which made the walks with the older boy far more pleasant. Hikaru had been biting back the inclinations cultivated from work to cross that distance and get closer, which he had been rather successful about for the past week. In the times he wasn't, though, Tsutsui merely ignored his mannerisms and continued with whatever topic he had been chattering about. Hikaru didn't know someone could be that oblivious, but then again, the bespectacled boy did give off the appearance of someone completely naive.

Tsutsui nodded in understanding, "Let's play a game online later then, okay?"

"Sure," Hikaru shrugged. "Your username was 'EternalMakoto', right?"

Tsutsui nodded, something strange flashing through his eyes. Hikaru let it go; when he'd first chuckled over the older boy's username, a wry smile had twisted Tsutsui's lips and he gave no explanation for it. Hikaru would rather not offend his friend if the subject was somehow too painful for him to bring up himself.

They split ways at the train station, as per usual; Hikaru had to stop first at Sai's apartment to change attire. It wouldn't do to show up at the Gate in his school uniform, after all, even if the move was superfluous. (Why kid himself? If Masaki knew where he lived, he definitely knew where he went to school.) Only simple attire this time around, as he wasn't there on business. He settled for dark blue pants, heavy black boots, and a charcoal-gray sweater covered in foggy stars. He pulled on a white, knee-length jacket with shining silver buttons - newly-washed and smelling faintly of Sai's detergent. He shoved the stack of CDs into a small satchel, along with his wallet.

The Gate was only mildly-populated when Hikaru finally reached it. There were a couple new faces he saw as he went up the stairs to reach the main room, but they were older than himself and he didn't care enough to greet them. He took off his jacket as he ascended, throwing it onto the rack set up to the side of the room where such belongings were temporarily held. It kept the garments in noticeable view of the room's occupants so that stealing was discouraged while also keeping them out of the way.

The room itself was as noisy as ever, although it was hardly crowded; a trio of high school-aged girls had taken over one plush couch and were talking at length about their latest clients as they did their nails. Mimi had commandeered her own couch and was chatting pleasantly with the long-haired Hibiki, whose graceful appearance belied a bitchy, petty personality. Shanhai looked like he was trying to take a nap, curled up in the dilapidated armchair he so favored. Seated on the couch next to him was Chikara, who had perked up at Hikaru's appearance and given the blond-banged boy a wide smile. Aian was next to him, deep in a one-sided argument with the younger boy lying listlessly on the floor before them.

Mussed, russet-colored hair and bored dark brown eyes - Rizumu was awake. His head lolled to the side as Hikaru drew near so that the blond-banged boy could see he had one earphone positioned into his right ear, connected to a worn-looking CD player. His expression was an inexpressive deadpan colored with the fog of a lack of sleep, and his entire right arm was wrapped in the tight fit of bandages. He looked tired and sickly, as he always had since August.

"Itsuka, welcome home~!" Mimi crooned out from the opposite side of the room.

Hikaru turned around to snap something at her, but by then a pale hand had snaked around his wrist and yanked him forward. He tumbled gracelessly, two sets of hands manhandling him until he was squeezed into the spot between both Chikara and Aian. It had been so long since someone had touched him so carelessly that Hikaru froze and allowed it, nearly kicking Rizumu in the hip as he fell.

"Finally bothered to show up, kid?" Aian jeered good-naturedly. "Masaki'll be pleased."

Hikaru looked around with a small frown, rearranging himself into a more comfortable position. "Where is he, anyway? I didn't see his blond ass in the lobby."

"Mm, out on business," Chikara answered, leaning his head against Hikaru's shoulder. Chikara was a pretty, older teen; closer to Masaki in age and subordinate only to their blond boss and the whimsical Shinya. His skin was pale, his dark hair permed into loose curls that fell around his shoulders attractively. He'd taken a liking to Hikaru upon their first meeting and hooked on to him whenever they showed up at the Gate at the same time. "Mimi said she hasn't seen him all afternoon."

"Hunting."

Hikaru turned his eyes to the boy still slouched on the floor. Rizumu had wriggled onto his left side, curled up as if to shield his midsection from attack. There was a slight shiver to his whole body but he didn't seem concerned by it, dull eyes reserved for criticizing his bandaged arm in contempt.

"He's hunting with Yuuma," Rizumu clarified. "I heard that bitch talking about the mark. Masaki seemed really pissy about it."

"How interesting," Chikara chuckled. "I guess someone tried to run."

Yuuma, better known as the 'Dog' for his occupation: hunting down those Masaki set him on. If someone tried to leave the Gate without formal consent, Masaki would go after them. He would either unleash Yuuma to drag them back or would follow the other teen on the trail to corner them, depending primarily on his mood. Regardless, both options resulted in a punishment that the prey didn't always survive.

Hikaru sighed in relief. As long as Masaki wasn't here, that meant he didn't have to hear a lecture over Amekura again. The teen texted him far too much about the man, so much so that Hikaru had begun texting his last customer a small blurb each day to keep him happy. He was thinking of skipping his Saturday class again to go see him for this week, so this way he could spend almost every night and all of Sunday over at Sai's place. Not to mention, with Tsutsui tailing him after school now, it was just easier to meet with Amekura in one quick tryst a week and message him daily to keep him content.

Aian offered him another cigarette but Hikaru merely passed it on to Chikara, preferring to dig through his bag. He dropped the stack of CDs next to Rizumu with a pointed look and no explanation. For his part, the russet-haired boy pawed through them and checked each out critically. After a few minutes, he settled on Fuji Keiko's "Shinjuku no Onna" CD and popped it into his player.

"You aren't going to ask?" Hikaru inquired after a moment, turning careful eyes on the reclined Chikara. The older boy took a generous drag of his cigarette, seemingly savoring the flavor as he exhaled the smoke. It curled up in arcs and evaporated into the dark air of the ceiling. Hibiki opened the closest window with a pointed huff, stomping away to complain loudly to the manicure-applying trio.

"About you being shelved, you mean?" Chikara asked, holding up the cigarette to Hikaru's lips. He took a reluctant drag himself at Chikara's insistence, the older boy drawing the burning stick away to tap the ash lightly onto the sidetable. It was already covered in scratches and burn marks, so what could a few more hurt? He took the next smoke, a smile curling his lips as he took it suggestively slow.

"Indirect kiss," he giggled at Hikaru's look.

The blond-banged boy stared at him, deadpan, but Aian snorted and muttered something derogatory around his own joint. He let out a yelp when Rizumu abruptly kicked his shin, leaping up to better defend himself.

Rizumu drew himself up impressively fast, sidling quickly around the looming form of Aian and slipping into his now-vacated seat without a backwards glance. The former redhead stared at the empty space on the floor vacantly, momentarily stunned, as Rizumu shoved the other earphone into Hikaru's ear. Chikara laughed raucously, nearly dropping his cigarette in his mirth.

"I'm going to fuckin' strangle you, you fucking-"

"Outsmarted by the unwilling addict! Oh, I can tell you're going to be a great carrier already, you oaf!" Chikara cackled gleefully. Aian whirled on the curly-haired teen, scowling and already beginning to rant with a mix of death threats and insults. It was hard to tell if Chikara even heard him through his chortles.

The smoke from Chikara's last exhale lingered in the air and stung at Hikaru's eyes and nostrils but the younger boy didn't complain. Hikaru kept still, wary of moving and causing Rizumu's right arm any pain or discomfort. The other boy was leaned against his side, as intimate as Chikara, although his right arm was propped wrist-up in his lap so that they could both watch the blood seep through his bandages.

"For a butterfly who lives in a town of neon lights

Those words were too sweet to resist

What a fool What a fool I am

To be tricked like that

This night is too chilly

I'm a woman of Shinjuku…"


Sai shuffled through the forms. His lawyer had highlighted whatever required Shindou Mitsuko's signature in neon green, and each part was now marked with her writing. The only thing left after these forms were mailed in was updating his own family registry, which would be just as troublesome; not because it was difficult or particularly tedious, just because it put him in the direct path of talking to his father.

His self-imposed alienation from his family had begun young but had no legal roots. He was bound, however distantly, to the Fujiwara name - and this meant he had a direct effect on the family registry. By adopting Hikaru, the boy's name would have to be added to the Fujiwara line, which would definitely set off every alarm bell possible. Sai had yet to be contacted by any of his family members recently, although there had definitely been some upper-level string-pulling when he'd been working on getting the adoption papers. His lawyer had gotten ahold of all the relevant paperwork within a week when it should have taken several; there had been no homestudy, just a certification of one and that Sai had passed; there would be no series of meetings, no haggling over the custody dispute, and - as his lawyer assured - no appearances at court as long as Mitsuko signed the papers.

"You'll find that the law is not as inclined to insuring the safety of children from their families," his lawyer had disputed. "So this route is really the best way if you want the boy. If it can be resolved outside of the courts, then why not?"

At least Sai didn't have to go with his lawyer's first suggestion - forging Mitsuko's signature and essentially just swiping Hikaru away from under her nose. Not that he hadn't thought about it…

After he'd locked to documents safely away in the briefcase, not wanting to risk her ruining them in some way, he pulled out the folded duffel bag he had stuffed inside and also picked up what looked like one of Hikaru's old school bags. He began to pack away anything of value that looked to belong to the boy. Mitsuko had waved him in the direction of the closet, curled up on the couch and watching him with distrustful eyes. Some of Hikaru's clothes were folded and stood in short piles on the floor, which Sai scooped up and threw into the duffel. All of the child's accessories were placed gingerly into the briefcase, and the Gameboy and its associated games went into the schoolbag. There wasn't as much as Sai had expected, but then again, Hikaru stored quite a few of his things in Sai's apartment now.

"My lawyer will contact you some time within the week to finalize everything. You will not need to make any court appearances and I will deal with the family registry," Sai said, slinging the duffel over his shoulder and grabbing hold of his briefcase. "You will not see Hikaru again, Shindou-san, and he will never see you."

He gave her a long, level look; hopefully this would be the last time he ever saw her, too. The words he had kept at bay were caught in his throat. There were so many things he wanted to say to her: to yell at her for what she'd allowed to happen to Hikaru, to shake her and demand she make up for it in some way, to hit her until she hurt as much as Hikaru did. Even now, with the forms guaranteeing Hikaru's safety in his grasp, he still wanted to tear her to pieces and set her aflame, watch her crumble to ash so that the scars she had left on her son would heal.

But those scars wouldn't heal because those kinds of injuries lasted a lifetime, and Shindou Mitsuko was now nothing more than ineffectual blight of an existence. Sai could and would ignore her, give her no further thought as he left through her doorway, because he had what he needed. She would never be able to take it away or touch it again.

I don't need to crush you, Sai thought unfavorably as he turned and headed out the door. The world is doing a fine enough job of that without me.

The apartment door slammed shut behind him, locking with an audible click, but Sai didn't care. He checked the time on his watch: a quarter past eight. He was making better time than he thought, and the idea of going home to decent food and Hikaru made his steps lighter and faster. He would have to address the issue of the under-the-table adoption with Hikaru sooner rather than later. He had decided to just get the legal matter out of the way without telling Hikaru until after it was done. He didn't want to add stress should it become drawn-out for any reason.

He was worried about how well Hikaru would take it, though. Just buying him furniture had caused the boy a nervous breakdown - and now adoption? Sai would have to make sure to be ready for anything when he did tell Hikaru. He had half a mind to force Ogata to stand outside his apartment door, in case Hikaru snapped and tried to flee. He'd rather not involve Ogata too deeply into his and Hikaru's personal matters, even if the man had been offering up his services as of late.

Perhaps I will tell Hikaru on Sunday, when I'm sure all of the paperwork has been settled, Sai mused.

"Fujiwara Sai-san?"

Sai paused, turning to blink at the teen who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. He had just barely reached the landing of the apartment complex's stairs, but in the alleyway that joined the entrance to the streets there was only one exit; the teen had to have been waiting in the shadows under the staircase to be behind him, because Sai had heard no one else as he descended.

The teen wasn't alone, either; two other teens flanked him on both sides. They both were a head taller than the blond boy, lithe with muscle that they had hidden underneath baggy clothes and jackets. The blond teen that had spoken looked vaguely-familiar but Sai couldn't place why. The way he eyed Sai's briefcase with a vague look of surprise was alarming, especially since the other two teens were eyeing Sai like they couldn't wait to eat him.

"We've never met," the blond greeted cheerfully. His eyes were distinctly unkind, distorting whatever image the blond sought to present. "And I curiously heard nothing about you from Itsuka. But that's okay, because we're going to get acquainted really well soon~!"

Now Sai remembered. Late at night on the streets of Shinjuku, he'd found Hikaru - who had been with another boy. A boy that had pointed out a possible client and then melted back into the crowds. One that knew of 'Itsuka' and helped him along.

One of the boys flipped open a switchblade with a leer.

"Itsuka is mine," the blond continued. His cheerful tone had been dropped, his eyes dead and lips unsmiling. He was lax, lurched forward, and in the shadows of the alleyway he looked as close to a demon a person could get. A tight knot of fear coiled itself in Sai's gut, his feet unmoving even as his mind screamed at him to run.

"If you want him, you come to me - not to that cunt who thinks she owns him," the blond sneered. "And those pretty little pieces of paper mean nothing to me. Whether you want to play keeper or just fuck him, you bargain with me."

The coil of fear uncurled just enough to supplement the anger. Sai's eyes narrowed, understanding dawning in darkening violet eyes. "So 'Itsuka' is your fault?"

The blond's features twisted into something too horrible to be considered a grin, "No, it was just either 'Itsuka' or 'dead', and he chose 'Itsuka'."

The teen paused, evaluating Sai slowly. The Meijin couldn't tell what the teen was seeing; god knows he looked like a well-off businessman in this outfit and he was certainly tall enough to come across as imposing. However, he wasn't the one holding a weapon or had a definitive history of violence. This small group of teens looked like they'd lived on the wilder side of life their entire upbringing and had no qualms about getting their hands dirty.

"Itsuka's not a victim, you know. He's a product." It was a quiet admission. Sai was surprised the volatile teen could sound so gentle, but in a way, it was as if the blond wasn't even addressing him; his eyes had taken on a far-away look as he spoke. "The world's smug way of reminding people that no matter how civilized we become, we're still utterly barbaric."

The blond drew back to himself, manic smile once again on his lips. "But that's that! Anyway, let's get started on that date, Fujiwara-san!"

The second teen had produced his own switchblade, and now all three were advancing on him. Sai made to turn and flee to the best of his abilities - how had they found him in the first place? - when the three teens froze in their steps, smiles falling off their faces as they hunched together in a feral display of threat.

Sai knew why a moment later, as four men moved past him from both sides and obscured him from the teens' view. They were tall men, built with muscle and dressed in impressive suits that marked them levels above their younger counterparts. Hair was trimmed short as to not get in the way, in contrast to the dyed, spiky style so favored by adolescents. These men looked professional, intimidating, and most importantly - experienced.

A hand settled comfortably on Sai's arm as the leader drew even with him. The Meijin had already known who it would be without looking, though, especially as the smell of smoke permeated the otherwise fresh air.

"Little kids shouldn't be sticking their runny noses into adult business," Kawai Tetsuya called out teasingly, the barest hint of a threat lacing his words and turning them acidic. "Shall we teach you brats some manners?"

Saved by a devil. Sai didn't know whether to cry in relief or laugh at the very madness.


A/N: Kawai~! You're finally here! -maniacal laugh-

Note 1) Family Registration System: Known as 'koseki', the FRS is basically just an official family tree. In cases of marriage, the person marrying in (usually the wife) takes on the surname and is added to the spouse's tree. In divorce, the one being divorced may keep the surname (as Mitsuko has done) but their name in the FRS is X-ed out. As the child, Hikaru keeps his father's name even if he is under his mother's sole custody. If Mitsuko had wanted, she could have moved Hikaru into her family tree instead, but she hadn't bothered.

Note 2) Tsutsui Kimihiro: In canon, he's a fan of Go, an excellent tactician, dedicated to his Go club, and one of the few who doesn't piss in fear when confronted by Kaga. In this story, he's a fan of Go, an excellent tactician, dedicated to the memory of his late sister, and is desperate to prove to himself that he is capable of helping someone. For example, he started the Go club in memory of his sister, the one who taught him the game. But when he ran into someone who reminded him of her (Hikaru) and saw that he could help, at least a little bit, Tsutsui dropped the club to pursue that position instead. As for his NetGo username (EternalMakoto), it's a tribute to his late sister.

Note 3) Fujisaki Akari: I am not even close to being done with her...

Note 4) the Fujiwara family: Daddy is terrifying.

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